It was an eight-or nine-minute drive to the hospital. When Amy pulled into the parking lot for the emergency room, Jeff’s truck was already there. She rushed through the sliding glass doors that opened in front of her and into the waiting room. There was no sign of Jeff or Ian.
“I’m Amy Clarke,” she said to a young man seated behind the intake desk. “My husband just brought in my son, Ian. They think he may have a broken arm. Where are they?”
The man yawned and looked at a computer screen while he moved a handheld mouse. Amy fidgeted.
“In triage room 3. One of the nurses will need to take you back there.”
“Then get one up here right now!”
The man didn’t respond but picked up the phone.
“It’ll be a minute,” he said.
Amy fumed as she stood beside the desk. From where she stood, she could see that the young man was playing a game of solitaire on the computer. She made a mental note of his name. She would either report him to the hospital administration or use his name for the most evil character in her next novel. In a few moments a blond-haired nurse in scrubs appeared behind the young man.
“Mrs. Clarke?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Come with me.”
The nurse led Amy past a row of glass-faced cabinets filled with medical supplies.
“How is he?” Amy asked as soon as she was beside the nurse.
“They’ve taken him to radiology.”
“So his arm is broken?”
“The doctor and radiologist will review the X-rays and let you know.”
“Did you see his arm?”
The woman glanced sideways at Amy.
“Yes.”
“Was the bone sticking through the skin?”
“No, if it’s broken, it’s a closed fracture.”
Amy had been totally focused on getting to the hospital. The reality of what had happened to her little boy suddenly hit her. Tears flooded her eyes. She grabbed a tissue from her purse as they walked.
“He’s a brave fellow,” the nurse said when she saw Amy’s tears. “He sat very still on the examining table when Dr. Hostettler checked him.”
“Which arm is it?” Amy sniffled.
“The left. It looked like the injury is to one of the lower bones.”
“Could he move it?”
“Not really.”
They reached the radiology department and turned a corner. Amy almost bumped into Jeff, who was standing beside the door to the room where the X-ray machine was located. His shirt and pants were covered in mud. Through a clouded glass she could see Ian. He was wearing a T-shirt and standing in front of an X-ray machine. A female technician was beside him and gently touched Ian’s arm to move it into position. Amy saw Ian wince in pain.
“What happened?” Amy demanded.
“He was riding in the back of a four-seater when it popped over a big rock and slid into a tree. Ian’s arm was resting against the outside of the roll bar and got hit.”
“Who was driving?”
“I was.”
The technician turned Ian around for another scan.
“I wasn’t going fast, probably less than five miles an hour. It was a freak accident. I’m sorry.”
Everything about Jeff’s body language and tone of voice communicated sincerity, but Amy wasn’t ready to give up her right to be angry with him.
“Then what?”
“We were close to the beginning of the course, so I was able to get him out quickly. We kept an ice pack on the arm during the drive to the hospital. He was a real trouper with the doctor. You would have been proud of him.”
The technician brought Ian out of the X-ray room. His jeans were muddy. Amy realized they must have cut off his shirt.
“Hi, Mom,” Ian said in a slightly shaky voice. “I think I broke my arm.”
Amy wanted to hug him but was afraid to touch him. The nurse who’d brought Amy to the radiology department came up to them.
“I’ll take you back to the examination room to wait,” the nurse said. “Dr. Hostettler talked with Dr. Fletchall, the orthopedist on call. He should be here shortly to discuss treatment.”
They reached the examination room.
“You can lie on the bed or sit in a chair,” the nurse said to Ian.
“I want to lie down,” he replied. “I feel really tired.”
“The adrenaline is wearing off,” the nurse said to Amy and Jeff. “And the pain medication is taking effect. We’ve also given him a mild sedative.”
The nurse helped Ian onto the bed. He stretched out and the nurse gently positioned his arm.
“I’ll get a fresh cold pack,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
Ian lay on the bed with his eyes closed. Amy couldn’t tell if he was breathing. She stepped closer to the bed and saw the slow rise and fall of his chest.
“He may be asleep,” Amy said softly to Jeff.
Ian opened one eye and shook his head but didn’t speak. He closed his eye. The nurse returned with a cold pack and placed it on Ian’s lower arm.
“Leave it on for five minutes and then remove it for a couple,” she said to Amy.
Amy’s phone, which was in her purse at her feet, beeped, and she took it out. It was Natalie. She motioned to Jeff and stepped out into the hallway.
“I’m at the hospital with Ian,” Amy said softly. “They think he broke his arm.”
“I know,” Natalie replied. “Megan called to let me know and asked me to pray for you.”
“She did?” Amy asked in surprise.
“Yes. And she wanted the phone number of the woman who is in charge of the prayer chain at the church so she could let her know, too. How is Ian?”
“He just got out of X-ray, and we’re waiting for the orthopedist to get here. It looks like his left arm is broken. He and Jeff were riding on a four-wheeler, and Ian’s arm hit a tree.”
Amy looked through the open door. If she didn’t know something was wrong, she’d think her son was taking a Saturday afternoon nap.
“How are you holding up?”
