Patrick and Dr. Kirkland helped her down from the chair supporting her weight easily. She was then placed on the converted bed in the same room. It was stiff but to Justine's drained body, not to mention her mind and heart, it felt like pure clouds of fluffy cotton. However, before Dr. Kirkland would allow her to close her eyes, he required that she eat a large sugared donut and flush it down with an entire eight ounce cup of orange juice. Justine, whom normally loved sweet donuts, simply ate it, too tired and defeated to enjoy it, almost having to force herself to finish. It had helped a bit for the feeling of nausea, however it did nothing for her other preoccupations.
Justine didn't know how much time had passed when she woke up lying in the small bed, under a warm cotton blanket and spooned tenderly by Patrick. She hated that when her eyes opened they revealed the hospital room instead of her own room. It cruelly confirmed that the past couple hours of events had indeed been real and not a dream.
Patrick, who had barely slept at all, opened his eyes and held her tighter, kissing her hair softly, his heart broken and breaking further for her. She turned awkwardly in the bed to face him, placing her chin on his shoulder, and finally let the dam break, oblivious that her tears were soaking both of them.
After her tears were finally expended, she fought back the desire to go back to sleep. The seductive ignorance and bliss that sleep would once again provide. She kissed Patrick lightly on the top of his nose, just for the contact that she needed from him.
"I've got to go and see how Mom is doing."
Without remarking, Patrick stretched his long legs and stood up to go with her. The early morning sunlight that streamed in through the small corridor windows surprised both Justine and Patrick, neither of them having realized how long they had slept.
Deputy Roberts, like a persistent and unwelcome salesman approached the two of them before they could even think to speak or locate a nurse. His approach was solid, the weight of his walk heavy on the floor. He nodded at them, his eyes firm.
"Miss Ramsey, not only will your mother be charged with a D.U.I., but with aggravated assault as well." He paused, not for the benefit of allowing her to accept that slowly, but Patrick was sure, for his benefit to ensure that she realized how serious and yes, criminal the situation was.
"She collided with a car stopped at a traffic light. The woman in the car, a single mother of two, is two doors down from your mother."
Thinking Justine might swoon, Patrick placed his arm on her back, bracing her. Deputy Roberts apparently had expected more of a reaction from Justine, and seemed genuinely disappointed. So much so, most of the arrogance left his face with the pious winds of his sails.
Finally, Justine replied with a calm, quiet,
"Okay." She looked down indecisively at her feet. What do you say in moments like this? Moments, tragedies that are never supposed to happen. How are you supposed to act?
"What is the condition of the other woman?" Her voice seemed cold and distant, but it was actually just dull and worn out.
Deputy Robert's stared at her momentarily, gaining a grudging respect for her strength.
"She's stable. Broken femur and clavicle," he paused to take a deep breath,
"She'll live."
This was the best news that Justine had heard in hours, that much at least was a relief.
Justine nodded,
"I'm going to go see to my mother before I address this issue with you further." She started to walk away from Roberts, with Patrick silently at her side.
"Miss Ramsey?" It was a stern spoken, almost insulted command.
"Sir?" She barely paused between steps. "I need for you to help fill out some paper work."
Patrick noticed the void green of her eyes turn quickly into a bright emerald fire.
"Deputy Roberts, unless I've violated some law that you would like to detain me for, I'm going to go see to my mother, and I am going to take all the time I want."
With that said, she snatched up Patrick's hand and sauntered off, confidently defiant.
Chapter Twenty Four
Patrick was a bundle of nerves, he wasn't sure of his exact role is this whole situation. Did he go in the room attached to Justine's hip? Step back and wait out side of the room while Justine dealt with such a private issue? Patrick whom was so rarely confused, was rattled and feeling quite awkward. He just wanted to do right by Justine in her time of need, but he wasn't even sure what right was.
The I.C.U. walk way, was quiet, somber and depressingly weighted down with the feeling of a sterilized institution. Every hospital room door was open, anyone walking by could simply turn their head and see the occupant of each room. The rooms were not full of fluffy stuffed animals or even vibrant flowers, there might be a few here and there, but nothing remarkable or even inspiring. It was a somber, serious place and one could feel the heavy presence of the delicate balance between life and death.
As Justine walked slowly, she wondered which room contained the woman her mother had harmed. She attempted to fight back thoughts of the other woman but her conscience wouldn't allow her to do so.
Who was she? Would she have family to care for her in the long run? How much of her life would have to change due to Alice's crime?
Ah, the word crime. Justine hated it, despised it, but she knew even though it was hard to see her mother as a criminal, what she had done was a crime. She had driven drunk, not taking consideration of the fellow people on the road. She had recklessly harmed someone, and yes, damn it, that was criminal! And so, so stupid!
Justine abruptly forced away the anger when she stopped in front of the door that the nurse from the previous night had told her was her mother's room number. She paused, gathering herself, bracing herself. Patrick tugged her hand and looked deeply into her eyes. He knew that he had to finally seek instruction.
"Justine, do you want me to go in with you, or wait out here?" There was a few lonely looking benches and couches along the corridor.
