Early Spring 01 Broken Flower

by V. C. Andrews

  Nancy brought us oatmeal with raisins. There was a plate of buttered toast as well. She put everything on the table the exact way she always did. I even saw her glance at Grandmother Emma's chair as if Grandmother Emma was sitting there observing and making sure she was doing everything correctly. I could understand that. I often felt the same way when she wasn't where I expected her to be.

  "What time did my grandmother leave the house?" Ian asked.

  "I'm not sure," Nancy replied.

  "What time did she wake you up?" Ian pursued.

  "Between four-thirty and five o'clock. I'm sure she will call here soon," she added, and again made a quick exit to the kitchen.

  "I can't imagine why they would be on the road at that hour," Ian muttered, and started to eat.

  After we finished our breakfast, we remained downstairs in the living room. Ian got the idea to call the highway department to see if he could learn about any accidents in the vicinity of the route Daddy and Mama would have taken. He returned to the living room to tell me there was an accident discovered about ten-thirty that could very well have been theirs. His mind was already whirling with the possibilities and he looked at me angrily.

  "I bet Grandmother called them after she found me in your room. I bet that's why they left to come home," he said.

  It took my breath away. I was trembling as it was, just waiting to learn something. Had Mama been angry at me? Daddy? Was this somehow my fault?

  We heard a car approach the house and Ian jumped up to look through the window. "It's Felix," he said. "He's alone."

  We waited until he came to the door and rang the bell. Ian and I rushed out to greet him.

  "Your grandmother would like you both to come with me to the hospital," he said.

  Nancy stood waiting behind us. He and she exchanged a very serious look.

  "You don't need anything. You can come as you are," he added, and turned away.

  Ian started after him, stopped, and reached back for my hand. "Come on, Jordan," he said.

  Felix opened the rear door for us and we got in. As soon as he did, too. Ian started to ask questions.

  "I don't know everything," Felix said, almost sullenly. "I was just sent to get you. I'll get you there as fast as I can."

  Ian sat back. Frustration clouded his eyes. He seemed to shrink into a tight ball, fuming, while I could barely keep from crying.

  I should have gone to the bathroom first, too, but I was afraid to mention it. Ian, however, looked at me squirming and told Felix he had to find a place where I could go.

  "She should have gone before we left," Felix said, not hiding his annoyance. Perhaps Grandmother Emma would blame him for this short delay.

  "The world is full of 'should haves," Ian told him.

  He said nothing after that. We pulled into the parking lot of a diner and Ian walked me into it to go to the bathroom. Felix came in and bought some gum and a cup of coffee to go, and then we were off again.

  Na matter what Grandmother Emma believed, I thought, my brother always looks after me.

  She was waiting for us in the lobby. It wasn't until I saw her standing there speaking with a doctor that I came to understand and appreciate how much in control she could be even under great pressure. No matter what you thought of her, if you needed someone upon whom to rely and depend, she was that person.

  She saw us enter, but continued her

  conversation with the doctor. When she was finished, she turned to us. "Come with me," she said, and led us to an elevator.

  "How are they?" Ian asked as soon as we were alone with her.

  "Your father has seriously injured his spine. He will be paralyzed from the waist down," she said.

  I started to cry.

  "There's no time for that, Jordan. The damage is done and we have to deal with it," she said. "He also has a broken shoulder and a broken leg, a concussion, a broken nose, and a fractured cheekbone. He had a ruptured spleen and the spleen has been removed."

  "Removed?" I asked.

  "You can live without a spleen," Ian said. He looked dazed and a bit pale because of what she had said about Daddy. "You just have some added risk of infections."

  "Ian is right," Grandmother Emma said.

  The door opened and we stepped onto the floor that had the intensive care unit or ICU.

  "What about Mama?" I asked her.

  "Your mother miraculously did not suffer any broken bones, but she wasn't wearing her seat belt. Neither was your father for that matter, and she apparently struck her head either against the windshield or even on the metal roof. She is in a coma. The doctors are not sure yet what it means and they are continuing to evaluate her condition."

