In My Dreams

by Muriel Jensen

  Helen ignored the cup he pushed toward her and said finally, looking from Ben to Jack, “I wish the two of you would do me a favor and pitch in together to buy a hardware store that you can run.”

  Ben and Jack looked at each other in confusion.

  “Then I can stop worrying about the two of you being killed!” she shouted and stormed off to the bedroom. Sarah followed with Helen’s coffee.

  * * *

  JACK’S FATHER HELD his cup toward him. “Do we still have brandy in that cupboard?”

  Jack retrieved the bottle and added a shot to his mug and his father’s. When Ben protested being passed over, Jack reminded him, “You’re on pain medication. You can’t drink.”

  Ben groaned, then shook his head. “I tried to put a shirt on, but the padding’s too thick. I hate that Mom’s upset.”

  His father relaxed in his chair and smiled faintly. “She’s always thought her job was to keep all of us in perfect health. She forgets the world is a dangerous place. I guess that’s just a wife and mother’s job.” He took a sip of the laced coffee, seemed to savor it, then smiled and put the cup down. He looked from Ben to Jack. “I, on the other hand, knew the first time I saw the two of you jumping off the garage roof together, holding opposite ends of a bedsheet for a parachute, that prayer and health insurance was going to do me more good than worrying.”

  Jack and Ben both laughed. Jack remembered that clearly. The awful events that changed his life hadn’t happened yet, and he’d still been Ben’s friend, not his brother. He guessed they’d been about six and filled with the adventures of Batman, Spider-Man and Captain America. They’d felt fairly sure that if they caught a good breeze and jumped high enough, they’d fly.

  Reality had broken Ben’s ankle and sprained Jack’s arm.

  “So how’s your arm, really?” his father asked Ben, his gaze direct. “Is it going to heal completely? Are you really fine?”

  “Yes and yes,” Ben assured him quickly. “It’s a little painful. I was trying to do without the pain medication because I can’t go back to work on it, but Sarah insists I need it, and if I forget to take it, she literally puts it in my mouth, then pours water on me until it goes down.”

  His father laughed. “Good.” He turned to Jack. “And how are you doing? Still having nightmares?”

  Jack wanted to relieve his dad’s mind and deny that he continued to be plagued by them, but those eyes saw everything. “Yes, but I think I’m starting to figure them out. I imagine once that happens, they’ll stop.”

  “Really.”

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “At least, that’s what Ben says. And we know what a great shrink he is.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Gary agreed. “The kind that gets shot.”

  Jack took a big swallow of coffee. “I’ve been looking for my sisters since I’ve been home,” he said. “Before I tell Mom, are you okay with that?”

  Clearly surprised by the question, his dad said, “Of course! We don’t own you and we have no exclusive right to your loyalties. What have you found out?”

  He told him about thinking he’d found Corie and everything he’d discovered, even the arrest warrant.

  Ben, who’d been in the hospital when it happened, leaned forward with concern. “The Mexican border? I think that’s dangerous territory, Jack. You’re going out there?”

  “It’s near the border. I want to make sure you’re recovered before I set out.”

  Ben groaned impatiently.

  “But,” Gary told Jack gravely, “family comes before everything.”

  Jack gently punched his shoulder. “Right. That’s why I’m staying with Ben. And you and Mom just got home. You might need me around.” When Gary would have protested, he waved that away with a swipe of his hand. “I know. But I’m one of those rare people lucky enough to have two families who mean everything to me. This can wait a few days.”

  His father nodded on a noisy swallow. “No, it can’t. You go find your little sister.”

  * * *

  “I’M SORRY TO be so emotional,” Helen said, sitting on the window seat in the master bedroom. There was early November sun just beyond the window, sparkling on the mountain-ash leaves and the grass Jack had just mowed.

  “It’s been such a good life, you know. Ben’s been a wonderful son, and then we got Jack...” She took in a breath, trying to maintain her composure. “It’s scary to think that one single moment could change all that.”

