by Mandi Lynn
“Willow,” he said.
By now, her body had stilled and her tears had dried, but she still failed to pry open her body to the world once again.
“I have to go back to work,” Randy said. His voice was soft and his arms were gentle. He was kinder than what she deserved. “I’ll be back later.”
Willow began to untangle herself from him. She couldn’t find it in herself to look at him. The cramps in her ribs were there, but now they were just small reminders of what she had injected into herself. The top of her shoulder still stung loud and clear.
“I’ll see you in a little bit,” she said. She was pushing in the chair when she said it, an excuse to look away.
“Lay down if you need to.” He stepped forward and took her hand while he kissed the top of her forehead. Under his touch, her body felt rigid. “I love you,” he said.
She looked up at him and saw the truth in his words. She memorized his face, but his eyes looked too tired. She hadn’t remembered him looking so exhausted before. It made her stomach twist to think she had done this to him. “I love you, too,” she said. Her voice shook as she spoke.
He walked away, leaving her in the wake of her own sickness.
Chapter 31
Paul eyed the red skin around Sam’s eye. The skin shined at him with a gleam of oil. The rash came and went, but no one seemed to know what it was, or how to prevent it. Sam did her best not to itch it, but Paul could see her thinking about it, lifting a hand only to put it back down.
“How’s it feeling today?” he asked.
“Can I sit up?”
Shelly stepped into the room with some banana bread from the cafeteria. It was one of Sam’s favorite snacks, so she put it on her bedside table, still wrapped in plastic.
“Sure,” he said, pushing the button on her bed to pull the mattress up. She was already sitting up, but he pushed the bed as far as it could go until the mattress met with her back.
“No, I mean, sit-sit.”
“Sweetheart, why don’t you eat your banana bread first and then you can sit.”
Sam frowned, but she took the bread anyways. Her stomach still churned every few hours, but for right now, she could eat. The bread was moist and fresh, with small chunks of almond mixed in.
“Thank you,” she said. Sam moved her feet off the side ofthe bed and pulled herself up. She was careful not to knock her IV out as she did so, but when her feet finally touched the ground it was like she was finally getting a part of her life back.
“You seem to be feeling better,” Paul said. He was eying Sam and watched her steady herself to a sitting position. A smile was painted across her face, and he felt like he was looking at his granddaughter again for the first time. He had just seen her the other day, and now it was like she was herself again, or at least on the mend. Her smile was the tell-tale sign that she was improving. He hadn’t seen her smile in weeks.
“I haven’t been throwing up anymore. I still feel a little queasy every now and then though.” She skimmed her fingers across the paper-thin johnnie and wondered when it might be time to go home. Surely the doctor would discharge her soon.
“It’s more than that,” Paul said. He wanted to tell her it was like she had left them, that her spirit had floated away in the fire and was never coming back.
Shelly was silent in the corner of the room. She was scared to talk, afraid it might break the spell that Sam was under. After so many weeks of suffering and sickness, could she really be back, without any aid from the doctors?
“What do you mean?” Sam asked.
Her face was flushed, skin glossy, but her eyes were bright with a light they hadn’t seen in weeks.
Sam turned to Shelly and frowned. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Shelly turned to Paul. Her eyes were tearing up, but a smile was erupting. She crept over to Paul’s side and clutched his arm.
“Sam, you were so sick,” Shelly said.
“Where’s my parents?” Shelly’s shoulders dropped. She could feel Paul’s hand go limp in hers. But Sam was there. She was Sam, but she still had no relocation of what had happened.
Sam was looking at Shelly clutching Paul’s hand. Why were they here and not her parents?
“Sam, there was a fire, and your mom and Daniel didn’t make it,” Paul said. Shelly was turning towards him for support, but he could barely hold himself up. He hoped this was the last time she would ever have to tell Sam, but the hope felt feeble.
“What?” Sam said. Her voice came out as a squeak and she could feel the nausea returning.
“After your mom died, you had a seizure, and ever since then you’ve been acting strange. You haven’t been able to remember anything.”
She was looking at Paul. Would she remember this conversation?
“What?” she said it again. Her voice wavered and she bit her lip. She had been in the hospital for a long time, that much she was sure of. She had vague memories of being in this bed with nurses coming in and out, but she was never sure why.
“You can come live with us,” Shelly said. Her voice was rushed, stumbling into each other.
“What about Avery?” she asked. Her hand was shaking, and she pulled it into her chest to try to conceal the movements. Shelly eyed her but didn’t say anything.
“Avery’s okay. She’s been visiting you as much as she could.”
The information came crashing down. Not one by one like waves, but all at once like a monsoon.
“Sam?” Paul let go of Shelly and walked towards her.
“My parents are gone?” she said. She took a breath. “And I don’t remember.”
She was holding the tears in. They screamed to be let out and to run free, but not once did she blink and let them go. Shelly looked on in horror and cried for her. She lost her daughter, and still every day it was like she lost her granddaughter. Today, she had her granddaughter, but with it came its own bought of pain.
