“Better than not having it.” Ben looked to make sure everyone was belted.
“Yes, but a lot of people in a coma aren’t completely unconscious. They can hear and feel.” I wasn’t sure how much they felt. Or even heard. When Hank woke up, I would ask him. I would do an in-depth interview and add it to the series. We could work together. Even if he didn’t feel up to writing yet, he could dictate, or give me ideas. I would take it from there.
I imagined us working closely. Hank would be at home by then.
It reminded me of Arianne, his sister. I didn’t want to think about Arianne. Somehow the reality of her made Hank seem further away.
Ben headed toward the bridge. Once again he was taking me home first to get me out of the way. I felt that familiar pang of envy. They had each other and I had nobody.
The first thing I noticed on reaching home was the space where my car had been. Good old Rhoda had followed through. I wondered how much the tow would cost, not to mention the repairs themselves. Owning a car is hideously expensive. But where I lived, not having one would be worse. Much worse than when I went to Lakeside. In those days I could walk to school, but that was school only. It was a long hike into the village to do anything fun or interesting.
“Lock all the doors,” Ben reminded me as he left with Cree.
“And don’t talk to strangers,” Cree added. Evan was hardly a stranger. I wished he were, and that I’d never heard of him.
I poured myself a glass of pomegranate juice, took it to the living room where I could watch out front, and opened my cell phone.
Glyn was home. “Maddie? Is that you?”
“Yes, me. You want to know what he did this time?” I gave her a full account.
She was quiet for a moment. Two moments. Maybe a full minute. Then, “How can you be sure it was him?”
“Glynis! You tried that before. Who else could it be? Why are you defending him?” It wasn’t only Glyn who made that point, but Falco, too.
“I’m not defending him,” she prickled. “Why would I do that? I just thought—if it was somebody else and you’re not keeping an open mind, they could sneak up on you.”
Okay, that made sense. Was Glyn my friend or not?
“Back in October,” I said, “when I ran into him accidentally, he said he’d get me. He followed me all over town, right to the police station. Last week he sent pictures with my face all messed up. And he cut my brake line. I could have been killed!”
“That sucks. But how can you—”
“Don’t say it.” I took a sip of juice and tried to calm myself. “You’re right, I don’t have actual proof, but who else?”
“Maybe there’s somebody secretly in love with you,” she said.
“And they tried to kill me? When Evan’s already threatened? He threw pebbles at my window, just the way he did that time he broke in and tried to drag me away.”
“But what would be the point?” she asked. “Cutting your brake line is a bit much, even for him.”
“Maybe he wanted me to know. He wanted to be my last thought as I hurtled down the steep hill to my death.”
“I miss you,” Glyn sighed.
“You can miss me a lot more when I’m dead.”
“Maddie, don’t take it out on me. I didn’t do it.”
“But you’re defending him.”
“Am not!” She hung up.
I stared at the window, not seeing anything. I only noticed when Rhoda came home, so I got up and unlocked the door.
“Thank you for taking care of my car,” I said. “I assume you did, unless he stole it.”
“No, it’s at the garage. Do you have their number? If it’s ready, I’ll take you there.”
As we drove into town, Rhoda said, “You’d better keep it locked from now on.”
“Ben told me that, too.” Was I the stupidest one in the family? “You know what I’ve been thinking? How about a motion sensor light out in front?”
“It’s an idea.”
“I don’t think they cost all that much.” Rashly I added, “I’ll pay for it.”
“That won’t be necessary. You’re already saving us a bundle with the public school. Ben, too.”
“I miss Lakeside. Except for Evan.”
“Less than two years and you’ll be in college.”
Most of all I missed Glynis. I couldn’t understand her reaction. Defending Evan. She said she wasn’t. Just possibly she really thought she was helping me see reason.
Or she had some kind of personal interest.
