Second Chance Magic

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Second Chance Magic Page 12

by Michelle M. Pillow


  “Are you seeing a demon now?” he asked.

  “I see…” Lorna tried to look for Heather and William. “I can’t move my head. I want to get up.”

  “That’s because we’re keeping you stabilized,” the paramedic explained. “We want to make sure you didn’t hurt your spine. Now I want you to try squeezing my fingers.”

  “I have to go,” Lorna insisted. “You can’t keep me if I don’t want to be kept.”

  “What’s she saying?” Heather asked. “I can’t understand her. Why are her words slurred like that?”

  “It looks like you banged your head pretty hard, Lorna,” the paramedic said, though by the loud tone of his voice it sounded like he was talking to everyone and not just her. “Try to relax. We’re going to take you in and have it looked at by a doctor.”

  The first thought that popped into Lorna’s mind was a protest. Emergency room visits were expensive, as were ambulance rides. She couldn’t afford that. Plus, she had to warn Heather that Glenn, or a demon, or something malevolent, was in the theater.

  “I can take myself,” Lorna said, becoming agitated. “Please let me go.”

  “We can’t let you do that,” the paramedic answered. Lorna finally was able to focus on his name.

  “Perry, please, I can’t afford…” Lorna tried to protest.

  “Shh,” Heather scolded. “Don’t say any more. We’ll figure all that out later. Everything is going to be all right.”

  Lorna remembered yelling at Glenn and feeling a blast of cold flinging her across the room. “I think I fell.”

  “You did,” Heather agreed. “You have a nasty bump on the back of your head.”

  “You concentrate on doing what the doctors tell you,” William added.

  The paramedics rolled her to the side and slipped a board underneath her before laying her flat once more.

  “Do you want us to call anyone for you?” William asked.

  Lorna shook her head as she was lifted onto a gurney for transport.

  “Your kids?” Heather offered.

  “No. Don’t. The twins have classes and Nicholas… No. I don’t want to worry them.” Lorna stopped protesting about going to the hospital. Being moved jolted her body and caused waves of pain to roll through her. A tear rolled down her temple. Her head throbbed like sharp stabs through her skull. She moaned in protest, trying to lift her hand to her head only to realize she was tied down.

  “William, go with her so she’s not alone,” Heather said. “Lorna, I’m going to finish with the police and then pack a change of clothes for you. Vivien and I will meet you at the hospital. You won’t be alone, not even for a second.”

  As they rolled her outside, Lorna realized she was still in her pajamas but didn’t care at the moment. She couldn’t see them, but she heard people on the sidewalk and knew she was being watched.

  “You can follow us,” Perry told William.

  “You don’t have to.” Lorna tried to reach toward William but her arm was pinned.

  He took her hand, squeezing lightly. “I’ll be right behind you, Lorna. Like Heather said, you won’t be left alone. We’ll be here to help.”

  His hand slipped from hers as the paramedics lifted her into the back of their ambulance.

  “…unwitnessed fall…”

  “…lives alone…”

  “No raccoon eyes or Battle’s sign noted upon assessment,” a woman stated.

  Lorna opened her eyes to find she was surrounded by curtains and the steady beeping of a monitor. What happened to the ambulance?

  “It wasn’t a raccoon,” Lorna tried to explain. A nurse leaned over her and she felt someone holding her hand. “I was attacked by my husband.”

  “Your husband did this to you?” The nurse had kind eyes. “Do you know where your husband is now?”

  “Dead,” Lorna murmured, closing her eyes. The throbbing in her head was unbearable.

  “Was there another body at the scene?” someone asked, sounding like they stood in another room.

  “No. She was alone at the theater downtown,” another voice answered. “The EMT reported she claimed she was attacked by invisible demons and became agitated on the ride over.”

  “Lorna, have you taken anything?” someone asked. “It’s okay if you have, but we need to know.”

  Lorna groaned. The pain quickly went from unbearable to excruciating.

