Cross of Ivy

by Roxi Bahar Hewertson

  Noah followed the ambulance and the tow truck the rest of the way down Shay Mountain. He prayed out loud, but the sound of his own voice gave him little comfort. Tears streamed down his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried.

  CHAPTER 37

  At the end of the long tunnel, Abby could see red balloons suspended in the air, bobbing back and forth. She saw him standing there in front of the most beautiful, loving white light she had ever seen.

  “Daddy is that you? I’m coming, I’m coming. Help me, Daddy, I’m scared.” He was smiling at her. He looked just like his picture, young, happy, and in his Navy uniform.

  “Yes, Abigail, it’s me. You want to come home now, don’t you?”

  “Oh yes, Daddy, I want to come home.” She put out her hand.

  “I understand, dear one, but it’s not time yet. Your work is not finished. I’ll be here waiting for you when you are ready. Go back now. Go back. Go back.”

  “No. Please, Daddy, I want to stay. It’s ugly there; I don’t want to go back.” Abby was running and running, but she could get no closer to him. No matter how fast she ran, he was always the same distance, out of reach.

  “It’s time for me to go, now, Abigail. I’ll be waiting.” His voice was an echo.

  He disappeared, faded away, and the light in the tunnel turned to velvet black, and the black became bright again. Noises. She could hear strange noises. People were talking about her. She could see her broken body on the operating table. The doctor and the nurses were hovering over her, reading machines, sticking tubes in her body. But how? On her skin, where her cross should have been were wires. And then everything went black, no sound, no light, nothing.

  “Abby, can you hear us?” Noah sat on one side of Abby’s hospital bed, Claire on the other.

  “When will she come out of it, doctor?” Claire asked.

  “We don’t know. Her vital signs are better, but she’s lost a lot of blood. We’ve pumped up her lung, but the skull fracture is putting pressure on the brain, and we may have to drain some fluid. I just don’t know. She’s very weak. Her will to live is more important now than anything we can do.”

  “Can she hear us?” Noah wanted to know.

  “It can’t hurt to talk to her, and it might help a great deal.”

  Dr. Marjorie Abel turned toward the commotion in the hall. “Excuse me,” she said. “Where’s our mother? What’s happening to her?” Zoe demanded.

  “They won’t let us in. Are you the doctor? You’re not our regular doctor. What’s going on here?” Zoe was nearly purple with rage and worry.

  “Zoe, let the doctor answer one question at a time,” Luke said as he edged his way forward. “Well, doctor, could you please answer my sister’s questions?” His stern face no longer looked a youthful twenty-one.

  “Let’s sit over here,” Dr. Abel pointed to the bench in the hall. “Let’s start with me. I’m Dr. Abel, the physician on duty tonight. If you give me the name of your family doctor, I will call for you. In the meantime, we have stabilized your mother, but she must stay in intensive care.” Zoe started to interrupt but Dr. Abel put up her hand. “She’s had a bad car accident, but please remain calm. Friends of your family found her, and I will ask them to step out so you can go in, only two at a time. Right now, your mother needs all the love and care she can get. She must want to live. Do you understand me?”

  “You mean she might die?” Zoe turned white as tears burst from her eyes.

  “We won’t know for twenty-four hours. If she gets through that, her chances are much better. She has to want to live.”

  “Of course, she wants to live!” Zoe screamed at the doctor.

  Luke interrupted. “What should we do, doctor?” Luke asked, staring steadily at Dr. Abel, and he pressed gently on Zoe’s shoulder to keep her from jumping out of her seat.

  “You should spend time in her room, hold her hand, tell her how much you need her and love her.”

  “Then let us in, please,” Luke said.

  “In just a moment. I need to locate your father. Do you know where he is?” Dr. Abel asked.

  “Off recruiting somewhere, I guess. We’ll find him and have him call you. In the meantime, I will take full responsibility for my mother’s welfare,” Luke said without emotion.

  Noah and Claire came out of Abby’s private room. As soon as she saw the children, Claire ran to them and hugged them both.

  “Zoe! Luke! You’re here! She’ll be all right; you’ll see. I just know she will,” Claire squeaked between her sobs. Zoe squeezed Claire’s hands, and Luke thanked Noah for saving his mother. Noah could only nod his solemn head.