  Sarah, sitting beside her, put an arm around her. “Helen, Ben was shot, but luckily only in his arm, and he’s so strong and cussed, he’s already on his way to full recovery. Jack’s happy to be home. He still has the occasional nightmare, but he’s dealing with it. Your boys are going to be fine.”

  “I hope so. I want to see grandchildren—and soon.”

  Uh-oh. Not only did this seem like the wrong time to tell her about Jack and her, but the wrong time to explain that she’d have to wait until Ben got married for grandchildren.

  “While I was getting groceries,” Sarah said, “I also got you some bubble bath. Thought you might enjoy it after the long trip home. Want me to fill the tub? Or would you rather nap first?”

  Helen looked fondly at Sarah. “How did we get so lucky to have you in our lives?” Before Sarah could reply, Helen answered her own question. “I guess we can attribute our good fortune to Ben’s good taste in women and your lead foot on the accelerator... I think I will take a bath.”

  Sarah laughed and got to her feet. “All right. I made some snacks in case you guys were hungry. You can have them after your bath.”

  Downstairs, Gary, in his recliner, and Jack and Ben on the sofa, were watching a reality show that seemed to be about a family who bought and sold antique weapons. They laughed about a cannon set up on someone’s lawn as a garden sculpture.

  “I’m not sure that sends the right message to visitors,” Ben observed.

  “Yeah,” Gary contributed. “Wipe your feet or you’re cannon fodder.”

  Sarah was happy to hear the laughter. She still had things to tell Gary and Helen, but that could wait. Laughter was good for the soul.

  * * *

  BEGGAR’S BAY’S HIGH-SCHOOL drama class was busy decorating the stage to be used for the talent show. Students and a few mothers and teachers hung mirrors alternating with strings of beads at twelve-inch intervals around the stage. Sarah admired the way they caught and reflected light as she and her seniors walked into the space, everyone distracted by the beautiful environment.

  Jack, Ben, Mario and Rico were in the middle of their number, dressed in their nineties’ boy-band look for full effect. Some families who’d come to watch and lend support sat in the front rows. Gary and Helen were there. Helen held Trina De Angelis on her lap. Gary talked with Margie.

  The boys were applauded loudly, a little feverish screaming coming from the moms in attendance. The students looked at each other with nervous smiles, clearly a little embarrassed by the women’s behavior.

  A group of firemen performed “Stouthearted Men,” a 1920s song with heroic lyrics written for a male chorus, to great enthusiasm from the audience. Someone from parks and rec juggled plates, and Sarah ran to Mario’s father’s aid when one of the plates went rogue and landed on his head. He insisted he was fine, and a few simple hand tests suggested he was.

  Vinny and his friends did a surprisingly sweet rendition of several Sinatra numbers. Then Margaret stood in the middle of the stage without instrumental support and, with every ounce of her dignified-lady persona in place, sang “Among My Souvenirs” in her crystal-clear alto with a surprising rock quality. The song was about searching through old memories and finding a broken heart. Everyone stopped to listen, the young people working on the stage included.

  Margaret was nervous at first, but Sarah saw the moment she lost fear an
d became a part of the lyrics. She was wonderful.

  When the last note dissolved on the air, there was complete silence for several seconds, then the applause was deafening. Margaret smiled shyly and put a hand to her heart and began to laugh. Vinny, Sarah noted, looked stunned.

  Margaret walked off the stage and the decorating group assembled into a tableau and began the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet.

  Jack slipped into the seat beside Sarah. “You may have to hire an agent and take this whole show on the road,” he whispered. “The talent is amazing. And I’m not even talking about Ben, Mario, Rico and me.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “The reporter from the Bugle is here. The publicity is going to help us make a killing. I can’t wait to—”

  She stopped abruptly when she heard a sound that yanked her out of the moment and back into another time and place. It was completely wrong here, her brain was telling her even as she scanned the stage for the source.