  “Get that blood over to the lab,” a man ordered. “We’ll know if she’s on something soon enough.”

  “He’s a ghost,” Lorna tried to explain, unable to reopen her eyes. “We should never have brought him back from the grave.”

  “X-ray is clear. Let’s get her up to CT.”

  Lorna felt her body moving.

  “Please, ask Heather. She’ll know about the demon,” Lorna insisted. “She’ll know.”

  She’ll know…

  She felt someone brushing back her hair.

  “Lorna, I’m sorry if Heather scared you with the family ghost stories.” William’s voice sounded garbled in the darkness.

  Beings tethered to this plane, full of rage…

  “…swelling doesn’t go down with elevation, rest, and medication, we’ll have to discuss surgical options…”

  “…needs to stay for observation…”

  Come back from the grave…

  “Maybe downtown is being haunted by a demon.” Someone gave a small laugh. “Geraldine McKinney came in last week claiming her knee just suddenly bruised as she was walking down a sidewalk on Main Street. It looked like someone—hey, hand me that IV bag, would you?—like someone had hit it with a hammer or something but she swears she didn’t bump into anything. Then Paul Ambrosio came in for stitches on his hand. He told the charge nurse it just opened up, like someone took an invisible knife to it.”

  Lorna tried to speak, but a woman shushed her and urged her to rest. Since concentrating was difficult, she took the woman’s advice.

  We open the door between two worlds…

  “I have to tell you, you’ve looked better.” Vivien’s worried tone belied her teasing words. Lorna wasn’t sure if it was a dream or not. “But don’t you worry. You’ll be out of here soon enough.”

  “Can you open your eyes for me?”

  Lorna obeyed the gentle request. The room sounded quieter than before and people no longer moved around her. Instead of curtains, walls surrounded her. She was alone with the nurse who had kind eyes. “I know you.”

  The nurse smiled. “You’re sounding much better. How are you feeling?”

  “Confused.” Lorna looked around. Everything kept changing. Whenever she opened her eyes a different person was there. “Where am I?”

  “You’re at Freewild Cove Hospital. My name is Martha. Do you remember what happened?”

  “You have kind eyes, Martha.” Lorna shook her head and closed her eyes. “I’m exhausted. Can we talk about this later?”

  We call you to face all you fear. We call you to your eternal hell. Pay the price with this final knell.

  Chapter Eleven

  Come back from the grave and tell me why.

  Lorna gave a small gasp as she came from the darkness of dreams. It took her a moment to realize she was in a hospital bed. The lights were off and the room dim. She wasn’t sure if the dull ache in her head was from her injury or the flood of medicine the hospital had been administering.

  She expected a nurse to be in front of her, as there had been one asking her questions and testing her mental state almost every time she’d opened her eyes.

  Lorna wasn’t sure how long she’d been in the hospital, as pieces came to her in fragments. The doctors were worried about swelling and bleeding in her brain and had her under observation. At first, they weren’t giving her anything to help with her headaches until they ruled out certain things, and then they were giving her medication because those things had been ruled out. Someone had mentioned drilling a small hole into her skull and…

  Lorna inhaled sharply
, instantly reaching to feel around her head for bandages. A weight slipped from her grasp and she turned to see William sitting next to her bed. His head laid on his arm and his hand rested on the covers near where hers had been. Heather slept in a chair, her arms crossed over her chest and her head tilted at what had to be an uncomfortable angle. Vivien had faced a couple of chairs toward each other and was curled up on the small makeshift bed.

  Lorna bit her lip as a rush of emotion filled her. Everyone from her old life had stopped checking on her—except for her children. Yet these three who had only known her for a short time were sleeping in her hospital room in positions that would leave a contortionist sore.

  She reached for William who was closest and lightly tapped his hand. His head stirred and she briefly drew her fingers over his hair. He blinked as he looked in her direction, and then over his shoulder at Vivien and his sister.

  “You’re awake,” he whispered, lifting in his chair to move closer to where the bed elevated her head. His eyes searched hers.

