by Su Williams
“What happened?”
“It was an accident, Em. Remember?”
Remember? Remember is cuihmnigh in Irish. “Umm…not really.”
“We were coming home from Cali over Fourth of July Pass. Daddy lost control on a patch of ice and we crashed. You were laying down and weren’t wearing your seatbelt, so you were ejected from the car.”
Daylight masquerades as dusk, the clouds heavy-laden with snow. An arctic blast extends its arm, balling its fist to bludgeon the car from the road. Brake lights flash a glaring red. The tires whir and whine on the frozen asphalt, seeking elusive purchase. The wind flings the car across three frosted lanes. Panic twists my father’s face as the car fishtails out of control. His frantic hands, hands that can do anything, build anything, grapple uselessly at the wheel. My mother’s face is fear-white, her mouth a perfect ‘o’ that disappears beneath her small, stark hand. A wall of white emerges out of the flurry before the windshield, but not of snow. Cement. Massive and merciless. The shiny new sedan plows into the bridge abutment, lifting Mom’s side of the car into flight. Slumped in the back seat dozing, the momentum propels me into the back of my mom’s seat. On the first tumble, my door pops open and the force ejects me from the car. I lay across the frigid pavement and watch as giant sparkling snowflakes of shattering glass fly into the air as the car rolls over and over. Metal screams and moans in protest. Finally settling on its top, the car slides across the icy black tarmac, a path of broken scattered pieces in its wake.
“Heart Flight flew you in to the hospital,” Dad explained. “We almost lost you there a couple of times.” His throat clenched on the final words. “It’s so good just to see your eyes open.”
Flashes of two men crossed my vision. Fear, anger, grief and longing accompanied them. They were—magicians? And the devil himself pursued. I scratched my head.
“I was dreaming,” I groaned.
“I don’t doubt it, honey. They’ve had you on some serious narcotics.”
I pushed myself up on my pillows and every muscle complained. Mom’s tiny hands fluttered around me, fluffing my pillows, smoothing my hair, caressing my shoulder. Her knuckles split and bleed, smearing the window in a web of red. I grasped her hand, searching for the damage.
“But you guys weren’t hurt?” I asked, puzzled by the conflict in my brain.
“Just minor stuff,” Dad explained. “Our seatbelts saved us. And the airbags.” His strong hand squeezed mine. “But we don’t have to talk about that right now. We’re just glad you finally woke up.”
“I dreamed…” I began, but that didn’t seem right. “I dreamed you died, and someone attacked me, and I was all alone except for…except for…”
“It was just a dream,” Mom reassured. “What matters is that you’re back with us and we can focus on getting you well.”
I pinched my eyes closed and then reopened them. Yep, Mom and Dad were still there. They hadn’t disappeared into the mists of my mind. But when I closed my eyes those two men gazed down at me on the insides of my eyelids. One with dark chocolate eyes and deep brown hair and something ‘not quite good’ etched on his face. The other with ebony blue eyes, that peered down at me with such worry and affection that it wrenched my heart and sent it fluttering with heat. The incessant beep of the heart monitor next to my bed kicked into high gear.
“Emari? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I was just thinking about my dream.” We were quiet for a few moments, each parent stroking one of my arms. “So, I’m not dreaming now? You’re alive? And you won’t ever leave me again?” I was having a Wizard of Oz moment, when Dorothy finally returns home and pledges never to leave again.
“No, baby. You’re not dreaming. We’re fine. You’re the one who got hurt, not us. And we’ll stay by your side no matter what.” Dad always knew just the right words to say to make me feel better.
“How long have I been—out?” I whispered.
“Almost three days.” Tears flooded Mom’s eyes and choked off the last word like those three days had been the most horrific days of her life. They might have been.
Three days? I’ve lost three days of my life? My brain couldn’t comprehend it. The last thing I remembered…the last thing I remembered…I couldn’t remember.
“I’m tired now.” The simple conversation had sapped all my strength, leaving me tired and aching.
Mom patted my shoulder. “You go to sleep then. And we’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.”
“You promise? You won’t leave me for even a minute?”