"I'd like you to come in with me if you're comfortable with that."
He didn't say a word, only followed her into the dismal room.
The room was tiny and full of so many beeping machines, it was ironic to Justine that she noticed that many of them seemed similar to Spectrums own investigating equipment. Alice was asleep underneath a white cotton blanket in the narrow hospital bed. Her face was swollen and bruised in deep purple and sour yellow patches. Dark blonde hair was swept back from her face, the unbruised portions of her skin was the palest of cream. Alice had sustained several small injuries, bruising, abrasions. Her meniscus in her right knee had been torn, she had a fractured arm and had sustained a severe Concussion. Dr. Kirkland was worried that the swelling from the concussion had not noticeably gone down yet. Alice had a high fever and was being heavily medicated, but there was little anyone could do, other than wait for the concussion to start to improve.
The seriousness of Alice's injuries hadn't impacted Justine until she saw her mother lying there pale, bruised and totally unresponsive. She pulled a chair up to Alice's bed and tenderly grabbed her fragile hand with her own.
"I love you Momma, you have to stay strong. You have to fight this thing."
It was heart breaking that Alice didn't respond, not a twitch of the lips, or a flutter of the eye lids. Excluding the warmth of her skin, she could very easily pass for a cadaver.
Justine didn't even realize she was crying until one of her tears dropped down onto her mother's hand. The constant sound of the heart monitor steadily beat on, at least comforting Justine that Alice's heart was unharmed and functioning properly.
Justine squeezed her mother's hand wishing fervently that she would open her eyes and see her daughter, know that she was there for her, with her. The Electroencephalogram which measured Alice's brain waves tapped away next to the
Electrocardiogram. The machines were frightening in their own formidable way.
Justine sat back for a moment, stretching, removing her hand from her mother
's for just a moment. The Electroencephalogram sent out a loud buzzing sound, the paper rapidly filling up with high arcing lines. Justine jumped up, startled, unsure of what was happening. Patrick stood back as a nurse hurried in.
"Stand back, please." A nurse shouted out without even looking at her.
Justine didn't move back, she was dazed, hypnotized by the intense light that was filling the room. It was golden and warm, it glowed brightly and seemed to swirl about the ceiling as if it were floating playfully on currents of the wind. However, Justine knew this light was not a pleasant sight. It was a soul, misplaced, slipped out of its still living body.
Dr. Kirkland and a team of fellow doctors and nurses all crammed into the room. Justine was gently pushed back into a chair in the corner of the room. But she couldn't sit, she couldn't take her eyes off the radiant light. She stole a single moment to look at Patrick and see if he noticed the light as well. He was staring at her intently, his worry was only for Justine and how well she was holding up. He didn't see Alice's soul bouncing almost incoherently around the crowded little room.
Another light, this one stronger, more bold seemed to seep in from the ceiling. This light was a brighter golden yellow, it went directly to the light of Alice's soul blending, melding the two lights into one, until it seemed as if it had taken Alice's soul into itself and snuffed it out.
Justine watched the silent display, gasping, placing her face in her hands, yet completely unable to take her eyes off the light show that was apparent only to her.
"Alice, come to me, come to me baby, I'm here."
With a heart wrenching grief, Justine recognized the voice of her father.
The shape of the light started to rapidly change again. At first Justine wasn't sure what the souls of her two parents were doing. But then she noticed a thick, masculine hand, grasping, pulling at Alice's soul.
Patrick's eyes were on Justine who seemed oblivious to the medical team in the room and the Electroencephalogram which continued to buzz loudly. He watched her stare at the ceiling avidly, when the immediate mixture of warm and cold air seemed to brush over him, caressing him disturbingly in vitality, and then he knew. He knew what Justine was watching, although he couldn’t see it, he could feel it and it broke his heart.
The shapes then formed into hands, Alice's and Ethan's until Justine could see four fully revealed arms extended around each other in a desperate embrace.
She's dying, Justine thought. Oh my god, she's dying and he's here to take her away with him.
The light shifted and lost its humanistic shape and quickly rushed down to hover just above Alice's body as a revolving ball of golden light.
Barely above a gentle whisper, Justine heard,
"No Alice. It's not your time yet. As badly as I miss you, it's not your time. You have to stay here, everything will be okay. It will all work out. I love you Alice, I have to go, but you're going to stay here with Justine."
The light blended again for a moment longer, as if embracing desperately, love tragically separating once again. Blinding light nearly sparking with such strong energy filled Justine's eyes. The light of love. Then the light formed into the rough shape of a spear and penetrated Alice's body, sharply and quickly, her body twitching and jumping up from the impact. The brighter, golden light of Ethan quickly rushed back out of Alice and flew to hover above, near the ceiling for a moment longer while the machine's steadily came back down to an even pace. Ethan's soul, pleased that Alice was back within herself, acted as a sentry no more and disintegrated until the ceiling was empty and white.
The medical team backed up, gasping for breath, the adrenaline running down their faces as sweat. They remained in place, holding their collective breath, for what seemed like an eternity to Justine. It seemed as if the whole world had simply paused in respectful silence.