  “You didn’t have to stay,” she said, keeping her voice low. “You should wake Vivien and Heather and take them home.”

  “How are you feeling?” He ignored her request. “You sound much better.”

  “I’m having a little trouble piecing together what happened.” Lorna brushed her hair away from her cheek. IV tubing caught on the blankets and tugged where it was taped to her hand. She automatically adjusted the line.

  “Heather and I found you on the lobby floor. We were coming in early to check the stage to make sure it was still sturdy. The way you were sprawled out on the floor made it look as if you’d been attacked. The doctor said you had bruises on your chest as if someone had pushed you but we couldn’t find evidence of a break in and the doors were locked, though that means very little with those front push handles.” He kept his voice low. “I have a new security system being put in tomorrow. The current cameras are too outdated. Heather told the police that they didn’t even catch what happened to you. Did someone hide in the theater until after closing? Did you let someone in? What were you doing downstairs? Do you know how you fell?”

  Lorna thought of the cold force striking her and flinging her back. She pressed her hand to her chest. Her bruised skin felt tender. “Something spooked me.”

  “Do you know what it was? Who?”

  Lorna took a deep breath.

  “Please don’t tell me you still think it was a demon. You told the EMT and the nurses that when they brought you in.”

  “Did I?” Lorna vaguely recalled rambling something along those lines, but it was all a blur.

  “They said confusion is normal with head injuries.” He reached to take her hand in his. The warmth of his palm spread over her fingers. She remembered what she’d been doing when the intruding entity had interrupted her. The directness of his gaze appeared so earnest, so concerned.

  “I’m not sure what it was.” That was about as much truth as she could tell him. “Did they say how long I have to stay here?”

  “That depends on how your neuro checks go, but they said possibly tomorrow. The doctor said you’re fortunate. With the signs you were showing when you first arrived, they thought you were going to need surgery. Had we not found you when we did… If a few more hours had passed…” He squeezed her hand. “I believe the word miracle was bandied around a few times.”

  “Bandied?” She gave a small laugh. “Good word.”

  His lip curled up at the side in the adorable way she liked. “I’m trying to impress you. It is Thursday night after all. I’m trying not to take it personally that you went to all this trouble to avoid going to a restaurant with me.”

  Thursday? Their date night?

  “What happened to Wednesday?” She rubbed her temple.

  “You slept through it. This is your second night here,” he answered.

  “I have to confess,” Lorna whispered, glancing around, “as far as dates go, this one isn’t making the top ten list.” She lifted her arm to show where the IV was taped to her hand. “The wine selection is bland and you brought two chaperones.”

  William’s smile widened. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I can do better. You even wore a new gown.”

  Lorna gave a surprised snort of laughter as she glanced down to the hospital gown she wore. The floral print was faded. She wasn’t the first patient to wear it.

  Vivien stirred at the sound. She yawned as her eyes met Lorna’s. Instantly, she pushed up from her chair bed and reached to give Heather a small shake. “She’s up.”

  “Hmm?” Heather mumbled as she slowly blinked open her eyes. Her gaze found Lorna’s and she pushed out of her chair. “You’re awake.”

  The movement must have jarred a sore back because Heather gave a small groan and clutched her side. She lifted her arms over her head slowly, stretching her muscles.

  “You didn’t have to stay,” Lorna said, “but I’m grateful you’re here.”

  “Like we’d leave you alone after what happened,” Vivien said from the foot of her bed.

  “Lorna, I’m so sorry.” Heather came around the side to stand opposite of her brother beside Lorna. “I would never have let you stay in the apartment alone if I thought something was there with you.”

  “Heather, don’t,” William scolded. “It wasn’t a demon. Encouragement like that isn’t helpful.”

  “Show them,” Vivien said.

  Lorna leaned forward to sit up straighter. “Show us what?”

  Heather glanced around and then pointed toward the chair where she’d been sleeping. “Hand me my phone.”

  Vivien followed her direction, picked the phone off the floor, and handed it over.