  "What's a coma?" I asked.

  It's like being asleep," she said.

  "Only you can't wake up," Ian added. "You could be in a coma for years and years. She probably has swelling and pressure and that's why she's in a coma."

  "Yes," Grandmother Emma said. "At the moment they are not sure how serious the damage is."

  We entered the ICU. Patients were on both sides with a nursing station in the center. Monitors of all sorts were going and two nurses were behind the counters while two others were attending to patients. Some of the patients were in the open, but many were in areas walled off by curtains the nurses pulled back. Both Mama and Daddy were behind these, side by side.

  "Your father's as good as in a coma as well at the moment," Grandmother Emma said. "He's been sedated because of the pain. You can try to talk to him. You can talk to your mother also, but she won't respond to anything. Even if you touch her," she added, looking at me.

  I glanced at Ian. His eyes were small and narrow and he was looking around the ICU. I was doing all I could not to cry since she had reprimanded me, but it was hard smothering my tears. We approached Daddy first and looked at him. His right arm was in a cast that went right over his shoulder. His left leg was in a cast. His face had all sorts of black and blue marks, red marks, and some bandages over his eves and around his ears. There was a tube inserted in his left forearm and there were wires on his chest. He moaned.

  "Does he know he won't be able to walk again?" Ian asked Grandmother Emma.

  "No," she said. Grandmother Emma looked at him more with a mother's disgust and annoyance than sadness. I thought.

  She looked at me and nodded at him, giving me permission to speak to him.

  "Don't tell him," Ian warned. I couldn't imagine doing that.

  "Daddy?" I said. "It's Jordan and Ian. How are you? Daddy?" He moaned again. His eyelids fluttered, but he didn't speak.

  "He's too out of it," Ian said, sounding grateful. "Let's look in on Mother."

  We stepped over to her bed. She had monitors wired to her as well, but her face was remarkably clear, not a scratch on it. She looked like she was only taking a nap. Her good appearance encouraged me. I reached for her hand quickly.

  "Mama, it's me. Mama, wake up. Please," I said, shaking her hand. It was so limp in mine. Her fingers didn't bend or move.

  "What are they doing for her?" Ian asked Grandmother Emma.

  "Evaluation. I told you. We might move her to a bigger, more complex hospital where there are specialists in this sort of thing. We'll know soon." she said.

  "Mama," I cried, and drew closer. I put my hand on her arm and then her shoulder. "Mama, it's me. Can't you wake up? Please, Mama." I shook her a little.

  "When people are in a coma," Ian said, "they don't respond to voices or light, smells, or touch. It's like their brains have shut down, Jordan."

  "No," I said. I didn't care how smart he was or what he knew. I wouldn't hear it. "Mama, we're here. Please wake up."

  "Don't raise your voice, Jordan," Grandmother Emma said. "There are other very sick people in here."

  "Mama," I cried, and put my forehead against her arm. She felt as warm as ever, but she didn't move. I finally started to cry, sobbing loudly.

  "We'll have to take her out," Grandmother Emma said. "Come
along, Jordan. You're not helping by doing that now. Come along," she insisted, and reached for me.

  I pulled my arm out of her hand and clung to Mama's arm.

  "NO!" I shouted at her.

  One of the nurses came to Grandmother Emma's side. "What is it?"

  "It's her daughter. I made a mistake bringing her in. I'm sorry."

  "Oh, that's all right," the nurse said in a sweet, soft voice. "Let me take care of it."

  "Ian," Grandmother Emma said, "we'll leave now."

  He looked at me and then turned and walked away with Grandmother Emma.

  The nurse stepped up beside me and put her hand on my head, softly petting me the way Mama often did.

  "It's all right," she said. "You shouldn't feel bad about crying. And you know, sometimes, even though they don't seem to respond, people in comas hear you. She knows you're here, sweetie, and she's trying to get better for you. You want to help her do that, right?"

  I nodded.

  "Well, you let us do what we have to do and take care of her for you and she'll act better. You know, there's a candy machine out in the hallway. Why don't we get you something nice? Later, you can return. Okay?"

