Sleeping Roses

by RaShelle Workman

  He wasn’t waiting for an answer, obviously back in his own demented, little world. He bent down, brushed the hair out of her face, and kissed her softly on the forehead. She tried to plead with him with her eyes but he only smiled.

  “Good-bye Sophie.”

  He got up and walked away. Guessing from the sounds she heard, he did what he said he would. Mixed the cement, sloshing it onto the brick, wiping it with the trowel, and placing it on top of another.

  It’s really over, she thought, wondering what death would be like. It can’t hurt worse than this, can it?

  #

  He slapped her with such force, she cried out, through the tape, “Stop it!”

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked angrily, ripping the tape off her mouth. “There’s blood all over the floor.”

  “Afraid I might not survive long enough to see myself bricked in?” she whispered fiercely, although weakly.

  “Yes, as a matter a fact, I am. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

  She had no idea what was wrong, nor had she realized she bled. Her body was numb, as though she were detached from it. She felt no pain.

  I’m going to die, she thought.

  She realized she should be angry, devastated, or worse. Instead, only peace. Almost reverently, she whispered, “It’s too late, David. You’ve already killed our baby and me. I hope you . . .”

  She realized she’d stopped talking to him and wondered if she died or was unconscious again. Strangely, this time, though, she knew she was unconscious. She heard David slapping her face again and again. She knew he walked away and came back again, this time shaking her body, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t allow herself to wake up. She knew these were her thoughts, knew somehow inside her body, her mind was awake and alert.

  This must be the end, she thought, almost happily. Still, though, for her daughter’s sake, she wasn’t ready to give up.

  She tried to open her eyes, but they didn’t respond. She tried to scream, but nothing came out.

  Calm down, she told herself. Maybe this is meant to be.

  She decided, instead, to focus on her baby.

  “Dear, sweet baby girl,” she cried, in her mind. “Please forgive me. Somehow I hope you know I’ve loved you from the moment I knew you were a part of me. I wish I could’ve met you.”

  Chapter 21

  “Charge to three hundred! Hurry, we can’t lose her.”

  “Charged to three-hundred, doctor!”

  “Clear!”

  “Clear.”

  Her body shook from the jolt of electricity hitting her body. She knew it should’ve hurt, but it didn’t. Activity rushed all around her and wondered what was going on.

  “Okay, doctor, she has a pulse.”

  “Good, let’s keep it strong. I want to know what happened. She’s been catatonic for such a long time. I want to know what’s changed. See if she’s got an infection.”

  “Yes, doctor.”

  “Hope,” he continued, “I want blood work done on her. Let’s go. You all know what to do.”

  Sophie listened intently to him bark out his orders. She knew her body was touched, poked and prodded because she could feel the pressure.

  It doesn't make sense, she thought.

  “Has someone called her parents? They ought to know what’s happened,” she heard a woman say kindly.

  After several more minutes, she sensed more than heard them all leave the room. Slowly she tried to open her eyes, but couldn’t. She tried to sit up. Nothing happened.

  She tried to yell, with all her might, “Help! Please help me!” To her, it seemed like she had, but no one came. She felt like a prisoner trapped inside her own body.

  What’s wrong with me? She wondered helplessly.

  She decided, finally, to relax her mind, letting herself begin to drift off to sleep, when she remembered what David had been trying to do to her.

  “My baby,” she yelled, and this time she heard it with every fiber of her being. Now, she knew, she was awake. Immediately, she realized her body seemed strange, heavy.

  David must’ve really hurt me, she pondered nervously, slowly opening her eyes. She squinted, in an effort to see, but her eyes were blurry. After a few tries, they began to clear up.

  She lay flat on her back with a perfect view of the shabby ceiling. It was one of those corkboard ceilings, covered with tiny holes that, she guessed, at one time, had been painted white. Moving her eyes to the left, she saw a sink. Next to it, awkwardly sat several huge machines, with a surplus of switches.

