“Can they cure it?”
“There is no medication. She is receiving intravenous antibiotics to ward off infection, but the only hope for a cure is a bone marrow transplant— or a miracle. The best donors are brothers or sisters, and as you know, Jo has neither.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Edwards.”
“Call me Carol, Renny. I know you are, but Jo is not giving up and neither should the rest of us.”
“When can I see her?”
“I asked the doctor, and he said no one except hospital staff can come in her room until tomorrow morning. They want to make sure she doesn’t have a latent infection. If she doesn’t have a fever in the morning, I think you will be able to see her for a few minutes.”
Renny put his face in his hands. Looking up, he asked, “What time should I be here?”
“I’m coming at seven, so I would say about seven-thirty.”
“Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Jo’s mother looked at Renny, and two fresh tears streaked down her cheeks. “Pray,” she said, her voice trembling, “pray that my daughter won’t die.”
Renny checked into a hotel near the hospital. As soon as he was in his room he called Mrs. Stokes. “It’s bad. She has a blood disorder that could kill her, something called aplastic anemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant.”
“Or a miracle,” Mrs. Stokes replied.
“That’s what her mother said, too.”
“Have you seen her yet?”
“No, she’s in isolation, but I may get to visit her in the morning.”
“Give her my love, and tell her the Lord is helping me fight for her. I’m also going to call two friends and ask them to begin praying.”
Renny hung up the phone and began pacing back and forth in the room. He had never prayed for more than a few minutes and had no idea what to say. Talking out loud, he said, “God, what am I supposed to do? I’m not Mrs. Stokes. I’ve not been a missionary for forty years.” He walked from the air conditioner, past the TV, to the bathroom door, and back again. What could he do?
Several minutes passed. Then he remembered what he told Jo on the mountain: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” That was it! That was his direction in prayer. He hadn’t brought a Bible with him, but finding a Gideon’s Bible in the nightstand by the bed, he turned to Psalm 23 and started reading it out loud from beginning to end as he walked. Once, twice, three times. He kept reading it until he had it memorized. Then he quoted it over and over. Different phrases rang through his spirit. He said it softly; he said it as loudly as he dared. It was all for Jo, every word, syllable, and promise. As it grew late and stress and fatigue set in, he took a sheet of hotel stationery and wrote it out:
To Jo:
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
When his head touched the pillow, he finally said, “Amen.”
He arrived at the hospital early the next morning. Carol Edwards was waiting for him outside the quarantine area.
“The blood transfusions are helping, and she’s feeling better this morning. She’s anxious to see you, so I asked one of the nurses to prep you as soon as she has a minute.”
The door opened, and a nurse in her thirties with brown wavy hair, angular features, large brown eyes, and a determined set to her square jaw motioned for Renny and Carol to come inside.
“Renny, this is Anne Bailey, a nurse in this unit. She and Jo are friends here at the hospital. They also attend the same church.”
Anne nodded in greeting. “It’s good to meet you. I spent last night with Jo and heard her mention your name in her sleep.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing I could decipher. She was somewhat delirious until the fever broke.”
“And now?” Renny asked.
“Better, but before you see her I need to tell you the guidelines. Do you have a cold or any other sickness?”
“No.”
“You will need to wash up and wear a gown, gloves, mask, and hat. I have a set ready for you by the sink in this bathroom.”
Renny suited up.
As they walked down the hall to Jo’s room, Anne said, “Don’t touch her or take off the mask, please. It’s critically important that she not be exposed to anything infectious.”
“I understand.”
“Carol and I will wait outside while you go in. Here’s her room.”
Renny knocked lightly and pushed open the door. “Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning. Thanks for coming.” Jo was propped up in the bed with the tray of breakfast food in front of her. Her skin was so pale and white that it made her blue eyes shine even brighter. “Can I offer you some barbecue?”
“I can’t eat it this early in the morning.” Renny smiled. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
Renny approached the bed. “Is this too close?”
“It’s not close enough. Take one more giant step.”
“I’d better not. Your guardian angel Anne warned me against close contact.”
“We’d better obey her; she’s been great,” Jo said. “She spent all last night with me.”
“I’ve got something for you.” Renny took the sheet of motel stationery out of his pocket. “I prayed this for you and wrote it out last night at the hotel.” He handed it to Jo.
“From the mountain.” Jo nodded. “I’d forgotten.”
“Me, too, until I asked the Lord what to pray for you.”
“This is good, Renny. This gives me more hope.” She sighed. “Thank you.”
Renny wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until every atom of illness was driven from her body by the power of his love. But all he could do was say, “You’re welcome.”
“Tell me about Georgetown. Did things go as you’d hoped?”
Renny shook his head. “No. You were right. It was a waste of time. I shouldn’t have gone.”
“Are you OK?”
Before Renny could answer, Anne poked her head in the room. “Time’s up.”