  It had been a gurgle, the sound of a body at war with its air supply, and it made her heart thump. No, she thought anxiously. Please, no.

  Then she heard it again and a boy of about sixteen standing stage left with a string of beads in his hand dropped where he stood.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THERE WAS SILENCE, then gasps, then shouts. Sarah ran for the stage, hearing a cry from a woman somewhere behind her. She’d thought she’d never have to do this again. It wasn’t fair. She hated the memories of her old life, the terrible tension, the grim realities and the heartbreaking vulnerability of sick children.

  She dropped to her knees by the boy, his eyes now rolled back into his head. The gurgling noise continued and the No! in her head screamed. The boy was in full cardiac arrest.

  From somewhere in that black and hated past came old knowledge and, under the panic, the steps to follow. She tried not to think about how they sometimes didn’t work.

  “Jack!” she shouted as she checked that the boy’s airway was free and began chest compressions.

  “Right here,” he said.

  And he was, right at her elbow. “Find the defibrillator! There has to be one.”

  “I’ll show you.” One of the students kneeling nearby sprang to her feet and Jack ran after her.

  “Someone call 9-1-1!” she shouted again.

  Ben’s voice shouted back, “I’m on it!”

  Now Sarah leaned down to begin breathing into the boy’s mouth.

  A woman knelt beside her, putting a hand to the boy’s arm. “Breathe, Justin,” she said through her tears. Sarah remembered the scream she’d heard behind her. This had to be the boy’s mother. “Please breathe.”

  Sarah resumed the chest compressions as the mother said, “He has arrhythmogenic right ventricular dysplasia.” She uttered the scientific term as though she’d had to deal with it for a while. Sarah hadn’t heard the term in several years, and even then, the condition had been a relatively rare thing that caused the heart muscle to slowly change into fatty tissue and scar. It was a dangerous threat to normal life. She wanted to tell the mother that implantable defibrillators were available, but now wasn’t the time.

  Sarah had just begun the breathing again when the distraught mother said, almost as if she’d read her mind, “He’s scheduled to be implanted with a personal defibrillator next month. Please, please keep him alive for that.”

  Jack knelt beside her with the automated external defibrillator. “Turn on the power,” Sarah said quickly between breaths. “It’ll give you voice instructions.”

  “Got it,” Jack said. “I’ve used one of these before.” After he applied the pads with the electrodes to the boy’s chest, he added, “I’m going to hit Analyze, right?” He paused, then caught Sarah’s quick glance in his direction. “It says to shock.”

  “Okay,” she continued the breathing as Jack told everyone to move back. Sarah herself sat back as he hit the shock button. Justin’s body jumped, but the monitor showed no heart rhythm.

  She felt the air pressure change in the room when everyone gasped. Jack followed the procedure again and this time the line jumped on the monitor, frail at first, then steady, regular.

  Justin’s mother wept as Justin’s leg moved and then a hand stirred.

  Somewhere outside, a siren whined and grew louder. Sarah kept breathing into Justin’s mouth until an EMT knelt beside her. “You’ve got a rhythm,” he said, studying the line. “Good job. What’s his name?”

  Sarah stopped doing CPR. “Justin. This is his mother.” Then she stood and stepped out of the way as the EMT took over. He told Justin that he was going to be fine, to just hang in there.

  Justin’s mother threw her arms around Sarah, sobbing, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  “I’m so grateful that it worked,” Sarah said, feeling as though she might just collapse herself.

  Justin was lifted onto a gurney and, with a final hug for Sarah, his mother joined the procession down the stage steps and out of the auditorium.

  Sarah watched them go, unaware of her surroundings, as she thanked heaven this event had had a good ending, one of joy rather than horror.

  When she came back to awareness, she realized everyone was staring at her and smiling. And as she stood just where Margaret had stood to sing, it occurred to her that it was as though she’d performed for the house.

  Showed off her talent.