“We promise,” they said in unison and the auto-dose of morphine washed through my veins and submersed my mind into a fuzzy darkness.
*
The steady beep of my heart monitor roused me from sleep. Every inch of me still ached. Daddy sat slumped in the hospital chair, snoring softly. The room was washed in a dim blue glow from the lights to the helipad outside. Mom must’ve been in the cafeteria getting a coffee. Or did she drink tea? I loved my parents—probably more attached to them than most eighteen year old girls. They were the best parents in the world. Certainly not perfect, but willing to admit their imperfections. Not that they had many—at least not to me.
Emi, honey?
I twisted as best as the pain would allow, searched the dim glow for the owner of the voice. “Who’s there?” Dad stirred at the sound of my voice, but he didn’t awaken.
Emari, close your eyes and you’ll find me.
Close my eyes? How was I supposed to see anything with my eyes closed? “Why can’t I see you?”
This time the sound of my voice awoke my father. He lunged to my side and clutched my hand. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“I heard a voice—a man’s voice.”
His warm fingers brushed stray bangs out of my eyes. “There’s no one here, baby.”
“It was in my head.”
Dad’s face twisted with concern. Was his daughter hearing voices? Was there damage all the scans had missed? “It was probably just a dream. Those pain meds can do a number on your mind.”
I nodded, and instantly wished I hadn’t. “Yeah, I guess.”
His hand cupped my cheek, and tears welled up in his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re going to be okay. It was so touch and go there for a while. I don’t know what we would do without you.”
“Now, now, none of that,” came my mother’s voice from the door. She smiled in at us from the shadows, a Styrofoam cup of something hot in each hand. She entered and handed a cup to Dad, then leaned down to give him a loud smooch. A weak smile grew on my lips. Even as a child, their affection made me blush and giggle. Now, it just made me happy.
I opened my mouth to yawn but had to stifle it. The aching muscles in my jaw cramped and protested. Mom patted my thigh. “Go back to sleep, baby. We’ll be right here when you wake up.”
“O-kay…” I closed my eyes and started to drift. Why do they keep calling me ‘baby’? Ivy is Baby. They haven’t called me that since I gave Ivy the nickname. The drugs forced me under, into the rabbit hole.
*
Emi, honey? I need you to listen.
I stirred under the crisp white hospital sheet. Who’s there?
It’s me, honey. It’s Nick.
Caverns formed on my brow and smashed my brain. I scowled but even that hurt. Please go away. I don’t feel good.
Emi, please listen. All of this—the hospital, the crash—your parents—none of it is real. Search your heart and you’ll know I’m telling you the truth.
“No!” I moaned in my sleep.
Emari, this isn’t real. You know your parents were killed in that accident. You weren’t even there. You weren’t in the car. You were home in the cottage.
My body bucked away from the thought. “No!”
Emi, honey. In your heart of hearts, you know I’m telling you the truth.
“Go away! I hate you!” That aching, empty place inside me craved the reality of this.
Vice-like hands gripped
my arms and held me to the bed. “Easy there, Sweet.” I opened my eyes to a face that seemed—familiar? Dark chocolate eyes. An obnoxiously smug smile. He nodded to a shadow by my IV stand. The shadow inserted a needle into the IV tube and depressed the plunger. Fire raged through my veins. I whimpered at first, but as the inferno blazed, it forced a scream from my throat. I closed my eyes against the searing heat.
“Emari! Wake up, baby. It’s just a dream. Wake up.” Mom patted my shoulder.
I bolted upright, ignoring the strain on my joints and muscles, and threw myself into her arms. “Mama!” She clutched me to her chest and rocked me like an infant.
“It’s okay, baby. I got you,” she murmured. A nurse dressed in smiley face scrubs rushed in. I had to hate her just on principle. Then, she plunged a syringe into my IV. Darkness enveloped me and shoved me under.
Chapter 24 Feathers
“Emi, honey. Can you hear me?” The voice stroked my soul. “She should be out of it by now,” it said to someone shuffling through the room. Someone harrumphed. “It’s been three days! How can he keep her under that long?” No answer. The weight beside me shifted and a warm hand stroked my face. “Emi? Come on baby. You gotta wake up now.”
