Chapter 36: Premonition
It’s been less than two days since the fire at my house; how could so much have happened in such a short space of time? After Ri-ri had the hyperbaric treatment, she looked a little less pale and was breathing better, but still remained unconscious. Of course, Mama is freaking out totally, and the rest of us are right behind her. Even Pop had a few tears seeing his baby in the hospital bed surrounded by tubes and machines.
Still, we all needed to go home and rest a bit; Dr. Hannigan assured us that my little sister was stable and doing as well as could be expected. The nurse in the Pediatric Intensive Care place said the same thing, and that we would be more help to Ri-ri when she did wake up if we were rested. It was hard to convince Mama, but it does make sense.
We dropped Emelia at her house first. Of course, she had called her aunt earlier to let her know what was going on. She’s lucky to have someone like her Aunt Penny to live with. I worry about Em and that girl Mariah, who seems to have some buried secrets of her own. Anyway, Em wanted to come back to the hospital with me this morning, and I’m glad she’s here for support. I know she’s still worried about Mariah, and I understand. But I’m so grateful that my friend is compassionate enough to put her own troubles aside for me and my family.
* * * *
Now we are waiting to see how Ri-ri’s doing after a quiet night in the PICU. Mama and Pop are here, of course—Roger stayed back in Shively with a friend’s family. Pop said there was no need for all of us to come, and Roger is still pretty weirded out by the whole fire incident and his part in it. Emelia is reading and I am flipping through an ancient copy of Good Housekeeping when Dr. Hannigan comes out the swinging doors of the ward.
“Hello, Calvano family. How are you holding up?” I think she still doesn’t realize that Em isn’t part of the family. “Would one of you like to go back and see Patrice? Remember, she’s still not responsive, but that could change any minute. Her most recent tests look a bit better…”
I take this chance to speak to the doctor, who must have lots of other patients on her mind, too. “Dr. Hannigan, should we try to talk to her? I mean, is that helpful or not?”
Dr. Hannigan smiles at me and says, “That’s fine, young lady. Hillary, right?” I nod. “She can benefit from the stimulation of talking and gentle touching. There’s no physical reason that she won’t regain consciousness now—it’s just a matter of time and…”
Mama breaks in here, “And the will of God?”
Dr. H. looks a bit uncomfortable, but kind. “You never know, Mrs. Calvano. I’ve been doing this job for twenty-three years, and I’ve seen many situations that I would call miracles. Even though the Chief of Staff would probably object to my saying so.” And she smiles at Mama and Pop.
Pop adds, “Thank you, Doctor. We appreciate all you’re doing for our girl. I’ll go back first, if that’s okay.”
Dr. Hannigan leads Pop to the swinging door and follows him inside for just a moment. Then she reappears and heads toward the elevator, waving at us as she goes.
Now we sit and do what we’ve been doing since this all started: wait. After a while Pop comes back to the waiting room. Mama gives him a hopeful, questioning look, but he shakes his head no. Mama and I go together, leaving Em with Pop in the waiting room.
Ri-ri lies motionless in the child-sized hospital bed, with tubes in her tiny nose providing oxygen. Seeing her like this, I feel like I’m the one who can’t breathe. And I feel guilty for not seeing what Roger needed when he knocked on my door earlier on that night. Emelia, Dax, and I were so absorbed with the Mariah issue that I totally ignored my brother when he needed my help. It makes me resent Mariah’s intrusion into our normal lives even more! If I had gone to his room and checked out the electrical set-up, maybe my little sister wouldn’t have gotten hurt…
Mom puts her hand on my shoulder and I look at her. Maybe she could somehow feel that I was giving myself a hard time for not being there that night. She gives my shoulder a squeeze and attempts a weak smile, motioning for us to sit in the two plastic chairs by Ri-ri’s bed. I want to talk to Ri-ri—Dr. Hannigan said we could—but I can’t think of anything to say that doesn’t sound really lame. So I settle for scooting my chair up closer and taking her hand, which is cold and dry. I say a prayer to Diana to watch over my little sister and send her healing energy. There’s nothing else I can think of to do.