She’d always admired his looks. That was before he started giving me trouble. In fact, most people seemed to like him. Only Ben, surprisingly with his Asperger’s lack of insight, had seen what others apparently missed. Or maybe he simply didn’t trust that excessive charm. Ben thought most people were phonies.
Rhoda waited while I paid the garage, just in case I didn’t have enough. I told her I might go somewhere now that I had the car. She went home and I went to the hospital.
In the parking lot, I locked my car. I never would have bothered before. Who’d want my old rattletrap? But theft, obviously, wasn’t the motive.
What if Evan picked the lock? Or jimmied open a window? There were ways of getting in. The police could do it. Rhoda had had to call them once when she was at the grocery store and locked her keys in the car. With the engine running. After that she always carried a spare key.
Even if somebody caught Evan fooling around, with his charm and quick mind he could talk his way out of it.
If he had such a quick mind, why was he so stupid? Why couldn’t he just move on?
As I waited for the elevator, my cell phone rang. Quickly I silenced the ringer and answered it.
I felt a tiny leap at the sound of Rick’s voice. “Madelyn? Are you home?”
“I’m at the hospital. Checking up.” I moved away from the elevator so others could get on.
“How’s your car?” he asked.
“It’s fixed. I just got it back.”
“I need to see you. I’m not far away. Can you wait for me there?”
I hoped not too long, or it would be dark. I couldn’t stay with Hank for very long anyway. “I’ll be in the lobby.”
I hurried up to ICU. The sight of that tube down his throat made my own throat want to gag. I couldn’t help remembering how he’d been only minutes before he was shot. So alive and full of enthusiasm.
The nurse this time was a male. I had never seen him before. His nametag said Ramon Abaya. I thought he must be Filipino. And cute. I was glad it was someone who didn’t know me, who didn’t see me come every day and just stand there. When he went to tend to a patient, I looked straight at Hank’s window and mouthed, “I love you.” I could see his chest moving rhythmically as the machine pumped air into his lungs.
Did I love him? It felt like it, even though I hardly knew the guy. Maybe it was the idea of him being so helpless. It made me fantasize.
I was turning to leave when Abaya came back. He gave me a questioning look. I gestured toward Hank’s window and asked, “Is that really living?”
“Beg your pardon?”
“I mean, if they need a machine to breathe for them, is that really being alive? I—I’m working on an article about it. I mean, a series.”
He thought that over for a bit. “It seems to me they’re alive until they die.”
“Can they die if they’re breathing artificially?”
He blinked. No one had ever asked him that before. “Sure.”
“But how can you tell, if it’s all done by machine?”
“They stop functioning. Everything stops.”
“That’s interesting,” I said. “I’ll have to do more research. Thanks.” I hurried away, thinking of Rick.
Ramon Abaya. I wrote it down. He might be a good person to interview. Or one of the other nurses, or all of them. Someone who dealt with these things every day.
Rick hadn’t come yet. I sank into one of the sofas, took ou
t my notebook, and began writing questions. I could see why Hank had been interested. There was so much to it. Poor Hank never dreamed it would happen to him.
It might be an interesting field to go into. As what? A doctor? Nurse? Studying for an MD would take forever. And I would have to learn a whole lot of stuff I didn’t need or want to know. Wasn’t that true of any field? Was there any such thing as a specialist in coma, like a comatologist, that you could do without being a doctor?
The outer door slid open and Rick came in. He smiled when he saw me. I thought he would head up to the ICU. Instead he sat down next to me and took my hand.
“It’s getting confusing,” he said, tracing my knuckles with his fingertip. “I was hoping to pin something on your ex-friend, something that would get him out of circulation, but he’s slipperier than a greased pig.”
“That’s a good description,” I said. “The pig part.”
“Don’t give pigs a bad rap. They’re not the cleanest creatures but they mean well. My grandpa said at county fairs they used to put grease on a small pig, turn it loose, and people would try to catch it. That’s where the expression came from.” He realized what he was doing to my hand, gave it a final pat, and set it on my lap. Then he turned all the way so that he faced me.