Paul leaned down to Sam and wrapped her in his arms. She hugged him back, but she couldn’t stop herself from shaking. She couldn’t breathe, but she let Paul’s breath guide her. He smelled familiar, like oats, and she rested her chin on his shoulder. She clutched onto her grandfather; he was her guide.
“They’re gone,” she said.
Paul pulled away and Shelly stepped forward. Her arms were wrapped around herself, but Sam stood up from the bed and threw herself into Shelly’s arms.
“They’re both gone,” Sam said into the crook of Shelly’s shoulder. The tears flowed mighty and loud. With each blink and breath, Sam could feel them coming to surface. She wanted to pull away, to hide her tears from the world, but once one tear came, they all followed.
No one said anything as she cried. They didn’t say things would be okay, because they weren’t. “Sam?” The voice made them all lift their heads. Sam wiped her eyes when she turned to face the door, and there was Avery. Her figure was slight, and she held herself like she might fall at any moment, but she was there.
Sam took tentative steps forward but was stopped when she felt a tug on her IV—she’d reached the end of her line. Avery stepped closer until she was just an arm’s length away. Sam’s eyes were still wet with tears, but Avery’s were dry. She was dazed as she looked at Sam. Confused in the sort of way that came with waking up from a dream.
“You’re okay?” Sam said. She wanted to reach out and touch her to be sure, but the IV was like a leash.
Avery looked from Sam to Paul to Shelly. Shelly had her hand over her heart, like it was the only thing she could do to keep it still, while Paul had a tear running down his cheek, just for a moment before he was able to brush it away.
“What happened?” Avery asked, but she didn’t look at Sam. One glance at her and she knew something had shifted. The vacant look in her eyes was gone. Avery was waiting for Paul and Shelly to respond, but neither of them could find the words.
“Avery?” Sam said. She wanted to step closer to her, but she backed away slightly.
> “She seems okay,” Avery said.
Sam turned to look at Shelly and Paul, but they were both looking at each other, searching for words. No one would talk to her, but there she was, standing in the middle of the room. Her arms began to itch. She rubbed the palm of her hand across the top of her arm.
“Don’t do that, Sam.” Shelly stepped forward and pulled her arm away. She was examining the skin, but for now nothing had changed. Her skin was still dotted red.
“What’s wrong with her skin?” Avery asked, seeing the familiar red splotches on her arm.
“We aren’t sure,” Shelly said. She reached out to the bedside table. One of the nurses had left a jar of the cream they used on Sam’s arm. Shelly rubbed a small dab into Sam’s skin.
Avery looked on with curious eyes, but in all honesty, she wasn’t prepared to see Sam like this. She was ready to see the Sam that laid in bed and had small conversations with herself. She was ready for the Sam that listened to her talk and only interrupted to ask the same questions over and over. She wasn’t ready for someone who could really hear her. Coming once a week to someone who was physically there, but not mentally, became part of her routine. Come visit, pull up a chair. Talk and have Sam talk back but with her own conversation that didn’t make sense. Talk about stupid things that Avery knew Sam would forget as soon as she left the room. She’d time the visits to one hour exactly. Once the hour was up, she left, wondering only if Sam would remember she came to visit at all.
Avery didn’t have a hope. When her parents died she told herself Sam had as well. When she first began her visits, Avery looked for any sign of the old Sam, but eventually she came to think of Sam as another person. A friend that she made and felt obligated to visit but wasn’t quite sure why. If she was honest with herself, Avery had thought about stopping her visits. When she came to see Sam, she didn’t know who Avery was, so why put herself through visits that only end in heartbreak? Each time she stepped through the door she hoped Sam would recognize her, but she never did.
“Avery,” Sam said. She reached her fingers out and brushed them down Avery’s arm. She felt goosebumps across her skin as Sam touched her. It was like she was looking at a ghost.
Sam wanted to step closer, to close the distance between the two of them, but Avery held her ground and Sam was leashed in with her IV.
“What’s wrong?” Sam said.
Avery hadn’t realized her lip had started to quiver. Weeks ago, if the old Avery was standing there, she would have run into Sam’s arms, cried until she was out of tears, but instead this was the new Avery. This was the Avery with the dead parents. She had a sister that had disappeared and left her body behind, but now, seeing Sam standing in front of her—the real Sam—she knew she had come to think of Sam as dead as well.
“How?” Avery said. Her voice was shallow and she took another step away from Sam. Cry. She could cry, but she felt like it would be anything but happiness. She didn’t feel in control of herself anymore. She wanted to run at Sam, to scream at Sam. After all these weeks in the hospital, she was okay? It didn’t seem possible, couldn’t be possible, but there she was. How could she leave her alone for so long, to grieve without her, only to take all those emotions back weeks later?
Sam’s mouth hung open for a bit before she could respond. “I don’t know.” Her words came out shy, afraid. Avery’s voice was harsh, like she was accusing Sam of something, but she wasn’t sure what. She could see Avery folding in on herself and Sam watched on, unsure of how to help. Avery’s eyes spoke what her words could not. She looked in every direction of the room, like she was ready to run away the moment someone so much as brushed lint off their sleeve.
Paul looked up at Shelly and saw her frowning. It wasn’t the reunion they had hoped for. Sam backed away from Avery and came closer to them.