After about forty-five minutes, one of the PICU nurses comes in and says, “Mrs. Calvano, that’s probably enough for right now—maybe you’d like to go get some lunch? The physical therapist will be here shortly to work with Patrice.”
“Physical therapist?” Mama asks. “What…I don’t understand.”
The nurse smiles gently and says, “It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just that Patrice isn’t moving on her own, so we need to make sure her muscles get exercise.” Mama seems to accept this answer, and we head back out to the waiting room. We go to the cafeteria and get food. Emelia isn’t eating much, and I know she must be upset about Mariah and what happened earlier the night of the fire.
“Em, you okay?” I ask quietly.
She nods in answer, and shrugs one shoulder. I guess she’ll talk when she’s ready. I’m glad to have her here with me at the hospital, and I don’t want to bug her.
By the time we get back to the PICU, the physical therapist is finished and gone. Em says she wants to go see Ri-ri just for a bit if it’s okay with Pop and Mama. Of course, they tell her it’s fine, and Em disappears through the swinging doors. She probably feels a little bit responsible, too, since she was kind of the reason we were too busy to help Roger with his game. Plus, I was out picking her up from Jeffersontown when the fire broke out.
After about twenty minutes in with Ri-ri, Emelia comes out, looking pale and shaken. This could be just from the tension of the situation, but I know Emelia, and I think there’s more to it. Honestly, she looks like she’s seen a ghost or something. She immediately pulls me out to the outdoor patio, and I realize something besides visiting my sister has happened to her.
“Oh my God, Hillary! I think I just had a vision or something—I saw Mariah as clearly as if she were standing right there in the room!”
“What?!”
“I mean it. I’m sitting there next to Ri-ri’s bed, talking quietly to her, and I get this creepy feeling that someone else is there. I turn around, thinking maybe your mom is behind me, but there’s no one actually in the room.”
“Oh, Emelia—what the hell? Are you okay?”
“Well, no—I mean…what I saw was kind of a vision—Mariah at a counter, buying a ticket.”
“And?”
“I don’t know…I have this weird feeling that she’s trying to get away from me…but that she needs my help. I’m so confused…”
I put my hand on her shoulder. Emelia moves closer and I hug her to me. We both have some major stuff to deal with right now. I wish she didn’t have this pull toward Mariah, but I want to support her no matter what.
“I know what I saw, and it’s not just my imagination, Hill.”
I don’t even try to discourage Em from what she thinks she saw. “Okay…any feeling about where she’s going?”
“No—but if I try to focus and think logically, I think she’s in Louisville—downtown—maybe at the bus station? That would make sense. I don’t think she has much money, ya know? And I can’t imagine she knows how to negotiate modern travel stuff…”
“Can you call her or something?” I ask, hoping that I can keep Emelia from chasing after this girl who I know means nothing but trouble, no matter how interesting she might be. Plus, selfishly, I want Em to stay in Shively with me.
“Oh, Hillary—I’m scared, but I really feel like I need to help her. Just talking to her on the phone isn’t enough. If we’re right that she’s…from another time…she won’t know how to get out of all kinds of dodgy situations on the road. She needs someone…”
I see in Em’s eyes that the
re’s really nothing I can do to change her mind. The only thing I can do is try to stay in contact and be there if she needs me.
“Okay, Em—whatever you need to do, but call me when you can, okay? I just want to know you’re safe…”
Emelia hugs me with tears in her eyes. “Thank you for everything, Hillary. Don’t worry about me, okay? Just help your family and pray to Diana for Ri-ri’s recovery. And thank your parents for me—for treating me like one of their own.”
Oh my God! This sounds like a permanent good-bye. Emelia is leaving to be with Mariah…I can’t think of anything helpful to say in this crazy situation. A huge ominous silence hangs over the air of the hospital patio.