“I’ve been digging, Maddie. I found out where Evan lives and I went to his home. The woman who answered said she was his mom and insisted he’s still at Garson Academy. She got indignant when I told her they said he wasn’t. First she accused me of being mistaken, then decided it was the school’s fault.”
“How could they make a mistake like that?” I asked.
“Lots of ways. Somebody entered the wrong data. Or read the wrong line.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m confused.”
“She might be lying,” I said. “Maybe she knows he’s evil and doesn’t want him caught.”
“Did you ever meet her?” Falco asked.
“No, he always came to my house. I never met his family. He always had a reason. What’s she like?”
Rick sat back and tried to think. I wished he had on his uniform. He wore dark brown corduroy pants and a leather jacket.
“She’s got class,” he said. “All dressed up in cashmere and pearls. Seemed a bit condescending toward me, a mere police officer. She could have been lying about his whereabouts, but she didn’t seem like the type.”
“What type is that?” I asked.
“Oh, you know. Lower class and sneaky. I’m probably stereotyping.”
“Rick . . . are you some kind of snob?”
He snorted. “Me? What have I got to be snobbish about?”
“Plenty,” I said. “You’re a great guy.”
“Thanks.” He smiled. Like Hank, he had beautiful teeth. Also a dimple in his right cheek. It was adorable.
He said, “I didn’t get a chance to ask, do you know if there are any other kids in Evan’s family?”
“He never talked about any. Once he told me he’d had an older sister, or stepsister, but she died.”
“When was that?”
“When she died? About ten years ago. She was a lot older.”
“Stepsister,” Falco mused. “Yes, his mother implied she’d had another marriage. She doesn’t go by the name of Steffers.”
“He never really talked about his family,” I said. “He doesn’t seem to have much warm feeling for them. But a psychopath wouldn’t. Not for anybody.”
“That’s sad,” Falco mused. “Not even feeling close to your own family.”
“From what I’ve read, psychopaths can be lonely people and they don’t even know it. They don’t know there’s any other way.”
Maybe I would study psychology. What can be more fascinating than the human mind? Even though I’d have to learn a lot of stuff, like statistics and things that I couldn’t care less about.
But as I said, that would be true of any field.
Chapter Ten
If what Glynis surmised was true, that Evan had been expelled from Lakeside, he wouldn’t be likely to hang around there. And the library stayed open till five. I bypassed my own home and went on to the school, which was only half a mile farther.
It was absurd that I’d had to change to Southbridge when this one was so close. All to get away from Evan, and apparently it hadn’t worked. But the big plus, as Rhoda said, was that it saved my parents a huge stack of money.
I had my own plus. If I hadn’t changed schools, I would never have met Hank.
Thinking of Hank gave me a warm glow. At the same time, it made me feel wretched. If Evan had been the one who shot Hank, then I felt as if it was my fault.
I knew Rhoda would say it was Evan’s fault. That was true. But I was the one who had inflicted Evan, not only on myself, but on everyone I cared about. When I first thought of Evan being a psychopath, I had looked them up on the Internet. There didn’t seem to be a lot of agreement on how they got that way. Some thought it was inborn. Others thought it was lack of love. I couldn’t get any answers from Rhoda, who treated people instead of studying them. Rhoda never got a chance to treat someone like Evan because people like Evan don’t think there’s anything wrong with them. Anybody could see there was, but denial is part of their problem.
At that time of day, the parking lot at Lakeside was nearly empty. I wished I had a different car. People would recognize my ancient red Chevy. Maybe I didn’t care.
Now for getting in. The library stayed open, but only for people already inside the building. I’d hoped Glyn could meet me there. But she hadn’t answered the voicemail I left. I couldn’t help feeling betrayed, but Glyn had her flighty moments.
I walked around to a back door, which was actually closer to the library, and banged on it. After a third round of banging, it opened.