  The twins walked into their mother’s room. Zoe let out a gasp when she saw Abby’s limp body and bruised face motionless on the hospital bed with tubes from red and clear sacs flowing into her arms and machines bleeping in the subdued light. Luke looked into his sister’s panicked eyes.

  “Mother? Can you hear me? This is Luke. Mother, you must wake up and get well,” Luke said softly as though trying to wake her from a deep stupor. “Zoe and I are here, and we want you to talk with us. Mother, we love you.” Luke held Abby’s lifeless hand and bowed his head to hide the tears he could no longer withhold. He lifted her hand to his lips and whispered, “You have to live; I need you. Please, Mama, please.” A drop from his eyes fell to her hand.

  Zoe’s voice sounded like a tiny girl’s once again. “Oh, Mommy, Mommy, please don’t die. You have to live. You have to make my wedding dress someday, and you have to see my children, and you have to go shopping with me. Don’t you see? I love you, really. I know I do dumb things sometimes and say rotten things, but I don’t mean any of it, I swear. Please, Mommy, please get well. I love you.” Zoe’s sobs were uncontrollable. She laid her head next to Abby’s leg and wept on the blanket until she could weep no more.

  CHAPTER 38

  Torrential winter rains had filled the gutters, the bayous were spilling over the soggy land, and not another drop could be absorbed. Everyone was talking flood.

  Emmy was on the phone to her husband, afraid to go outside for fear of getting stuck in the overflowing streets and worried about his ride home, when she heard a pounding at her door.

  “John, someone’s at the door, hang on.” Emmy put the phone down on the kitchen counter and ran to the door. It was Aunt Mary and Joshua standing under a huge umbrella, their faces tight and tense.

  Emmy hurried to open the door, breaking a nail in the process. With her finger in her mouth she said, “My word, Aunt Mary, Joshua, what in heaven’s name?”

  Mary wasn’t over the threshold when she brushed by Emmy and blurted, “It’s Abby. She’s been in a car crash, and she’s in the hospital. She’s critical. We have to get up north now!”

  Emmy’s mouth dropped open. She looked at Joshua for confirmation. He nodded his head.

  “Oh, my God! Not our Abby!” Emmy was stunned. “When, Aunt Mary? What on earth happened?”

  “Last night in a blizzard. We don’t know all the details yet, but call John, would you, Emmy, see if he can find us a way out of here in all this mess. I’ve got to get to Abby today.”

  “John? Oh, my gosh, he’s still hanging on the phone!” Emmy ran to the kitchen. “John? Are you still there?”

  “Shore am, honey. Who’s at the door?”

  “John, it’s Abby.”

  “At the door?”

  “No, listen. Aunt Mary and Joshua are here. Abby’s in the hospital critical from a car crash, and we have to get up there, and you’ve gotta help us find a plane that’ll fly in this rain.”

  “Hold on, Em. Let me get this straight. Abby’s in Vermont in the hospital, Mary and Joshua are at the house, and you want a plane to take y’all to see Abby, is that right?” John asked.

  “Yes, yes, that’s right. John, what are we gonna do?”

  “Okay, let me think. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll make some calls and get right back. Tell Aunt Mary we’ll find a way.”

&n
bsp; John hung up the phone and looked out his tenth-floor window. Today, it looked like a city of water and mud. The clouds were still thick and threatening, but the rain had eased up a bit. Even the fog had lifted some. It would be risky to fly in this weather, and he didn’t care for the idea of his wife and her family, his family, taking such a chance. But he knew they had to go. The stocky, balding president of South Central Savings and Loan twisted his salt-and-pepper moustache with his left hand and thumbed through his Rolodex with his right until he found what he was looking for. He dialed his best hope.

  “Hey there. John Barron here. Please tell Mr. Stacey I’m on the line.

  It paid to be on a first-name basis with good customers. That had always been John’s way, and it had served him well for over twenty years. He’d climbed the floors, one at a time, from teller to bank president on first names, and it would be his style all the way to the Chairman’s seat. Today, it was a ticket to Vermont.