  I looked at Mama. She hadn't moved. Her eves didn't open. Was the nurse right? Did she hear me? Did she know I was here?

  "Come on," the nurse urged me. "Lean over and kiss her cheek. Go ahead."

  I did and then I held my face close to Mama's and watched her eyes hopefully, but they didn't open.

  "It's all right," the nurse said. "She knows. Come on, sweetie."

  She took my hand and we walked out of the ICU. As she promised, she brought me right to the candy machine and asked me what I wanted. I chose a box of chocolate-covered peanuts because I knew they were Mama's favorite. I thought when I went back in to see her. I would tell her I had them and she would open her eyes and smile at me. The nurse bought it for me and then brought me down the hallway to the small waiting room where Grandmother Emma was on the phone and Ian was reading a magazine.

  I thanked the nurse. Grandmother Emma nodded and smiled at her and I sat next to Ian.

  "Mother's doctor just had Grandmother Emma paged,' he whispered. "She's on the phone with him now."

  I knew that meant something very important was to be told or happening.

  "Yes, I understand. You're absolutely correct. Please do make those arrangements," Grandmother Emma said. "Thank you.

  She hung up and looked thoughtful for a moment. "It will be some time before we learn the full extent of your mother's brain injuries," she began. "When she emerges from her coma, we will see what we will see and know what has to be done.

  "Until then, I'm having her moved to a hospital that specializes in this sort of thing and where there are well-known specialists in the field. A good friend of mine, Dr. Samuel Blakely, has made arrangements for your mother to be transferred to the Albert Einstein Medical Center in Philadelphia,"

  "When?" Ian asked quickly.

  "As soon as it can be arranged. Your father will remain here until he is stabilized and then he, too, will be moved to a hospital that specializes in his condition. He will be involved in a long recuperation that will involve therapy. There is much to be done and little time to waste now," she added.

  "When will we see Mama again?" I asked.

  "There is little point to seeing her until she emerges from the coma."

  She looked at her watch. "I'll let you go in again. Jordan, if you promise, swear, and cross your heart that you won't cry and act like a child when you're asked to leave. Well?"

  "I promise," I said quickly. "Ian?"

  He looked at me. "I'm not going in again," he said. "It doesn't make a difference right now. Grandmother Emma is right.'

  "No, she's not," I said, firmly disagreeing with him for the first time in a long time. "She can hear us. The nurse told me she could."

  He just shrugged.

  I got up quickly.

  "I'll speak with the nurse first," Grandmother Emma said.

  I followed her down the corridor to the door of the ICU. She told me to wait outside and she went in. I looked back and saw Ian standing with his hands in his pockets and gazing out the window. He turned as if he felt my eyes on him and looked at me. Then he looked out the window again.

  Grandmother Emma stepped out. "You have five minutes. Jordan, and then you must leave with me. Do you understand?'"

  I nodded.

  She opened the door and I walked in again. The nice nurse smiled at me and I smiled back. I looked in at Daddy. He was still moaning and moving his head softly, but his eyes were closed. I felt so sorry for him, especially since he didn't know how terrible things were for him. He looked like he had won a place forever in my worst nightmares.

  I took Mama's hand in mine as soon as I stepped up to her bed. "Mama. I'm back, but I can't stay here long. They're taking you to another hospital where they'll make you better faster. Grandmother Emma says I won't see you until you wake up. Please, try to wake up soon. I need to talk to you, okay?

  "I won't forget to take my medicine. I promise, but I need you to help me with other things as soon as you can. Okay?"

  I waited, hoping and praying she would open her eyes and smile at me and all would be better. Daddy would get better quickly, too, and everyone would forgive everyone else. I stroked her arm softly and kissed her hand and pressed my head against her upper arm and shoulder, and then I stroked her hair and whispered in her ear.

  "Please wake up, Mama. Please."

  Out of the corner of my eye. I saw the nice nurse starting toward me so I kissed Mama on the cheek. I thought a moment and kissed her again. "That's for Ian," I said. and squeezed her hand softly before I let go.