  Her talent.

  A shudder went through her that she felt in every extremity, then seemed to settle like a weight in the very core of her being. The truth was that it didn’t matter that she’d decided she didn’t want to take care of sick children, that fifteen to eighteen percent of them were still out there with chronic disease. She had the knowledge to help, and whenever they crossed her path she had to try, or be a horrible human being. She felt her spirits dip under the weight.

  Jack put an arm at her back and peered into her face. “You’re not going to faint, are you?” he asked gently. “You’re pale and trembling.”

  She turned and looped her arms around his neck. “I won’t faint, but can I lean on you for a minute?”

  He pulled her closer. “Absolutely.”

  She relaxed and simply relished in the security the strong arms around her provided. In a perfect world she’d be able to extend this moment forever—no painful past, no scary future—just this blissful embrace.

  Then she became aware of the sound of applause.

  “I believe that’s for you,” Jack said, dropping his arms to cup her elbows. “That was remarkable, Sarah. I think you’re going to have to take a bow.” He turned her toward the people collected around them. A part of her wanted to deny the praise, but another part knew they meant their appreciation in the kindest way.

  “Sometimes awful things have a good outcome,” she said when the clapping finally stopped. “The defibrillator brought him back. All I did was keep him going until it did.”

  Everyone continued to look at her as though she’d performed a miracle. The family of a patient often thought medical people had heavenly powers because they understood the workings of the body. But understanding how it worked and making it work well were entirely different things.

  Jerica’s parents had had that look on their faces, but when Jerica died it had turned from adoration to bitter disappointment.

  “How did you know what to do?” Margie asked.

  Sarah hunched a shoulder. “I used to be a pediatric nurse, and we were drilled on CPR.” When everyone looked at her in surprise, she added, “It’s a long story, but for right now, I think we should all go home. Our acts look really good, so let’s just keep practicing until our dress rehearsal next Friday night. Whoever learns news about Justin has to promise to share, okay?”

  They agreed and began moving toward the exits. Helen, Gary and Ben cam
e to join her and Jack onstage.

  “Good work, Sarah,” Ben said, giving her a quick hug. He clapped Jack on the shoulder as his parents moved in to embrace Sarah. “You, too. You use those in the military? We’re just starting to get them in our units.”

  “Yeah. I helped use one on a Medevac helicopter.”

  “You taking Sarah home? I’m going with Mario and Rico to the hospital. Justin’s their cousin. Mom and Dad are having dinner at the neighbors’ tonight, so the two of you can relax.”

  “Okay.”

  “And I don’t think you have to worry about explaining anything to them about you and Sarah.” Ben gave him a rueful grin. “When she shouted to you for help, then turned into your arms when it was over, they figured it out. They even looked happy about it.”

  Jack felt relieved and confused. “They did?”

  “Yeah.” Ben hooked his good arm around Jack’s neck. “Dad said I need a woman more ‘out there’ than Sarah.”

  “‘Out there’?”

  “His words exactly. I don’t get it, either. I mean, I’m so...what’s the word?”

  “Difficult? Insane? Argumentative?”

  Ben tightened his grip. “I was going for sensitive.”

  “Like the sensitivity you’re showing right now,” Jack said.

  Ben lowered his arm. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want in a woman. They’re too complicated for my simple mind.”

  Helen and Sarah joined them. “She should go home,” Helen said, placing Sarah beside Jack, “and have a hot bath and a drink.” Helen’s look into Jack’s face told him she wasn’t happy about being kept in the dark about his relationship with Sarah, but that they would talk about it later.

  “I have to take Vinny, Margaret and Jasper home first,” Sarah said.

  “I can do that,” Ben volunteered. “I can easily drive with one arm.”

  She thanked him with a smile. “That’s nice of you, Ben, but I’m fine. I always walk Jasper into his apartment, and I also have to make sure Vinny takes cold medicine for his cough. I’m fine. Really.”