  Bruce Stacey was a decorated navy pilot who had flown in Vietnam. He owned fifteen planes and leased them out or flew small charters for companies who did not want the overhead. All of them were financed through South Central Savings and Loan. He was a solid and shrewd businessman, and John trusted him. Bruce said he’d take his small jet and his best pilot and fly them up himself, first class, he said. But he’d warned John, too. This was going to be a bumpy ride for a while, and he’d have to pull some strings to get clearance, but he’d find a way, yes, he would.

  Ten minutes after first hanging up with his wife, John called her back. He heard her frantic voice on the other end of the line.

  “Hello? John? Is that you?”

  “Emmy, listen to me now. I sweet-talked Bruce Stacey into a plane, and he’s going to fly y’all up himself. I’ll pick you up, and we’ll swing by to get Mary and Joshua in about an hour; that should give y’all time to pack. Then we’ll meet Bruce at the hangar. How’s that?”

  “I knew you could do it! I knew if anybody could, you could. Hold on, let me tell Aunt Mary.” Emmy relayed the message and got back on the phone. “Are you going to come along, John?”

  “I don’t think so, honey. I have a board meeting tomorrow, and I think it’s best if you have time alone with Abby. You better pack now; I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “All right. Thank you, darlin’, I can’t tell you how much this means to me, to all of us.”

  “Well, I’ll just have to take it out in trade, that’s all,” John chuckled.

  “You are a bad boy, but I love ya anyhow. Bye, now.”

  John cleared his desk, buzzed his secretary, and called for his car.

  Mary and Joshua left Emmy to go home and pack. As Emmy was doing the same, she grabbed her suitcase from the top shelf of the hall closet and dragged with it a box of letters that spilled all over the floor.

  “Damn!” Emmy said as she leaned over to pick them up. And then she stopped cold. Among the letters were a few old pictures, one of she and Abby when they were less than ten, riding their bikes, one from the day Abby and Mary moved in with Papa Cory and Gramma, one of Abby’s three children from a dozen Christmases ago. The one she lingered over the longest was of Abby and Will’s prom night.

  Wills. Emmy knew she had to call him. He had to know. Maybe he should come along. No, what would Zach think? To hell with Zach. Emmy grabbed her address book from her bed stand and called Wills.

  “Taylor Farm,” the voice said.

  “This is Emmy Barron. It’s urgent. I need to speak to Wills Taylor.”

  “Emmy, well, hey, how you doin’?” Wills asked.

  “Wills? Oh, thank God you’re there.” Emmy started to choke up but forced herself to speak. “Wills, it’s Abby. She’s been in a terrible car crash, and she’s in a coma or something, and we’ve got a plane to fly us up and I thought you should know, and...well, if you want to go, you can come with us.” There was no sound on the other end of the line.

  “Wills, hello, are you there?”

  “Yes, I’m here. When are you leaving, and where’s the plane?”

  “Bruce Stacey’s hangars. John is picking me up in about ten minutes, and then we’re fetchin’ Mary and Joshua and then we’ll be going to the plane.”

  “I’ll be there. Just have to make a few calls. Em?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for callin’, and thanks for the ride.”

  “Just make sure your fanny is on that plane, ya hear?”

  “God bless you, Emmy. I’ll see you there.”

  Wills called his eldest sons and arranged for farm duties, threw some clothes in a knapsack, grabbed his razor and toothbrush, and raced out of the house. He was halfway to the airport before his breathing normalized. Emmy’s words swirled in his head—car accident; coma; Abby. All of his pain came crashing down on him – the day he and Abby split up, the night she told him about Zach, his third baby who died in her sleep, Jasper, and then Sue Ann’s slow and painful death. And now, Abby in a coma, just when he’d found her again, just when he’d seen the unmistakable love in her eyes, just when he’d begun to hope again.

  The small airport was inundated in water, but Wills could see one plane out on the runway getting fueled. That had to be it. He parked the truck, slung his bag over his back, and ran out to the plane. The rain stung his cheeks, reminding him he was alive. He stepped on the metal doorway ladder. Emmy, Mary and Joshua were already on board. John Barron was kissing his wife goodbye.

  “Wills! You made it. Thank God!” Emmy said as she reached past her husband for his hand.