I tried to protest—why is everybody calling me Baby—but my lips weren’t working. How odd. I wanted to touch my lips, to see why they failed me, but my hands were glued to the—whatever I was laying on. It felt like a cloud. A pink and purple fluffy cloud with a rainbow arcing over it and little tweeting birdies darting here and there.
“Emi. Come on honey. Open your eyes.” I screwed up my face in concentration but the tension squeezed my eyes shut tighter. “Come on baby, you can do it.”
I forced my eyes open a crack. “I’m…not…Baby!” But it sounded like baby talk. The hazy silhouette beside me leaned closer to my face. Two of the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen came into focus. Eyes so dark, so blue they were almost black.
“Hey baby.” Crinkles formed around the eyes. They were smiling.
“I’m……….not………Baby!” I finally forced out. A quiet chuckle answered me.
“Of course. No, you’re not. You’re my girl, my Emari Jewel,” he said.
“Yours?”
“Yes. Mine.”
“Don’t tell her that! She’ll wake up thinking she’s your slave or something,” protested somebody across the room. I didn’t like his voice.
“I’m a slave…or something?” I drawled.
“No, Sweets. You are a strong, independent woman. A powerful Caphar.”
“I’m a strong…powerful…car?” My brain was stuffed with cotton…or scouring pads…something that didn’t make it work right.
“I told you we shouldn’t have given her that Haldol, Sabre. She’s a mess. How long ‘til it’s out of her system?” The happy voice sounded mad.
“Don’t be mad,” I slurred and petted the warm hand on my arm. “Mad is bad. Mad isn’t good for you.”
“Good grief.” The hand left me and swept over the beautiful eyes.
“That makes me sad,” I pouted.
“What makes you sad, honey?”
“You made those beautiful eyes go away.”
He smiled down at me and the crinkles reappeared. That made me happy.
“Mad, bad, sad, glad. Hey that rhymes.” And I repeated the rhyme in a nonsensical singsong.
He made a rumbly, growly sound. “Go back to sleep, Em. Maybe you’ll be better when you wake up again .”
“Will you sleep with me?”
He chuckled again. I decided I liked that sound. “No, honey. Just go back to sleep.”
I sighed and slipped into the cotton candy cloud and listened to the little birds chirp me back to sleep.
*
“…four days, Sabre!”
“I can count, Nickolas! Human drugs don’t work the same on the Caphar mind. But what else were we supposed to do? Thomas had her so deep neither of us could touch her. At least we broke the link. Now we just have to wait until the meds leave her system.”
Four days? What did that mean? I wrestled with foggy memories, reached back in time to the ones that felt more solid and tangible. I remember…driving to Fourth of July Summit…the wind…my parent’s screams…Eddy was with me. My breath caught in my lungs and my chest convulsed. I bolted upright trying to capture my breath.
“Where’s Eddy?!”
Nick flew to my side and clasped my hands. “It’s okay, honey.”
“No…Eddy…where’s Eddy?”
“He’s here. He’s fine. Thomas didn’t touch him. It’s you we’ve been worried about.”
My breaths raced in and out. My muscles seized and twitched.
“Sabre, what’s happening to her?” Nick’s voice was tight and panicked.
“Probably just a side effect of the drug.”
“‘Just a side effect’? Look at her. She can’t even breathe.”
Sabre drifted to my side and placed his cool hand against my cheek. I nuzzled against his palm. The cool felt so good against my hot skin. “Relax, little one,” he cooed. Sabre cooed? “Relax. Slow your breathing. That’s it. In…and out.”
“Eddy…” I panted.
“Here, Em. He’s asleep by his crate. He’s fine,” Nick comforted.
“Where…” I cleared the frog from my throat. “Where did I go?”