  Heather tapped the screen a few times before turning the phone to face Lorna and William. The clip was footage of the lobby. It showed Lorna running toward the front doors before stopping and slowly making her way back inside. The screen blipped with interference but came back in time to show Lorna shouting.

  “I thought you said the security tapes didn’t record,” William said.

  “Shh, just watch,” Vivien instructed.

  Lorna watched the small screen as her body lifted from the floor and flew backward seemingly for no reason. She flinched, remembering the coldness that had hit her. For those few seconds, it had crept into her body and felt like death. She landed on her back, bounced once, and then slid a few inches.

  “Who was it?” William tried to snatch the phone from his sister. “I didn’t see…”

  “Keep watching,” Heather moved it out of his reach and continued to hold it for them.

  It appeared as if she were alone in the lobby. Lorna watched as her waist rocked to the side only to fall back into place like she’d been nudged with someone’s foot. It happened a few times before suddenly her arm flung over her head. It jerked back and forth as if being violently shaken. The motion rocked her body before she was suddenly dragged a few feet. Her arm dropped.

  “That’s it. You stay like that until we show up in the morning,” Heather said. “I couldn’t show the police or the doctors what happened. They’d think we were crazy. They’d put us all on a psych hold.”

  William grabbed the phone from his sister and replayed the video. “That’s impossible.”

  Lorna ignored him. She stretched her shoulder. Now that she thought about it, her muscles were a little tight. She looked at her wrist where someone would have held her to jerk her around like that. The skin was intact and there were no signs that she’d been touched.

  “You said some pretty wild things to the nurses,” Vivien said. “They can be excused from the thump you took to the back of the head, but maybe tell them you were watching a scary movie about demons—”

  “She doesn’t have a television,” Heather inserted.

  “Fine, reading a book about scary demons. Tell them you confused what you were reading with what you were trying to say,” Vivien said. “Tell them you know ghosts aren’t real.”

  “Th
ey’re not,” William muttered to himself, as he kept replaying the video, pausing it and zooming in.

  “You keep telling yourself that, Willy,” Vivien drawled.

  “She’s right. They’re not going to release you if you don’t lie,” Heather added.

  The door to the room cracked opened before someone softly knocked a few times. A nurse poked her head into the room. “Oh, I see everyone is already awake and waiting for me. Time for your four-hourly neurological assessment.”

  Heather stepped out of the nurse’s way. “She sounds much better. No more slurring.”

  The nurse nodded in Heather’s direction. “Good.”

  William stood and backed away from the bed but kept hold of his sister’s phone.

  “And no demons.” Lorna gave a pained laugh. “They’ve been telling me I was a little out of it earlier. That’s what I get for reading scary books before bedtime.”

  “One of the day shift nurses thought you might be onto something. Apparently, we’ve been getting weird accidents coming in from downtown.” The nurse sat on the edge of the bed by Lorna and held up her hand. “Any blurred vision, dizziness, nausea, pain?”

  Lorna shook her head in denial. “Little bit of a dull ache like when I oversleep.”

  “How many fingers?”

  “Three,” Lorna answered.

  “Follow my fingers with your eyes.” The woman moved her hand back and forth, up and down.

  “What do you mean by weird?” Vivien prompted.

  “First a banged-up knee but without anything banging into it. Then a cut on the hand, but supposedly nothing cutting it.” The nurse patted Lorna’s hand. “And according to your charts, you were pushed but no one was there to do the pushing. Is that what happened? I want you to know you’re safe. If you were attacked, you need to tell us.”

  “No, I wasn’t attacked,” Lorna said.

  “Have you lost consciousness before this?” the nurse asked.

  “Only once.” Lorna met the nurse’s gaze. “At my husband’s funeral three years ago. The doctors said it was anxiety induced from the stress. They checked my heart and said it was good.” She forced a nervous, dismissive laugh. “This was a stupid accident. I startled myself and then tripped. It’s more embarrassing than anything.”

 

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