“Starting to calm down now that I’m here and can watch him. I know kids break their arms, but I wasn’t prepared for this.”
“No premonition in a dream like you had for Noah’s field trip?”
Amy hadn’t even thought about that possibility. Natalie’s question was a good one.
“And that doesn’t make any sense,” Amy said. “Why would I be able to tip you off and not get anything in advance for my own son that he was going to be in danger? I mean, I’m glad I could warn you, but it doesn’t seem fair.”
Natalie was silent for a moment. “Maybe it’s because there was no way to suspect the field trip might be hazardous. Everyone knows getting on a four-wheeler can be risky.”
“But Ian was so excited I didn’t have the heart to try to stop them when Jeff told me about it this morning. I really didn’t have much time to think it over and react.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Natalie said quickly. “Or Jeff, either. I’m sure he feels terrible.”
Amy could see Jeff sitting in the chair with his head bowed.
“Yeah, I need to say something to him. I didn’t yell or anything when I got here, but I’m sure he’s wondering when I’m going to blow up.”
“I’ve never seen you blow up.”
“My blowups are like icebergs. Most of them are hidden beneath the surface.”
“Which may not be good for your health. Listen, call me if I can do anything. Can I bring over supper tonight? I have beef stew cooking in the Crock-Pot, and there’s no way we can eat it all.”
Natalie was a true friend. Amy could receive help from her without hesitation because her kindness was motivated by pure love.
“That would be great,” Amy said. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be here, and Jeff loves beef stew.”
“Consider it done. Let me know when you get home, and I’ll hop right over.”
Amy returned to the triage room. She touched Jeff on the shoulder. He looked up in her face.
“I know this was an accident,” she said. “And I don’t blame you.”
He put his hand over hers.
“Thanks.”
Fifteen minutes later a gray-haired doctor came into the room and introduced himself as Dr. Fletchall. He turned on a light box mounted on one wall of the room and slipped an X-ray beneath a clip at the top. Seeing how small Ian’s arm looked caused Amy’s emotions to swell once again.
“You can see it best on this one.” He pointed to a hazy line in one of the lower two bones in the arm. “He has a fracture of the ulna. It’s what we call a greenstick fracture because it resembles what happens when you try to break a green stick. It’s cracked up the bone on one side but doesn’t go all the way through. That’s good news. The better news is there isn’t any indication of damage in the area of his growth plate. He should heal as good as new with proper splinting.”
“Thank God,” Amy said.
“Yes,” Jeff said.
“How did this happen?” the doctor asked Jeff. “It would take a fairly hard blow to do this.”
Jeff described the incident in the four-wheeler. Ian opened his eyes.
“Was he wearing a seat restraint and helmet?” the doctor asked.
“Yes, sir,” Ian replied in a soft voice.
“Good,” the doctor said, then faced Jeff and Amy. “Young bones don’t do very well when they come in contact with tree trunks, but they bend a lot more than ours. I’ve asked the orthopedic nurse to prepare material for a fiberglass cast.”
“Are you going to have to set it?” Amy asked.
“Nothing drastic. Only enough to make sure it’s aligned properly.” The doctor turned to the bed and pointed to the lower part of Ian’s arm without touching it. “His arm is rotated outward more than it should be. I’ll need to correct that.”
“What will you do to it?” Ian asked.
“Make sure it heals straight.” The doctor glanced sideways at Amy. “I think I’ll give him something stronger to put him in a twilight state. That way he won’t remember anything.”
“How long will he be in the cast?” Jeff asked.
“Probably four weeks or so. I’ll have you bring him in after a couple of weeks for a recheck.”
The doctor left, and a nurse returned to give Ian a shot. He whimpered slightly, but by the time Dr. Fletchall and the orthopedic nurse came back to set and cast the arm, he showed no sign of discomfort. The care the doctor used when handling Ian’s arm comforted Amy.
“Will the place where the break occurred be stronger?” Amy asked.
“No, the research doesn’t support that theory. Is your son interested in any sports?”
“All of them,” Jeff replied. “But he loves football the best.”
The doctor glanced up.
“Then I’ll see you at some point in the future after the cast removal.”
When they left the hospital, Ian sat in the backseat of Amy’s car and leaned against the door with his eyes closed. He was sound asleep when she pulled into the driveway. Jeff carried him upstairs. They met Megan on the landing at the top of the stairs.
“How is he?” Megan asked.
“He’ll be fine in a month or so,” Amy replied. “Thanks for calling Natalie and the prayer coordinator at the church. I really appreciate it.”
“I did what I thought you would do.”
“And I apologize for saying you were selfish. You wouldn’t have been able to do anything at the hospital.”
“It’s okay.”
Amy covered Ian with a sheet and tucked him in.
“He’ll need a pain pill in two hours even if we have to wake him up,” she said to Jeff.
Amy went downstairs while Jeff showered and changed into clean clothes. He was still upstairs when Natalie arrived with the beef stew.
“That smells yummy,” Amy said, lifting the lid on a large container. “But you gave us too much. Is there enough for your family?”
“And the neighbors on both sides.”
“Can you stay for a minute?” Amy asked.