  What’s it all for, she wondered, continuing the inspection of her surroundings.

  Directly across from her was a wall covered in opened windows. A slight breeze ruffled the cream curtains. With them drawn, the natural light consumed the room, warming her at once. Like the craving some people have for chocolate, she ached for the beauty outside.

  Majestically, the mountains stood before her. An overwhelming feeling of joy, at being alive, pressed on her. The mountains were full of color, greens, yellows, oranges and reds, singing out in unity, fall had arrived.

  He may have hurt me, she thought, but somehow I survived. Somehow, I got out of there before he was able to finish what he started.

  "We’re safe baby-girl," she cried happily, reaching down to put her hand on her ever growing belly.

  Undeniable pain swept over her, for she realized her stomach was flat. Then it dawned on her, when David had taken her there’d been no leaves on the trees. They’d all fallen, leaving the trees bare, in preparation for a long, cold winter. She looked out the window again.

  It’s definitely Fall, she thought.

  "How long have I been here?" she whispered, wondering what’d become of her baby. She needed to talk to someone, now, before her heart literally broke with the pain she had at not knowing where her baby was. She moved her head again, looking in vain for the call button that usually came with a hospital bed, but she couldn't find it.

  Finally, with tears of frustration streaming down her cheeks and into her ears, she cried, “Someone, please help me!” She’d meant for it to be loud. Instead, though, she sounded hoarse. Clearing it, she tried again, “Help me, please!” It was better, she thought, but still no one came.

  “I need help,” she shouted.

  As a woman walked in, she took a deep breath, saying, “Thank goodness you heard me. I’m having a hard time moving, so I know something is wrong, but first and foremost I need to know what’s happened to my baby. Is she . . .” Sophie stopped because of the look on the woman's face.

  If she didn’t know any better, she’d think the woman had seen a ghost. Her eyes looked shocked and amazed, but the strangest and probably most frustrating thing was the woman smiled.

  Anxiously, Sophie asked, “Why are you smiling? Is my baby okay?”

  The woman walked over, took her pulse, turned and looked at the machine standing menacingly next to the bed. Once she'd fiddled with it, she took her temperature, all without saying a word.

  Sophie tried to be patient, understanding the woman was doing her job, but she’d asked an important question and needed an answer. “Did you hear me? Where . . .”

  “Yes, dear, I heard you,” she began, her voice shaking slightly. “Can you give me just a minute? I need to get the doctor.”

  She was at the door when she stopped suddenly, seeming to regret her decision. She stood there a moment, as if frozen in place, before she turned to Sophie, uttering,

  “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be all right.”

  Without another word, she was gone.

  “Okay,” she replied to the empty room.

  #

  When he entered the room, Sophie unwittingly gasped. It wasn’t necessarily because of his looks, although he was exceedingly handsome, but it was the presence he brought with him, as though she knew him.

  Ridiculous, she thought. I’ve never seen this man before. Still, the sensation was undeniable.

  Behind
him was a plethora of people. All of them looked like they belonged in the medical field, and she wondered what they were doing in her room.

  He walked purposefully over to her, saying, “Sophie, I’m Dr. Hansen. Sorry about the flock behind me, it’s only . . .” He paused, obviously trying to carefully choose his words. “I . . . We’re all excited you’re awake and alert. We hoped this day would come. At the same time, however, we’re surprised.” He paused again, as though he hoped she understood what he meant, but just as quickly, he shook his head, and went on.

  “You see Sophie, you’re what some, well, no, most of the medical profession would call a miracle.” He turned and pointed toward the throng behind him.

  “These men and women are here to see you for themselves, to document this amazing day.”

  His eyes begged her to understand, but she didn’t. Obviously something terrible has happened to me, she thought, but I need to find out what’s happened to my daughter. Speaking clearly, she began, “I need to know what’s happened to my baby. I was . . .” She stopped, flabbergasted. Dr. Hansen had turned away from her, whispering to the mass of people behind him. Frustrated, she decided to try a different approach. “I can barely move. What’s wrong with me?”