  “I wasn’t sure I’d get through the flood spills on the highway, but when I go fast enough, that ol’ truck of mine thinks it’s a speedboat.” He shook John’s hand and thanked him for the ride. Wills sat in his seat, put on the seat belt and turned to Mary.

  “Mrs. Larkin, I...”

  “Wills. I know why Emmy called you. She told me all about things on the ride over here. She says Abby’s still in love with you and that she was thinkin’ about leavin’ her husband, before this terrible accident.” Mary’s voice faded, and then she started again. “Well, son, it’s because of me she didn’t marry you when you asked her, and it’s because of me that she married that horrible boy, but it won’t be because of me that she loses her one chance at happiness now. So when she pulls out of this, and I know she will, you have my permission to give her that happiness, you hear me? To hell with him!” Mary slapped her purse, which lay over her legs.

  “That means a lot to me, Mrs. Larkin,” Wills said. “You know, I’ve always loved Abby, and no matter what, I always will. We have to help her pull through this, and she will, like you said. She has to.”

  Bruce Stacey bid farewell to John, closed the door and told everyone to expect a roller-coaster ride for about twenty minutes. Once they got above the cloud cover and out of the low level winds, their ride would be more comfortable. The first ten minutes, all four passengers and the pilots were tossed from side to side and nearly lifted out of their seats a dozen times. Emmy turned green. She looked like she was about to pass out, so Wills kept talking to her between bumps. Mary and Joshua sat like cavalry soldiers on bucking horses. At last, they were high above the clouds, and when they landed six hours later at Cross County Airport, all passengers had recovered.

  “I have to stop at a florist,” Wills said in the cab on the way to the hospital.

  “Now?” Mary snapped at him. She was in no mood to make any stops.

  “It’s important, Mrs. Larkin. Trust me, please.”

  Abby’s mother stared at Wills over the top of her bifocals. “Young man,” she said to the cab driver, “please take us to the nearest florist.”

  Wills hopped out of the cab and came back with a half dozen huge red balloons in his fist. He said something to the driver, who got out, opened the trunk, and captured the balloons inside.

  Mary smiled for the first time since they left Baton Rouge. “She’ll like that. I’m glad you insisted,” she said to Wills.


  Joshua patted her hand. “Now, my dear, we go. Driver, to the hospital, if you please.”

  “Yes, yes, hurry, please,” said Mary.

  The Baton Rouge entourage piled out of the cab, raced down a long entry hall and into the elevator of Cross Memorial Hospital. Even Joshua, whose pace had slowed considerably over the years, nearly jogged after Mary and the rest in their haste to see Abby.

  They stood silently in the elevator, huddled together with an orderly and a gurney, and stared in unison at the numbered lights indicating the floors. They had pushed three, but first it went down to the basement level. Mary mumbled something about hating how elevators always did that and how irritating it was.

  Finally, the third floor light came on, and a ding signaled the door was about to open. When it did, the women walked out followed by the men.

  “Over here, dear,” Joshua pointed to the sign that read Intensive Care Staff Only.

  They moved together toward the double swinging doors and headed for the nurse’s station. Mary spoke first.

  “We are Abigail Trudeau’s family. Can you please tell me where she is and how she is?” Mary asked politely.

  “Sorry, ma’am I can’t release that information without the doctor’s approval.”

  “Young lady, I am a nurse, and that girl in there is my daughter. I know you can tell me about my daughter, and if you won’t, I’ll find someone who will. Now, I’ll ask you once again, where is she and what is her condition?”

  “I’m just following orders, as you must realize, ma’am. I’ll call the doctor on duty for you.” “Thank you.” Mary drummed her fingers on the counter as she waited for the nurse to get off the phone. Joshua stayed by her side while Emmy and Wills paced. The balloons floated above their heads, bobbing up and down as they walked.

  The nurse returned. “Mrs. Trudeau is in room 305, down the hall and to the left. She’s nearly made it through the first twenty-four hours, and her vitals are stable. They removed her spleen; she has a skull fracture and some cracked ribs. Her lungs have stayed inflated, and no infection seems apparent at this time, although we are concerned about fluid in the lungs. She remains unconscious, but she can have two visitors at a time for ten-minute intervals. Her husband is in with her now, and two people are waiting.