Emelia hugs me quickly, as if she needs to get going and focus on her mission. I follow her back into the PICU waiting room, where she gets her purse and tells my parents that she needs to take a bus home to Shively to help Penny with the chores and do some school work. Of course, this sounds totally reasonable to Mama and Pop, who hug her and thank her for her support.
As Em heads out the door to the hallway, I’m the only one who knows where she’s going, and how much trouble she may be getting into.
Chapter 37: Downtown Louisville
The rest of the journey to the Louisville bus station is occupied in weary thoughts. I still keep thinking about Emelia, wishing I had a way to talk to her about the terrifying experience with the trucker.
After walking a great deal, I finally take a chance on another ride, thankful that the dead driver’s blood did not stain my clothing. Two young girls in an old, patched-together sports car stop for me about four miles from downtown; I sit quietly in the back with my few possessions and they seem to hardly notice me, chatting away and laughing, singing along with the radio music.
They let me out on a street oddly named for some Arabic man: Muhammed Ali Boulevard. There’s an old park here, in disrepair but apparently still in use. A few groups of people are scattered about as I step out of the car. Aware of the uncertainty of the remainder of my journey west, I decide I should find a small animal or two to feed on, even though I still feel satisfied by the nourishment I took from the dead truck driver. In this strange place, it is not too difficult to find and kill two small squirrels. After that, I’m ready to search for the bus station.
In spite of the fact that the main purpose of my trip is to get away from Emelia, I find myself thinking about her as I walk down this noisy city street. Maybe, if we were together, we could help each other in this unknown journey. I realize I know very little about her, but feelings must count for something.
As it is, I feel more lost and alone than I have for centuries, along with the sadness and frustration I feel at having found possible love and deciding to reject it. As I head down this strange city street looking for this unfamiliar building called Greyhound, I remind myself that I’m doing the right thing by letting Emelia go.
The station proves easy to find, as the blue letters reading Greyhound are large and accompanied by the image of a running dog. I assume this dog is a greyhound, but I’m not sure what it has to do with riding on a bus. Still, I have found the station, and I have money in my pocket. I take a deep breath and push open the glass double doors.
Inside, everything seems to have a written sign on it, so I have no trouble finding a line of people in front of Tickets/Information. I almost laugh thinking how much I need not only a ticket, but probably more information than this clerk can provide! I don’t really know where I’m going, but I have a vague idea to head for California. I have exactly $223 of “modern” money and several gold coins from my time in Boston almost two hundred years ago. I have a feeling they might be more valuable in this time than a single dollar, but I don’t really know for sure. Standing in line, I determine to spend up to $150 of the new money for this ticket and save the rest.
“Next,” says the clerk, a dark-skinned woman with an elaborate hair style colored gold and red. I purposely push the sound of Tituba’s voice, which spooked me so badly back in Jeffersontown, from my brain. It will not do to feel fear each time I talk to a dark-skinned person. And I need her help.
“Hello, ma’am,” I say as I step up to the counter. She gives me a bored look but says nothing. “I need one ticket please. To California?”
Again the bored look, this time with a bit of annoyance added in.
“Where?”
“California. Please.”
“Where in California?”
I have no idea what to say. I just have this vague idea from stories about San Francisco I heard in Boston. Earlier, back in Salem, not even the scholars knew about any place called California.
“San Francisco?”
At this, the young woman looks relieved to have specific information and works quickly on the keyboard in front of her. At least this aspect of the twenty-first century is quite familiar, thanks to Mr. Perry and Emelia.
“There’s one leaving at 6:15 P.M. today. One stop in Denver. No transfers.”
I take in this information. “How much does the ticket cost?” I hold my breath for the answer; I don’t exactly have a Plan B.
“Two nineteen plus tax. Two thirty-two fourteen.”
“Dollars?” I ask.
Now she definitely looks annoyed, rolling her dark eyes and pursing her lips.
“Look, do you want this ticket or not, girl?”
I think quickly. I’m fearful of using too much of my meager cash just for one bus ticket. There’s no real reason I have to go to San Francisco, but I’m not eager to further anger this clerk.