  Dr. Hansen turned around, responding with a chuckle. “I’m surprised you can move at all.” He put his hand in hers, and said, “Can you squeeze my hand?”

  She did her best, watching his kind eyes.

  In response, he nodded, turning back to the others, talking again to them.

  Rude, she thought, feeling peeved.

  “Hey, is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” She tried her best to sound upset, but her voice wouldn’t cooperate. It still sounded weak. She continued, however, “Where’s my baby? Has anyone found David? You know he tried to kill me. Why aren’t the police here?”

  Dr. Hansen whipped his head back around, asking, “What did you say? You know about David?”

  Anger flashed through her, giving strength to her voice.

  “Of course I do. I was married to the man for two years.” She noticed the bewilderment on his face as well as the others and wondered why they were all looking at her as if she’d spoken something prohibited. “What? What did I say? What’s wrong?”

  Quickly, he came to her, putting a hand to her forehead, checking her pulse.

  “She's feverish,” he said, speaking to a woman who stood next to him. She was the nurse who’d come in when she’d yelled. “Hope, take her temperature and give her something to keep her calm. We don’t want to lose her again.”

  “Lose me? What do you mean? Tell me what’s going on.” She was near tears, anger giving way to defeat.

  Why is no one talking to me, she wondered.

  “Sophie, I’ll explain everything. I promise. I understand you have a lot of questions. First, we need to run some tests,” Dr. Hansen said, tenderly brushing some hair out of her face. “This must be hard. Please be patient. In due time, all of your questions will be answered.”

  His touch calmed, although his I’m-a-doctor-and-I know-what’s-best attitude annoyed her.

  “All right,” she conceded, “I’ll try to be patient for a while.” Then something dawned on her and she had to ask, “Are you related to a Phillip Hansen? He’s a teacher over at Sacred Heart.”

  Dr. Hansen's face revealed shock, and surprise, but he immediately concealed his emotions, answering, “We’ll talk again later, after we’ve run our tests.”

  Turning, he walked away, followed by the multitude that had come in with him.

  While they were all leaving, and slapping each other on the back, talking excitedly, the rage of before resettled.

  I’m not a lab rat, she thought. I’m the patient. They should be giving me the answers I want. What have they got to be happy about?

  “Why can’t I get my answers now?” she asked angrily, slamming her hand down on the bed.

  “Wow, what a great sign,” the nurse said, walking back into her room, a big smile on her face. She came over and stood next to Sophie, putting a needle full of something clear into one of her IV bags. When she was finished, she took a thermometer from her pocket and stuck it in Sophie’s ear. “I’ve just given you a little Demerol to help you relax.”

  Barely able to contain her emotions, she uttered, “I don’t want to relax. I want to know what’s going on.”

  The woman smiled patiently, “Absolutely, dear. Give me just a few more minutes.

  My name is Hope, by the way, and I’ll be taking care of you.”

  She nodded her understanding, the Demerol beginning to take its effect on her body. She fought against it, trying to keep her eyes open, but couldn’t. Before she fell asleep, she whispered, "Please be all right, little one."

  #

  When she woke, she was inside what looked like a stark, white column. For a brief moment, she thought David had found her and buried her alive. Before she really started to panic, though, she heard the humming of a machine in her ears.

  “Sophie, I need you to hold very still. We’re almost done.”

  “Phillip?” she whispered.

  “It’s Dr. Hansen. Just a few more minutes and we’ll have you out of there.”

  “Okay,” she responded quietly.

  After what seemed like much longer than a few minutes, she was exhumed. The light in the room was too bright for her eyes. Instinctively she lifted both hands to shield them.

  “It’s incredible how quickly your body is recovering now you’re fully awake.”

  “It is?” She questioned, not understanding what he meant.