“But he just got here,” Jo said.
“And he’s about to leave. You have more platelets coming. He can come back this evening.”
“And stay longer,” Jo said.
“Yes, I think that can be arranged.” Anne’s features softened when she smiled.
“See you later,” Renny said. “Mrs. Stokes sends her love. She’s praying.”
“Good.” Jo’s eyes flickered. “I guess I’m more tired than I realized.”
Renny went out into the hall, where Anne was talking to Carol.
“You can see the difference the transfusions make. She is totally different from yesterday.”
“Do they have a permanent effect?” Carol asked.
“No. The patients usually experience peaks and valleys as the levels of red cells and platelets fluctuate. We need to do a platelet transfusion this morning because they only live in the body for a few days. The red cells can survive a month or more once she’s stable. But what we need”—Anne’s jaw grew more determined—“is for her body to begin producing cells on its own in the bone marrow.”
“We need a miracle,” Renny and Carol both said at the same time.
Anne nodded grimly. “You’re right.”
Empty breakfast trays on the glass table in front of them, the three men were enjoying the ocean breeze on the veranda. The youngest spoke. “So, Jacobson flew the coop?”
“Yes. It’s tough being the
only chicken in a house full of foxes.”
“Will he be back?”
“He’ll be back.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“You know better than to question me. He’s drawn to the power, and it will call him back after his emotions cool and wounded feelings heal. He needs to be crushed so that we can rebuild him. He will be a strong one. You’ll see.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Have I ever been wrong?”
27
Curses, not loud but deep … which the
poor heart fain deny, and dare not.
MACBETH, ACT 5, SCENE 3
Where did you spend the night?” Carol asked Renny as they took off their scrubs. “I should have asked you to stay at our house, but with all that’s happened, I wasn’t thinking.”
“That’s OK. I stayed at the Ramada since it’s close to the hospital.”
“Can you check out and come over now?”
“Yes, but I need to call my office around nine.”
“Let’s go by the hotel, and you can follow me from there to the house. We’ll be home before nine.”
After stopping by the hotel, Renny followed Carol’s blue Buick along several streets that skirted the campus of Michigan State. East Lansing was a true college town; everything revolved around the university. With the recent return of students for the fall semester, the campus was a beehive of activity. Bike riders, joggers, and students carrying books crowded the corners at every traffic light. Dry cleaners, restaurants, and clothing stores all catered to Spartan green.
Leaving the area adjacent to the campus, they passed through neighborhoods where the houses were older and smaller than in newer cities like Charlotte. Renny liked the cozy academic feel of the narrow residential streets that spread out on the north side of the university. The houses exuded what Renny’s mother had called personality, an individual style that occasionally matched the character of the occupants. He guessed that one house was the home of a botany professor and another the dwelling of an English literature teacher.
Jo and her mother lived in a small, two-story, brick Cape Cod with a manicured front yard and an expanse of natural woods surrounding it on three sides.
“It’s designed for birds, not gardeners,” Carol said as she unlocked the door. “You can use the phone in the kitchen.”
He called his office. Fortunately, he didn’t have any appointments scheduled and his office work could simply pile up on his desk. Mr. Heywood was in a partners’ meeting, and Renny left word that he was in Michigan because of a medical emergency involving a close friend.
By the time he hung up, Carol had a fresh pot of coffee ready.
“How would you like it?” she asked.
“Milk and sugar, please.”
She led him into the living room and offered him a seat on a mauve-and-cream-colored sofa that faced a picture window overlooking the backyard. Renny immediately noticed two pictures of Jo on the wall. One was an oil portrait painted when she was about six and the other a formal photograph from her high school graduation. He could see the sparkle in her eyes at age six; she really hadn’t changed very much.
Carol noticed Renny’s interest in the pictures. “Would you like to see some photos of Jo’s growing-up years?”
“Would that be OK with you?”
“I need to focus on happier times myself. Let me get a couple of albums.”
They sat next to each other on the couch. She began with the naked baby pictures and walked him through diapers, swing sets, bike rides, birthday parties, and early school days. There were even a few pictures of Jo’s father. Renny could see the depression that sat on his features. He started to comment but stopped.
“Tell me a story from her life during this time.”
Carol thought a moment. “Well, when she was three, I used to rock her every night before putting her to bed. She would curl up in my lap with her favorite blanket, her ‘B’ she called it, and suck her thumb. Children love repetition, and I would sing the same song to her several times each night. Then I’d ask her, ‘Do you know Mommy loves you?’ and wait for her to say yes. One night I took the question a step further. When she said yes, I asked her, ‘Why does Mommy love you?’ She was quiet for a moment, took her thumb out and said, ‘’Cause,’ and popped her thumb back in its place. It was the most profound statement of the why of love I’d ever heard. She knew I loved her not for what she did or didn’t do or for what she could give me or do for me, but for the simple fact that she was my daughter. It made me understand the love of God for us.”