“I’m so sorry,” Sam said, but she wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for. Her voice was still timid, but it held a note of confidence that morphed into fear. Her heart broke for Avery, but it broke even more for herself, and for that she was ashamed.
“Why are you okay?” Avery said. The words snapped from her lips before she could think them through. She wanted to take them back, but another, larger part wanted to know why.
“I told you.” But Avery stopped her.
“No. Why are you okay? After all these months of losing person after person, why have you finally come back? I told myself you were gone. That was it. That girl in the hospital bed? That wasn’t you. But I still came back every week. I listened to you talk, and you listened to me, and none of it meant anything because the next time I saw you we’d be starting all over again.
“But I came back every week, and I knew you’d never be better and I was okay with that. I’ve been okay with our parents dying, and now I live with our grandparents and I’m okay. But now, now you’re okay and I have to do this all over again?”
She stopped because Shelly came up next to her and tried to put an arm around her. Avery pulled away and stepped closer to the door of the room.
“I’m not doing this again,” Avery said. “You’re okay now, but what happens if you disappear again. I’ve watched you come and go, like your body was sometimes occupied or vacant, and I don’t want to do it anymore.”
Sam couldn’t say anything. She was looking over Avery and how her hair was grown out almost to her elbows. Hadn’t she just gotten a haircut? Had much time had passed without her?
“What can I do?” Sam said, because there was nothing else she could say. How long had Avery been crying without her, for her?
There was a lost, empty feeling in Sam’s stomach. She was missing something, but she wasn’t sure what. Time had passed, and she wasn’t sure how much, but the world went on without her for too long. Damage had been done and she only hoped that her life could be pieced back together.
Avery looked at Sam and frowned. She wanted to have her sister back, to touch her and make sure she was really there, but every part of her told her not to believe it. Just because she was there now didn’t mean she would be there again tomorrow. All Avery could think about was coming in the hospital again next week and finding Sam lying in bed all over again, asking where their parents were because she couldn’t remember.
Chapter 32
It had become a habit for Randy to slip into Sam’s room at the end of his shifts. Sam would normally be asleep by the time he stepped into the room, but ever since Willow had injected her with the vaccine she’d been awake, almost always sick in some form. Not in any serious way, but enough that a nurse always seemed to be close by in case she needed medication to lower a fever or to put cream on a rash.
Jamie was at Sam’s bedside when he stood in the doorway.
“How is she?” he asked.
Jamie had her fingers wrapped around Sam’s forearm, brushing the skin lightly.
“Very well, actually,” Jamie said. She stepped to the side when Randy came in.
He lifted her arm and leaned down for a closer look. Sam’s skin was a smooth, a flushed pink. She would heal without scarring. There was a scratch closer to her elbow, but he was sure that would heal on its own as well.
“Now if only your grandparents were here to see this,” he said to Sam. She smiled back, watching Dr. Ash as he lowered her arm back to the bed and stepped away.
“Can I get up?” she asked. She wanted to get out of bed and stretch. She spent too much time lying in bed; it was starting to feel like an extension of her body, but they never let her go for walks down the halls.
“Not right now,” Jamie told her. It was the same response she always got when she asked to get up. She never said why or when she may be able to go for a walk, so Sam always made it a point to keep asking.
“If I can’t go for a walk on my own, can you go with me?” Jamie smiled but Sam could tell she was getting ready to give her some excuse as to why she still couldn’t leave her room.
“Actually, Sam, Jamie will be on her way out soon. Why don�
�t you take a walk with me?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jamie said, giving her a small wave before she went out the door. Sam watched after her before sitting up in bed.
“So, do you know why you haven’t been able to go for walks yet?” Dr. Ash asked.
“No,” Sam said. The nurses had been coming in to help her stretch, but it was rare she got to leave much farther than her room.
She didn’t have any shoes but she didn’t care. The socks on her feet were enough to keep her toes warm. She just knew she was ready to move and get away from her room for a while.
“There were a lot of reasons, but most of all we just didn’t know what to predict out of you. We had rather played it safe than sorry.” He pulled up her files from a clipboard that she hadn’t noticed had been resting on the table next to her bed. “But it looks like in the last twenty-four hours at least, you’ve been doing pretty good. How do you feel right now?”
“Cooped up,” she said.
Dr. Ash laughed and put the chart back down and disconnected the tubing from the IV bag that was hanging beside her bed.
“If you were well enough, we could have you walk with your IV.” He took Sam’s hand, wrapped delicately in tape, connecting the IV to her skin. “But we weren’t sure, with you being sick so suddenly and so easily, if you’d make it very far until you had to be brought back to your room.” He pulled the tape from her skin as painlessly as he could. “But today is your lucky day to get outside.” He pointed to the window across from Sam’s bed and as soon as she looked away he pulled the small flexible tubing from her skin, and just like that, she was free. He worked quickly to bandage her.
“We’re going outside?” Sam asked. She looked at Dr. Ash for confirmation before turning back to the window. She wasn’t sure what floor of the hospital she was on, but she was high enough that her only company was the tops of buildings and small puffs of clouds.
“Do you think you’re up for it?” he asked.