  “Absolutely.”

  Two men came to either side of her, each grabbing a side of the sheet she was on. The first one said, “On the count of three.” Together they counted, “One. Two. Three.” In unity, they lifted her onto a gurney.

  Dr. Hansen said, “I’m going to let these two capable young men wheel you to your room.” She must’ve allowed her nervousness to show, because he continued in a more gentle tone, “Don’t worry, I’ll be in later.”

  He left and she was alone with the two young men. She looked from one to the other. They were gawking at her as though she were an exotic creature they’d never seen before. Unable to take it, she closed her eyes, feigning fatigue.

  Once they’d lifted her onto her bed, she waited several minutes to make sure they were gone, then gingerly opened her eyes.

  Immediately, she realized she was in a different room. It was smaller; private. The room she’d been in before had been white. White walls, white ceiling and white floors. In this room, the walls were painted a light warm shade of green. Where her other room had been stark, this room overflowed with furniture.

  Under the big, picture frame window, was a couch. Next to it, a dark green chair and a side table. A cupboard and a storage unit sat against the adjacent wall. The storage unit looked like it held a television. The curtains were drawn and once again she had a great view, this time of the city.

  It was dark outside, making the city lights twinkle more brightly. The scene mesmerized. She was almost asleep when her nose suddenly caught the aroma of something sweet. It smelled amazing. Lifting her head, she turned her gaze toward the smell.

  She hadn’t noticed before because of where they were located, but sitting on another side table, next to her bed was an enormous bouquet of lilies.

  How beautiful, she thought, smiling happily. I wonder if Phillip sent me those or if he even knows I’m here. Probably not, she speculated, the chill of loneliness creeping in on her. In some ways, David did win. My baby’s gone and I haven’t heard from Rina or Phillip.

  Her thoughts were tumbling in circles, like a dryer. They were constantly turning from her daughter, to David, to Phillip, to Rina and then back again.

  I need answers, she thought, for what seemed like the hundredth time.

  Even their lack of chatter seemed strange. Why weren’t Dr. Hansen and Hope telling her anything? Usually it’s the first t
hing they do, she reflected. She was still contemplating her circumstances when she dozed off.

  She was once again in the closet David had placed her in, bleeding everywhere, knowing she was losing her baby, seeing him sneer at her in glee. He’d betrayed her, violated her, and she was angry. “

  “No!” she yelled, sitting up in bed. She looked wildly around the room, not knowing where she was. Her covers were damp, probably from sweat. Absently, she wiped the tears from her face. Lying down, she allowed her body to shake from the cold and her sobs, loss and loneliness her only companions.

  At once, there was a quick knock at the door. Hope entered, followed by two more women. They looked like nurses as well, but were wearing different smocks.

  “Sophie, honey, it’s all right,” she cooed calmly. “I’m going to give you something to calm you down, and then these girls will change your sheets and your gown. We need to keep you warm.” She injected something into her IV bag, then whispered something to the other women. To Sophie, she said, “What happened? Did you have a bad dream?”

  Sophie nodded, unable to speak, the apparent dream still too real and her sadness still too raw. She allowed the girls to roll her from side to side as they changed her bed linens and her gown while she was still in the bed. When they were done, and had left the room, Hope asked, “Is there something I can get you?” She looked briefly at her watch, then back at Sophie. “If you’d like a drink, I’d be glad to get you one. It’s been long enough.”

  The thought of a drink of ice water sounded incredible, like it’d been years since she’d had one.

  “Yes, thank you Hope, I’d love a glass of water.”

  “Be right back,” she bubbled, an instant smile appearing on her face.

  When Hope was gone, her mind immediately went back to what she’d been dreaming. The Demerol had begun to relax her mind and body once again. This time, however, she was more awake and more able to fight its effects.

  David, why did you have to be crazy, she wondered, allowing herself to think back over their time together. She’d never met his parents. At first, it bothered her.