by Janette Oke
They were almost out to the large oak doors before Virginia remembered that she had not gathered any news concerning Jenny’s condition.
———
Even after consuming several cups of black coffee and a portion of his eggs and bacon, Mr. Woods was still in an emotional state. Virginia had never seen the hard man so unnerved. Pastor Black let him talk on and on, spilling out the facts about his troubled marriage, his departed wife, and his little girl. Now and then the pastor nodded in understanding or patted the man’s shaking shoulder. At length, when there seemed to be a bit of a lull, he stood to his feet.
“Why don’t you get a bit of rest,” he suggested, “while I slip over to the hospital and see what I can do about arranging for you to see Jenny?”
Mr. Woods seemed to consider the thought for a moment, and to Virginia’s surprise he nodded agreement.
“Where are you staying?” This from Pastor Black.
“Hadn’t bothered with a room yet.”
“Let’s find you one then.”
Shakily the man stood to his feet.
“Where’s your luggage?”
For a moment Mr. Woods looked surprised—then confused. Virginia could see that he was trying hard to remember.
“I think I left it over at the hospital or somewhere.”
It was plain he wasn’t too sure.
“I’ll check,” said the pastor.
Mr. Woods seemed quite content to let the younger man take over.
They did not drive far before Pastor Black stopped before a small hotel. It was not in the least elegant, but when they entered, Virginia noted that it was clean and comfortable in appearance.
The young pastor stepped to the desk and made arrangements for the room. “Why don’t you wait here,” he advised Virginia. “I’ll see him to his room and be right back.”
Virginia agreed and moved to find herself a seat. Her eyes traveled to the clock above the desk. It was now ten minutes past eleven, and she felt the day had already been a week long. She sighed, feeling very weary.
Thomas Black was soon back. “He was asleep almost as soon as he hit the bed,” he informed her. “I don’t suppose he has slept since he got word of the accident. By what he has said, he drank most of the way on the train, got a little confused, and wandered the streets on foot looking for the hospital. I imagine he curled up in a back alley somewhere last night.”
Virginia shook her head in pity rather than disgust.
“I’ve instructed the hotel staff to contact me when he makes an appearance. I think he’ll likely sleep for several hours. Let’s get back to the hospital and see how Jenny is doing.”
Virginia suddenly felt restored to life. She was most anxious—yet fearful—to get some news about her friend.
———
Jenny’s doctor recognized them immediately and drew them into a small waiting room.
The news was not good news. Jenny’s condition was still serious. She had not regained consciousness, and the doctor, who spoke gently, did not offer any false hope.
“In the circumstances, you may see her if you like, but be prepared,” Dr. Moore offered.
Virginia was confused. If they could see Jenny, why had they denied admission to her father?
“And as soon as her father sobers so we can trust him in the room, he can see her, as well,” the man went on. “We are most grateful to you for defusing a difficult situation,” he added. “We did not know how we were going to handle it—short of calling the police.”
Poor man, thought Virginia. I’m glad we saved him from that.
“Does Mr. Woods have a drinking problem?” The doctor turned to Virginia to ask directly.
Virginia swallowed, then nodded. It was true. She could not deny it. Yet she felt like a gossip.
“He . . . he drinks . . . quite heavily, so I’ve heard. But he . . . he seems to be able to still . . . function. He works hard . . . runs the local paper alone.”
The doctor nodded. “We’ll be prepared” was his comment.
“I’ll try to monitor him, Dr. Moore,” put in the pastor. “See that he gets back and forth in a sober state.”
“Thanks, Reverend.”
There was a moment of pause. The doctor stood to his feet and nodded his head toward a door down the hall. “Now, do you wish to see Miss Woods?”
Virginia took a deep breath. Yes, she wanted to see Jenny. But was she—could she—would she be able to endure the tragic sight that most surely awaited her beyond those closed doors? She felt the young minister take her arm and managed a brief nod. Yes, with him there for support, she would see Jenny.
“She is still unconscious,” the doctor was saying as they moved forward. “But as we don’t know too much about the unconscious state, we do ask that you try to control emotions. Talk to her, if you will. Tell her who you are. See if there is any response, but don’t expect any.”
He pushed open the door and stepped back to allow them to enter. Virginia’s eyes took in a maze of monitors and connecting wires and hospital paraphernalia that surrounded a high, narrow bed.
She stood silently, wooden, until a hand on her arm prompted her to move forward.
A figure lay on the bed, looking so small. So vulnerable. So still. But it certainly wasn’t Jenny. No, it can’t be Jenny, Virginia’s mind argued. Not this silent, wasted figure with all the tubes in her nose and mouth. Not this empty shell.
Virginia covered her mouth with her hand to keep from crying out. It was Jenny.
They had shaved off all her crown of red hair. In its place were a multitude of tubes and wires. Her face was so pale and battered it was hard to discern her features. One hand lay limp on the bed sheet beside her, as though it belonged to some strange rag doll. Virginia felt her knees go weak and thought she might have gone down had not kind hands been supporting her. She fought for control, scrunching her eyes tightly, praying for strength.