  I stood there staring at her face, but her lips didn't even tremble. Then, without being asked. I turned and started out and stopped when I

  remembered something.

  I hurried back, opened Mama's hand, and put the box of her favorite candy in it, closing her fingers around it.

  When I stepped out of the ICU. Ian was there in the hallway waiting by himself. Grandmother Emma was on the phone again in the waiting room.

  "Well?" he said. "I was right, right? She didn't wake up and she didn't know you were there.'

  "Maybe not, but I left her a box of her favorite candy."

  "She doesn't know she has it," he said.

  "Yes, she does."

  He shook his head at me with a look of pity on his face. "And then, I kissed her for you," I said.

  His arrogant, confident expression faded.

  And for a moment, he looked more like a little boy than my older brother.

  18 Too Old for a Nanny

  . Neither Ian nor I had any idea how much Grandmother Emma had already done and decided about us before we even had arrived at the hospital. Ian said she could easily have been a Nazi U-boat commander because she was so decisive and unemotional when she made a decision.

  "She must have been thinking about all this even while she was rushing to the hospital and especially when she learned about Father's and Mother's injuries,'" he told me afterward.

  Strangely enough, he didn't sound angry or critical about it. To me, he even seemed a little in awe of Grandmother Emma. Even though in his mind she was the cause of it all, his respect for her grew. She was all business and no nonsense, he told me, as if he were speaking about a superhero.

  I had already been thinking about her in a similar way. I knew she didn't care that much for Mama, but why wasn't she at least sadder about all that had happened to Daddy? Did she ever cry? Or did she do all her crying in secret, behind locked doors? Was it shameful or unladylike to shed tears in public about your own son's pain and trouble?

  On the other hand. Ian hadn't cried either. I thought, He was thinking and acting like another doctor and not like a son.

  Would he, too, cry in secret?

  Apparently, while we were on our way to the hospital, at the hospital, and returning back to the house
. Nancy had been very busy following Grandmother Emma's new orders. She moved everything of mine from my room to the room that had been Daddy's, the room right across from Grandmother Emma's bedroom. All my clothes, shoes, underwear, toiletries, toys, books, and games were transferred, as well as my school desk. Until we arrived at the house and walked in with her, Grandmother Emma didn't tell me and Ian what she had ordered Nancy to do.

  Nancy greeted us in the hallway.

  "Is everything done?" Grandmother Emma said before Nancy could ask about my parents.

  "Yes, Mrs. March."

  "Good." She turned to me. "Jordan," she said, "you will be living and sleeping in your father's old bedroom for now. Ian, you are to remain where you are and not come to that side of the house unless I specifically ask you to do so."

  Of course, I was totally surprised, as was Ian. I couldn't help feeling frightened and nervous about being uprooted like this, but I was also intrigued about being in Daddy's room and on Grandmother Emma's side of the house.

  Both Ian and I hurried up the stairs and looked in at my room. Even the bedding had been stripped and taken to Daddy's old bed. Apparently Nancy had turned the mattress because there in plain sight were the stains from my first period. The sight of the emptied room as well as that gave me a chilling feeling.

  "Holy schmnoly," Ian said. This was also when he called her a U-boat commander.

  "This way," Grandmother Emma called to me. She was standing at the head of the stairs, about midway down the hall, beckoning. "Don't dillydally. All of your things have been moved. Don't worry. We have much to do. You can go to your room, Ian."

  I looked at Ian. He lowered his head and walked to his own bedroom and shut the door.

  "Come along," Grandmother Emma said.

  I followed her down the corridor to her side of the mansion and paused at the open doorway to Daddy's old room. I looked in at my bedding, my desk, my toy chest, pictures on the walls, and other things.

  "Where are Daddy's things?" I asked.

  "Never mind about that. Go on," she said, urging me into the bedroom.

  Daddy's old bed was as big as mine, but it was made of a darker wood as were all the furnishings. The room itself was larger, but the windows looked out in the same direction as mine did. I knew Nancy cleaned the room periodically, but it smelled like she had just polished all the furniture, vacuumed, and washed the windows.