“Like John 3:16?”
“Yes, but at a personal, intimate level. And that’s Jo. Since she was a little girl, she has always had the ability to show others the nature of real love.” Carol started crying quietly and took a tissue from a box on the coffee table. “It’s OK for me to cry like this. I’m not sad; I’m glad for her life and her influence on me and others. I know she’s touched you, and you’ll never be the same.”
Renny didn’t trust himself to speak, so they sat in silence until Carol regained her composure. “Come with me. I’ll let you see Jo’s room.”
She led Renny down a short hallway to a corner bedroom. It was decorated in white with a border of bright, cheerful flowers and matching trim around the windows. To allow the most light possible, Jo had chosen shutters instead of curtains. When Renny and her mother entered the room, the shutters were open and the room was almost startling in its brightness. The Star of David Mrs. Stokes had given her hung by a string in front of a windowpane. There were two closets. The larger was filled with clothes and shoes, the smaller with boxes, books, and albums.
“These will give you a more complete glimpse into her life. I know she wouldn’t mind you looking through them. If you’ll excuse me, I need to be alone for a while.”
“Jo won’t care?”
“No. I know how she feels about you, Renny.”
Renny sat on the floor and pulled out the nearest box. It contained papers from a high school English class. One assignment required the students to describe an embarrassing incident in their life. Jo wrote about the first time she drove alone in her mother’s car. She turned the wrong way down a one-way street and ended up stopping in the middle of the road when she came face to face with a local policeman’s vehicle.
There were awards, projects, poems, letters to her mother, and more pictures, including two framed photos of Jo with her dates to the junior and senior proms. Both of the guys looked taller than Renny. Too tall for Jo.
Renny read almost every word and examined every piece of memorabilia. In a way, he enjoyed himself, but he also felt moments of sadness because she was not with him to enrich his discoveries. By the time he stretched and stood up, it was lunchtime.
Going out to the kitchen, he found Carol looking in the refrigerator.
“Not much to pick from,” she said.
“May I take you out for something?” Renny offered. “We could eat on our way to the hospital.”
“That sounds like a good idea. I called a little while ago, and the nurse on duty said we could see Jo earlier than we thought.”
“How was she?”
“‘Stable’ was the word she used.”
“Let’s go somewhere you and Jo like,” Renny said.
“That’s easy. There’s a small Japanese place not far from the hospital.”
The restaurant was not ornate, but Renny quickly discovered why they enjoyed it. The two cooks prepared fried rice, vegetables, fresh meats, and seafood on large griddles in front of the customers. While they were working, the cooks juggled the cooking utensils and carried on a light banter with the patrons.
“Jo loves anything with a teriyaki flavor,” Carol said between mouthfuls of steaming fried rice.
“I bet she uses chopsticks.”
“Yep, down to the last grain of rice.”
“I wish we could take a meal to her.”
“I’ll check the hospital gu
idelines for bringing her food from outside. I know she would love to have some.”
At the hospital, Carol went first while Renny sat in the waiting room near the elevator. After about fifteen minutes, she came out, and Renny washed his hands and put on the protective gear.
There was a little more color in Jo’s cheeks than the night before.
“Mom said you two have been at the house since this morning,” she said.
“Yes, she showed me some naked baby pictures and told me an interesting incident or two from your childhood.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I want to buy you a new blanket.”
Jo laughed weakly. “I still have my B. Did you see it? It’s in a plastic bag in the closet.”
“No, but I enjoyed going through your keepsakes. I hope it was OK for me to learn all your secrets.”
“Now that you’ve found out about my thumbsucking, I have nothing else to hide.”
“Everyone should be so pure.” Renny resisted the urge to reach out and hold her hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired and weak. My hip hurts where they did the bone marrow biopsy.”
Renny noticed some red dots on Jo’s arms. “What are those spots?”
“They’re called petechiae, caused by bleeding under the skin due to my low platelet count. They developed before I received the transfusion last night.”
“Do they hurt?”
“No. It’s like a little bruise, but there’s no pain. Now, tell me about Georgetown. What happened?”
“OK.” Renny sighed. “If I know about your thumb, you have a right to know about my foibles. I’ll begin at the end.” Renny told her about the sting operation orchestrated by the members of the List and the consequences of his failure to pass the loyalty test. “From our lunch in Charlotte to the meeting in Georgetown, Layne played his role like a Shakespearean actor. I never suspected anything.”
“What about the probation idea? Are you going to stay with it?”
“I’ve probably broken probation already since I’m AWOL from the inn. After leaving the meeting with my tail between my legs, the old desk clerk gave me an envelope by mistake. It contained a memo from Roget to LaRochette with a general summary of everyone’s financial information. They have already transferred the money from your family’s account and Bart Maxwell’s account. It looks like it landed with LaRochette and Roget.”
The List Page 31