The faintness washed over her, departed. She paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and then stepped forward, taking the limp hand in both of her own. “Jenny,” she said softly. “Jenny, it’s Virginia. I’ve come. I’m here with you, Jenny.”
Her voice grew stronger. “Jenny, do you hear me? It’s Virginia. You’re going to be all right. We’re praying. All of us. Your father is here. He will be in to see you . . . soon.”
There was no response.
Virginia gave the hand she held a squeeze. She wanted to wake her friend. To make her take notice. She wanted to force Jenny to determine to make it through this terrible accident. “Jenny,” she said again, too loudly. She felt the young minister’s hand tighten on her arm.
Virginia fought for control. In a voice that was calmer, she continued. “I’m going to come see you every day, Jenny. I’ll be here. We need you to wake up. We need to fight this. Do you hear me? Fight.”
Jenny had always been a fighter. It seemed strange to be bidding her to fight now. But Virginia repeated the order again, with a little shake to the limp hand. “Fight, Jenny.”
There was nothing but the quiet hum of hospital machines.
Silently Virginia turned to go. There seemed to be little else to do.
———
Pastor Black drove her back home. It was a silent trip.
“Try to get some rest,” he encouraged after she tried hard to swallow some of his mother’s lunch. She was sure that the food was delicious, but she had no appetite.
Virginia nodded. She would try to rest. She felt drained. Maybe she should not have come. There was nothing she could do for Jenny. She knew that now. A miracle was needed for Jenny, and only God could perform a miracle.
“I’m going to the church to take care of some things, then I’ll check on Mr. Woods.”
Ah yes. Mr. Woods. What had her father said? Jenny’s father might need you. Jenny’s father? That drunken, ravaged man? Did he need her? It seemed Mr. Woods’ only need was his bottle.
Then Virginia felt guilt wash over her for su
ch thoughts. She’d had a glimpse of a far different man than the blustering, profane man she had known in their small town. She had seen a grieving father. A broken spirit. Sobbing uncontrollably over a beloved daughter in grave danger.
Virginia had never seen that side of Mr. Woods before. She wondered if Jenny ever had. Mr. Woods did need someone through the difficult hours ahead, she decided. But Virginia was unsure if she was equal to the task.
She looked directly into the eyes of the young minister who stood before her, and she felt a deep thankfulness for his presence, his understanding.
Whatever would she have done without him? Her father had been so right to secure some help in this strange city.
She nodded again. She would try to get some rest.
———
A soft rap on the door awakened Virginia. She pulled herself up to a sitting position, struggling to remember where she was and why. Swiftly it came back to her. She passed a hand over her hair to smooth the tangles and called, “Yes?”
Mrs. Black answered, “Tommy is here, my dear. He has Mr. Woods with him.”
Virginia quickly stood to her feet. “I’ll be right down.”
It did not take Virginia long to pass a comb through her hair and repin it. Her face looked flushed from sleeping, and her dress, which she foolishly had not removed, was wrinkled. She had not expected to be able to sleep. She looked down at her skirt now, impatiently trying to smooth it with her hands.
From the lower floor of the house, voices drifted up to greet her. She made her way down the stairs toward the sound and found Pastor Black and Mr. Woods seated in two chairs pulled up beside the fireplace. Though no fire burned, the room seemed to carry a warmth all its own.
Virginia could not believe the difference in Jenny’s father. Though his face had high color and his nose still bore a shine, his eyes looked quite clear, his posture erect. The young pastor had done a good job of keeping the man sober.
“Good afternoon,” Virginia greeted them both, and the two gentlemen, as one, rose to their feet.
“Were you able to rest?” the pastor asked.
Virginia admitted, with a bit of embarrassment, that she was, then turned her eyes to Mr. Woods. He still studied her, as though he could not believe she was really there.
“Have you been to see Jenny yet?” Virginia asked.
“No.” He shook his head, his eyes misting. Virginia hoped she had not asked the wrong question. She did not want him to lose control again.
“We thought it best to go over together,” Pastor Black put it.
“Yes,” agreed Jenny’s father with a nod of his head, then added with a plea in his voice, “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” Virginia was still in awe of the changed demeanor of the man. The big man turned to the pastor. “Virginia is my Jenny’s best friend.”
“So I understand,” nodded the younger man.
“She’s been a good influence on my girl. Even takes her to church.”
Virginia was astonished. Mr. Woods had never even hinted at any appreciation for the fact she had coaxed Jenny into attending church on occasion.
The younger man just nodded.
“Tea is ready,” Mrs. Black announced from the door. “Do you want it served in here, or in the dining parlor?”
“Why don’t we just have it in the coziness of the kitchen, Mother?” suggested the young man easily. She looked about to object but closed her mouth.
“We’re in rather a hurry to get back to the hospital,” he added as they made their way toward the kitchen.
Mr. Woods nodded, his face very serious. Virginia wondered if he was the least bit interested in tea.
CHAPTER 14
Virginia braced herself once again as the little group moved down the hallway and toward Jenny’s closed door. They had been granted permission to enter by Dr. Moore, who seemed tremendously relieved to see Mr. Woods in a sober state.
Virginia was concerned that Jenny’s father would take one look at his daughter and head back to the bottle.