Nick recounted the story of our experimental trip to the pass where my parents were killed. How we tested our abilities to cast a weave at a distance—broadcasting we’d called it. How he and Sabre dropped out of range a few miles away but were still able to receive my weaves. How all seemed well until my broadcasting came to violent halt, and they phased to the pass to find me unconscious in my car. I’d been in a coma of sorts for three days when desperation and Sabre’s damned experimentation took over and they tried the mind-altering drug Haldol on me. It broke the nightmare Thomas had woven me into, but had some nasty side effects: hallucinations and dyskinetic spasms. I hoped they would go away as soon as I phased a time or two.
“But, Eddy’s fine?”
“Yes, honey. Eddy’s absolutely perfect. You want to see him for yourself?” Nick offered and held out his hand to me.
I placed my shuddering hand in his, and wobbled to my feet. Slowly, gingerly, fighting the muscle spasms that rocked my body, we made our way across the bedroom to Eddy’s crate.
“He’s barely left your side this whole time,” Nick said as we gazed down at the snoozing pup. “Only when you came round a little a few hours ago did he finally leave the bed beside you and come take a nap.”
“Down. I want…” Nick gently lowered me to the floor beside my dog. My hand quaked as I reached to touch his soft head. Nick slid his fingers through mine and slowly placed my hand in Eddy’s fur. His fingers laced through mine had an anchoring effect, so I leaned against his chest and rested my head on his shoulder. The tension that held his body captive dissipated with a sigh. We sat like that for several long moments, silent, appreciating Eddy’s soft, warm fur and each other’s touch.
“You might feel better if you phase,” he suggested.
“Yeah…” And still we sat. Until my butt and legs went numb. “I think I’m ready, now.”
He nodded. “We’ll go together. Okay?”
I smiled because he put the ball in my court, gave me the opportunity to decline if I wanted. Though I thought he would argue if I did. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to.
*
The evening was inky blue with the last wisps of sunlight drifting lazily at the horizon. Nick and I sat on the porch side by side. Only nature’s concert broke the silence. Crickets chirruped a symphony, accompanied by bullfrogs down at the pond and the rustle of grasses and Ponderosa pines in the gentle wind. The air still held the warmth of the day, but night’s dark, cool fingers stroked our skin and ruffled our hair.
“Nick?” I said, just he was saying ‘Em?’ We laughed.
“You go,” he offered.
“Thanks.” But when I didn’t speak for a long while he fidgeted at my side. I didn’t know how to say what I wanted to say. To say it and mean it, and still somehow save face.
“Um…did I misunderstand?” he asked.
I huffed a small laugh and nudged him with my shoulder. “No. It’s just me.”
“Oh.”
I was quiet for a while longer, then finally drew in a bracing breath and began. “Nick, a lot of stuff has happened in the last year.” He snorted an ‘oh really?’ laugh. “You came into my life when I was a complete disaster. You put me back together again. Then turned my world upside down again. But I trusted you, without even knowing or understanding why, I trusted. And I know now that it was just part of my grieving—that I needed someone—and maybe I trusted you too easily. Even after the nightmares Thomas gave you—about—hurting me. Still, then, I trusted you.” His arm against mine turned rigid with stress. “And then, I found out the truth. That you already knew my mom and dad even before we met. And you didn’t tell me. I feel…I felt like you betrayed me and I couldn’t trust you ever again. In anger, I’ve fought against you, against everything you said. Simply for the fact that it was you saying it.” I dropped into silence again, wondering if I could truly make the words come out of my mouth, if I was brave enough to say them. Nick’s body was granite beside me and tiny quakes trembled through him. “I can’t, I won’t be lied to. I have to know I can trust the people I place around myself. Especially now.
“I know I’ve done and said some pretty awful things the last few weeks, especially to you. Like trying to kill you, twice.”
“Three times,” he choked out like all the air had evacuated his lungs.
“Okay, three times. Anyway—I guess I don’t believe in returning a wrong for wrong. You’ve begged for my forgiveness and I’ve been reluctant to give it to you. So—I want you to know—that I’m choosing to forgive you. I’m choosing to trust you. And—I’m asking you to forgive me for all the crap I’ve done to you. I’m sorry.” Nick was the one who taught me about choices, about whether to be a victim or a survivor, whether to live in the past, or the here and now.