Slowly one by one, as if being summoned on cue by a silent command, the medical team departed barely giving Justine an optimistic glance. Patrick swept Justine into his arms holding her tightly, wishing fervently to wash away the dazed expression of grief on her face.
"It's alright baby, she'll be okay now. She's going to be just fine." The words had a hauntingly similar reverence that reminded Justine of her father's words just a few minutes past.
*****
Justine and Patrick spent the day at the hospital. They ate a light breakfast in the hospital cafeteria which Patrick had to practically force down Justine's throat. Very few words were said between the two of them, during the meal, but they shared a quiet understanding of what had happened.
The day progressed slowly, but after lunch, Dr. Kirkland informed Justine and Patrick of some very positive news. Alice's fever had faded out a lot and had been down graded to a very mild fever. This meant that it was likely the swelling of her brain would start to go down dramatically. Justine felt a quiet relief and enjoyed a private moment in Patrick's arms.
She had suggested to him several times to go ahead and go on home, to rest, shower, do whatever he needed to do. He had ignored the suggestion each time, saying that unless she needed to be alone with her mother; his place was by her side. There was nothing for him at home, and he wanted to be there with her. Justine, of course wanted him with her, but didn't want him to feel like it was a duty or
obligation, and she was delighted that he truly did want to stay there with her.
Justine was sitting by her mother's bed, hoping fervently that the Electroencephalogram would remain quiet and steady when Deputy Robert's quietly entered the room. Patrick looked up from the sports magazine he had been flipping through in a chair in the corner of the room, the look on his face when he recognized Deputy Robert's was a silent, formidable growl.
Roberts simply ignored Patrick, as if he weren't worth the effort of acknowledgement. Justine had to remind herself that although he was a nuisance, he was indeed just trying to do his job and her mother had committed a crime. She rose, quickly but quietly and walked out into the hall with Roberts. She knew that she had to do any paper work that was required for the sheriff's office and she might as well get it done and over with, as painful as it might be.
Justine walked with Deputy Robert's to the cafeteria which was quickly becoming all too familiar to her, while Patrick tagged along keeping a few paces back. He seemed determined like a weary watch dog or an over paid body guard and Justine loved him every second for it.
The three of them ordered coffee and sat in a quiet table in an empty corner of the room. Deputy Robert's opened a lap top computer and pulled out several carbon sheets of paper. His eyes and hands remained busy, giving Justine ample time to calm her nerves and resolve herself to the seriousness and delicacy of the situation. Robert's glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He knew she hated him. Hated him for what he stood for, hated him for what he reminded her of. As much as Roberts was upset over the crime and determined to do his job, he also understood that Justine was a young woman feeling totally out of place and overwhelmed. He would never allow himself to let her know it, but he felt very compassionate for her.
He cleared his throat, gaining both the attention of Patrick and Justine. Justine sat up straight, ready to give him the information he needed. The first set of questions involved confirming Alice's personal information, address, date of birth, etc. This line of questioning helped to relax Justine even more. Robert's then informed her that it was her duty as Alice's closest relative to act as a power of attorney on any medical decisions that may be required for Alice's care, until she was well enough to speak on her own behalf. She would also have to act as a stand between during the legal proceedings, until at which time Alice was conscious and legally arrested. And she would be arrested.
Roberts gave Justine a statement to read and sign about the events of the accident and the charges that would be brought up against her mother. Those charges of course, were only from the county at that point in time, but if the victim who was still a patient and in the care of the I.C.U., wanted to press any
additional charges, they would be addressed at that time.
Justine was surprised when Deputy Robert's closed his lap top and put the paper work in a file labeled Ramsey A. He gave her the lightest hint of a smiled and thanked her for her time.
"I'm sorry to have intruded on you in a time like this Justine, but I had to get this done. I do hope you understand that." He left on that parting word, without a look back.
The victim's name, Justine had noted on the paper work, was Lisa Shultz. When Justine and Patrick returned to the I.C.U. again, Justine quickly walked over to the nurses' station.
A young nurse looked up and smiled warmly, "May I help you, Miss Ramsey?"
Justine bit her lip and nearly stuttered when she
asked,
"What is the current condition of Lisa Shultz?"
The warm smile quickly left the nurses face; her eyes seem to bore into Justine suspiciously.
"I just want to know her condition, I mean her no harm," Justine informed her beseechingly.
The nurse stared at her for a moment longer, almost as if searching for any signs of dishonesty. Finally she smiled again,
"Go see her for yourself, she's awake now."
"Justine?" Patrick gripped her arm gently, looking into her eyes in concern.
"I want to make sure she will be okay Patrick, I deserve that much relief."
He couldn't argue with her concern or her motives, but he wasn't sure how the victim of Justine's mother's reckless accident would act towards Justine. He knew however, that there was no stopping her, and she must do what she considered needed to be done, even if it might turn out to be disastrous.
He let her arm go and excused himself, knowing that this was one thing that she must do alone. He was only the boyfriend of the girl whose mother had wrecked the patient's life. She turned, and grabbed Patrick's hand, giving him a quick, chaste, but affectionate kiss.
Journey of Souls (The Mortality Series) Page 21