The situation had not changed. A nurse moved about, changing tubes and checking the IV drip. She gave a curt nod when they entered, finished what she was doing, and stepped away from the bed.
Mr. Woods moved forward slowly. He was almost to the bedside before Virginia realized that he had her in tow, his strong grip hurting her arm.
Understanding his need, she did not attempt to pull her arm free. She waited silently while he studied every part of the scene before him—the limp form, the bandages, the medical equipment—then took Jenny’s pale hand, much as she herself had done earlier.
His eyes filled with tears but he did not speak. Virginia wondered if father and daughter had been on strained terms for so long that he had forgotten how to commune with his little girl.
He bent over the bed and raised the unresisting hand to his face, rubbing it back and forth against his newly shaven cheek. Then he put the hand back down with touching gentleness, patted it, and turned to go. Virginia knew that for the present his father-heart was too overcome with emotion to stay any longer.
———
They agreed that Mr. Woods would be picked up again the next day for the visit to the hospital. Virginia knew that the pastor had a morning sermon to deliver, so it would be after the noon meal before they would be making the connection. She fretted that this gave Mr. Woods far too much time to nurse his grief with another bottle.
She rode to the church with Pastor Black and his mother. It was not a large congregation that gathered—rather the size of Virginia’s own group back home. But they were friendly as they welcomed her to the morning service, though Virginia did notice many curious eyes.
“We wish to welcome Miss Simpson, who is with us this morning,” the minister said from the pulpit by way of introduction, “though we deeply regret the circumstances for her visiting our city at this time. It was one of Miss Simpson’s close friends who was involved in the motor accident of university students this past week. I want to urge you to remember Jenny Woods and her father, who is also here in our city, in your prayers throughout the week. I’m sure Miss Simpson would appreciate your prayers, as well.” He went on to other announcements. Virginia could feel many eyes upon her with new warmth, a new understanding in their faces.
Virginia soon put aside her concerns a few minutes into the sermon. Pastor Black’s sermon for the morning was taken from a psalm. Virginia had not caught the reference when it had been given, but he had not spoken many sentences until her attention was completely captured. “We often feel we are all alone when going through adversity,” he reminded the audience. “We are not. God has promised to be there with us. He does not make promises lightly, nor does He disregard them once they have been made.
“How do you think Joseph felt, trudging through the heat of the desert, his colorful coat gone, his hands tied, feet shackled, as he was forced to accompany the Midianites who had purchased him from his evil brothers?
“How do you think Daniel felt as rough hands picked him up and suspended him momentarily over the mouth of the pit, from which came the muffled roar of hungry lions?
“Or the three young Israelite men as brutish soldiers forced their hands to their sides and bound them securely, a wall of angry flames awaiting them only a few feet away?
“What about Paul the apostle? Ridiculed and beaten. Driven from town to town or chained in dank, rat-infested dungeons? Did he—did they—remind themselves of God’s sure promises? Or did they simply give up and give in?”
Of course they didn’t, Virginia’s own heart responded, and in the moments ahead the pastor took them through the pages of Scripture to remind them of how each of the individuals had responded to their plight.
Virginia felt strengthened and encouraged as she followed Mrs. Black from the pew. She wished that Jenny’s father had been able—and willing—to hear the Sunday sermon.
———
The following days seemed to blend int
o one long tiring routine. Much to Virginia’s surprise, Jenny’s father stayed sober. Virginia often smelled liquor on his breath and knew that he had been imbibing, but he did not seem to overindulge to the point of losing control.
Each day Pastor Black and Virginia stopped at the hotel to pick up Mr. Woods, then proceeded to the hospital. Knowing that the pastor’s days were filled with his own responsibilities, Virginia had insisted that he drop them off and call for them later. After a short argument he agreed.
It seemed to Virginia that nearly as much of their day was spent pacing the hall, or walking city streets to find a small diner, as it was sitting beside the unconscious Jenny. Each time they returned to the stark hospital room, they pleaded with Jenny to open her eyes, but there seemed to be nothing they could do to coax a response from the critically injured girl.
On the third day Virginia borrowed a copy of The Pilgrim’s Progress from Mrs. Black and began to read aloud as they sat by Jenny’s bed. She read for an hour in the morning and another hour in the afternoon, hoping that the sound of her voice would assure Jenny, even in her unconscious state, that she was not alone.
She watched for the flicker of an eyelid or the twitch of a hand, but she saw nothing. Jenny seemed totally unaware of their presence. And certainly the waning form was not listening to the tale of Pilgrim’s journey. Still Virginia continued to read. She was on the fifth chapter before she noticed that Mr. Woods was listening. It both surprised and pleased her. From then on she read the story with clearer enunciation and a prayerful new purpose.
———
The week was drawing to a close with no visible change in Jenny’s condition. Virginia was troubled and anxious. In two short days her return ticket required that she board the train for home. She had been given one week away from the post office. She did not think she could ask her new employer for more.
On their way to a nearby diner that had quickly become their favorite place for a sandwich, Virginia brought up the subject with Mr. Woods. “My ticket is for Saturday’s train.”