The two women sat at the kitchen table while Amy told Natalie about Ian’s injury and treatment.
“I’m sorry I brought that up about your dreams,” Natalie said when Amy finished. “I was thinking out loud. I didn’t want to upset you.”
“It’s okay. I thought about it while I waited for the doctor to finish with Ian. I can’t expect the Lord to reveal everything bad that’s going to happen to my family. No one goes through life with that kind of information. But I do want to see what God wants to show me and hear what he wants to tell me.”
“You’ve changed,” Natalie said.
“How?”
“When you warned me about Noah’s field trip and saw the vase of flowers in my house, you didn’t want to know anything at all about the future.”
“Yeah, and I’m still not sure I can handle it, but I don’t really have a choice, do I? Ignoring my dreams isn’t an option.”
After Natalie left, Amy cooked a batch of corn muffins. Megan liked Natalie’s beef stew, and Jeff finished three bowls before licking his spoon and pushing the empty bowl a few inches away from him.
Amy checked on Ian several times during the night and gave him pain medicine. She fell into a sound sleep at 4:00 a.m. and woke up to gentle pressure on her left shoulder. She cracked her eyes open and jumped. It was Ian.
“What are you doing out of bed?” she asked.
“I’m hungry. Did I eat supper last night? I don’t remember coming home from the hospital.”
Amy went downstairs and fixed a snack that she brought up to his room. The following morning he felt so much better after breakfast that Jeff said it was okay for Amy and Megan to go to church while he stayed home with Ian. Amy hesitated until Megan spoke up and said she wanted to go.
“We’ll only be gone an hour and a half,” Amy said. “I’ll keep my phone on vibrate so you can text me if I need to come home.”
“Don’t worry,” Jeff said. “While you’re gone, I’ll help Ian take a bath.”
Before the church service started, Amy fielded questions from several people about Carl Fincannon.
“I didn’t hear anything about that,” Megan said as the last person left and they headed to their seats.
“You’ve had plenty to deal with in your life this week.”
“You were dodging those people’s questions. I can tell when you’re not telling the whole truth.”
“And I can tell when you’re not telling the whole truth,” Amy replied. “That makes us even.”
Shortly after they sat down, Amy glanced around the sanctuary. Most of the faces were familiar. A young couple in their late twenties who were seated a few rows ahead of Amy raised their hands when the pastor recognized first-time visitors. The woman turned to the side as a packet of information was passed to her by one of the ushers. When she saw the woman’s profile, Amy gasped.
twenty-one
During the sermon, a debate raged inside Amy. Every so often, she shifted in her seat so she could see the woman, and her heart raced ahead a few beats. Megan seemed to be paying attention to Reverend Harbough’s sermon based on the story of the woman who touched the hem of Jesus’ garment and was healed. As much as she wanted to follow along, Amy didn’t have the ability to concentrate on anything except the image that flashed through her mind each time she saw the young woman’s silhouette.
At the end of the service, Reverend Harbough invited anyone who wanted to receive prayer to come forward. The woman slipped from her row and made her way down front. Distance diminished the uncomfortable compulsion Amy had to speak to her. The music from the final song ended, and everyone started toward the aisles. Megan was in front of Amy. When she reached the aisle, she turned around.
“Is it too late to go to the front and ask someone to pray with me?” she asked Amy.
“No.
What’s on your heart?”
“The yucky stuff that has happened to me at school has made me feel sick on the inside. I know it’s not the same as the woman in the story, but I want Jesus to take the bad feeling away.”
Even though she wanted to get out of the sanctuary as quickly as possible, there was no way Amy could deny Megan’s request.
They wove their way through the crowd. A trained group of prayer counselors had positioned themselves near the pulpit platform. The young woman Amy saw at the beginning of the service was on the right receiving prayer. A middle-aged woman who was one of the volunteer leaders with the youth group came over to Amy and Megan.
“Hi, Megan,” she said with a kind smile. “How can I pray for you?”
While Megan talked, Amy’s attention was distracted. The volunteer leader and Megan bowed their heads to pray. Amy closed her eyes for a few seconds and then opened them to make sure the young woman to her right hadn’t left. An older couple who had been members of the church for a long time were praying for her. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Amy closed her eyes and focused on Megan, who was sniffling. Amy pressed a tissue into her hand. The youth leader finished praying and gave Megan a hug.
“Thanks for coming forward,” the woman said. “It took a lot of courage. Is there anything else you want me to pray about with you?”
Megan hesitated. Amy glanced over at the young woman who was standing with the older couple. Her eyes were now open.
“No, I guess not,” Megan said.
“I’m here for you,” the woman said, then motioned to Amy. “And I know your mother is, too.”
“What?” Amy asked.
“You’re here for Megan.”
“Yes, of course.”
Amy and Megan turned away at the same time as the young woman. She had been crying and held a wad of tissues in her hand. Their paths crossed at the beginning of the aisle.
“Good morning,” Amy said, her mouth dry.
The woman looked at her with red eyes.
“Hello,” she said.
They took a couple of steps together.
“I’m Amy Clarke, and this is my daughter, Megan.”
Megan gave Amy a questioning look.
The Living Room Page 21