As I’d hoped, it was Henry the custodian. His face crinkled in a friendly smile.
“Maddie Canfield. It’s nice to see you again. You can’t stay away from us, can you?”
“Not when there’re things I need to look up.” I blew him a kiss and hurried on to the library.
Its door was open and Mrs. Keller, the librarian, a thin woman in a gray sweater, was straightening the shelves. She turned around and stared at me. Everyone knew I had left the school. I gave her a friendly wave and hurried to the yearbook section. Over the years my parents had paid mega sums to that school for Ben and me. I had a perfect right to be there.
I took out several outdated books and carried them to a table. Paula Welbourne had been sixteen, a junior, when she lapsed into her coma. Only the graduating class had individual pictures but I found her in several groups. She had long, wavy hair and wore it clipped back in a ponytail. Like Cree’s, but not as long. Nobody had hair as long as Cree’s. Paula had a pretty face that never smiled, at least not in the yearbook. Was she an unhappy person? Was that why she drank and took Valium? At sixteen she shouldn’t have been drinking, but that didn’t stop people. I’d tried it myself a few times. Never with Valium.
Only if Paula had been a senior would the yearbook have given any details. She wasn’t, so all I could find were those group pictures. At least now I knew what she looked like. I could get a handle on the girl, but there must be more information somewhere.
Mrs. Keller was back at her desk. I told her, “I’m researching for a story on a former student. Actually, Paula Welbourne, the girl who was in a coma. Do you know where I can find more material?”
“What is this for?” she asked.
I hadn’t wanted to talk about the article, but if I didn’t, I’d get nowhere. I couldn’t help remembering what Mr. Geyer said about upsetting the family, even though it was all past history. Paula had died ten years ago, after being in a coma for eight. Maybe that didn’t seem so past to her folks.
“Um—it’s going to be in The Chronicle.” I knew it would be because of the Tiger’s Sunday page. Hank would be so proud of me. I’d gone through all his material, having retrieved it from the police a
long with everything else that was in my car.
The librarian led me to an obscure door at the back and unlocked it. Inside the windowless room was a table and several file cabinets. She pulled open a drawer marked W.
“Nothing is to leave this room,” she warned. “If you want any of the information that’s in here, bring it to me and I’ll copy it for you. You’re on your honor about that. And don’t forget, we close at five.” She left the door open and looked back twice, making sure I was going to behave.
I found it easily, marked “Welbourne.” Paula had a whole file to herself. Most of its contents were newspaper clippings and most were from The Chronicle. Curses, I could have gone to the paper itself. I had an in with one of the reporters, but I might have had to read it on microfilm. This was easier, even if the paper showed its age.
I had to hurry. It was getting on toward five.
Every mention of the Lakeside School was marked in red ink. Paula had been at a party. That figured. She left the party late with a young man from another school. No one seemed to know who he was. The other partygoers were all from Lakeside. Maybe that was why Lakeside had put in stricter rules even for off-campus activities. Couldn’t blame them. Somebody had to crack down.
Observers said Paula was drunk, but somehow she got home. Luckily it was warm weather, because she was found on the doorstep. No one noticed her until the newspaper deliverer came by and woke the family. I saved that clipping to be photocopied, and several more.
The last one showed the family walking away from Paula’s funeral. Her father, stepmother, and step...brother?
Evan?
Oh...my...God.
I was not going to interview Evan. But what...
Oh my God.
* * * *
I tried again to reach Glynis. This just had to be shared. I left another message. “Call me! It’s important! I mean it’s interesting. It’s mind-boggling! So call me.”
Cree had never met Evan, although she’d heard plenty about him from me. She would be the next best recipient of my news. But Cree didn’t have a cell phone. If I called her home I would get her grandmother. She would be agog but didn’t know the history, so she wouldn’t have a clue what I was talking about. All I could do was go home and share it with Ben.
The Long Sleep Page 9