“I’m sorry, but that’s too much money for me. Could I get part of the way there, maybe?”
“Okay,” she says with a sigh, “let me see what I can find.” Again she works on the keyboard.
“How about Oklahoma City? Almost half way. One hundred twenty bucks total.”
I know that means dollars. I can do this without using all my cash or any of my gold dollars.
“Fine. Yes. Thank you.”
She pats her stacked-high hair as she punches a few buttons on a different machine. A paper ticket comes out with a swooshing noise and she hands it to me; I quickly hand over the required cash. I have no idea where Oklahoma City is, but I hope that “almost half way” to California is far enough. Clutching my precious bus ticket, I turn to leave the counter.
And that’s when I see her. Just like that first time at the high school, as I watched her from my hiding place. A tall, slender girl with amazing soft hair and pale delicate skin.
Emelia.
Chapter 38: More of the Story
I feel so guilty leaving Hill’s family at the hospital, but I have to give Mariah a chance. I have to find her and let her know that there’s no need to run away just because of me. I will leave her alone if that’s what she wants or needs.
I really have no idea where I’m going; thankfully I have about thirty-eight dollars in cash and the emergency credit card Aunt Penny gave me, which has a hundred dollars on it. Mariah must have some money with her; she’s much too clever to set out for—where?—without any resources.
As I sit on the jouncing bus from the hospital to the downtown station, I think about the decision I’m making just by going downtown without telling Aunt Penny, or anyone but Hillary, what I’m doing. Penny would freak out with fear, not to mention the reaction my mom would have! I don’t have a plan beyond finding Mariah, but the thought of never seeing her again is unbearable—that feeling is what’s driving me on. I need to focus on finding her right now, or I will lose control thinking about the whole vampire/witch trial thing. This girl I’m falling in love with is most likely not only a supernatural creature, but an historical figure born before America was even a country! As I think this, my stomach twists in an uncomfortable knot.
My ringtone sounds from the depths of my bag. It’s Hillary.
“Em? I’m so relieved to get you. What’s happening?”
“Hey. Nothing yet. The bus is just about to get to the
downtown terminal.”
“What if she’s not there?”
I sigh in frustration. “Oh, Hill—I have no idea. I guess I could try the train station…”
“God, Emelia—you can’t just keep searching all over Louisville for this girl…vampire…person.”
Another sigh. “I know that, Hill. Just wait and see, okay? I’ll call you later. And try not to worry.” I feel guilty, but I push the key to end the call there. I can’t handle her anxiety on top of my own.
The bus pulls up to the side of the terminal and almost all the passengers get off, including me. Obviously the front entrance, around the corner of the building, is where I need to start my search. If I knew of any other girl doing what I’m now doing, I would call her crazy in a heartbeat. But I swallow my fear and move ahead.
I push open the double doors and look around, not really expecting much. There’s a sizable crowd at this time of day. A full bus must have just arrived, because the cavernous station is full of milling travelers. I hunt for Mariah’s short brown hair in the crowd.
Miraculously, I spot her. She’s not part of the moving mass of people, but is apparently buying a ticket. I feel dizzy, like I might faint or something. I sit in the first row by the door, hoping she doesn’t see me for another few moments. I tell myself to focus on breathing—just breathe. I watch her, thankful that I have a moment to collect my thoughts. Finally, she leaves the ticket counter. She has her ragged duffel bag over one shoulder and a printed bus ticket in her hand.
Soon, I am able to gather my courage. Spurred by affection, I rise and walk across the terminal to her. Mariah is still standing near the ticket counter gazing around at the crowd. The instant she sees me, I know from the way she reacts that this crazy search of mine is not a waste of time. Mariah’s face lights up, and I feel my own cheeks flush pink with heat. I want to rush to her and throw my arms around her, but I don’t want to scare her away again. So I walk as calmly as possible and meet her where she stands.
Buried Secrets Page 15
