PRESENT TENSE
Chapter Seven

They found Mari limping around the waiting room, looking for Michelle. Her cut foot had been stitched and bandaged, but she didn’t have any crutches. Instead, she walked around on her heel, leaving the rest of her foot in the air.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, hurrying over to Michelle. "I’ve been looking all over the place for you—" She noticed Rose, moving slowly after Michelle on her crutches. Mari’s mouth dropped open as she took in Rose’s disheveled appearance. "Jesus! What happened to you? Earthquake? Staircase? Fiancé?"

"The first and the last," Rose told her wearily. "Are you psychic or something?"

Mari shrugged as they headed over to the front desk. "Maybe. My mom is psychic sometimes."

"All mothers are psychic," Michelle interjected. "My mom lives in Miami, and she still knows when I do something I shouldn’t."

Rose quickly explained the situation to the nurse, who agreed to page her if there was any change. Satisfied, but still worried, Rose followed her roommates out the door.

"No, really," Mari was saying. "My mom can be psychic sometimes. She knows when things are about to happen. She called yesterday saying she had a weird feeling about something, and then the earthquake struck. We’re just lucky our house is up in the hills, since the Lake Perris dam broke. We’ve still got a house."

"She was probably just worried that you were going to try another weird herbal concoction and poison yourself again. She couldn’t have known about the earthquake."

"I think she did. Some people do, and so do a lot of animals."

They had reached Michelle’s car. Michelle and Mari got into the front seat, while Rose crawled into the back and tried to stretch out.

"So, you’re saying your mother is a dog, then?"

"Don’t insult my mother!"

Rose leaned her head against the door, listening to them bicker. Half of her tried to concentrate on their conversation; it was easier than paying attention to her own thoughts. The other half wished they would shut up.

Mari went on. "You sound like that stupid doctor. ‘Don’t use any herbal preparations.’"

Rose half sat up in the back seat. "Your reputation precedes you."

A week earlier, Mari had incorrectly identified a plant that she had been studying in botany class and had tried to use some of it as a tea. The plant had turned out to be jimsonweed, a toxic plant that, fortunately, was rarely fatal. However, Mari had been quite affected by its psychotropic properties and had wound up in the emergency room. Her medical file had still been at the emergency room when the earthquake struck.

Mari turned around to look at her. "You don’t have to be so bitchy."

"I’m being bitchy?"

"You didn’t cut your foot open on broken glass."

"No, I just sprained my ankle under a fallen light pole."

"What are you doing here, anyway? Couldn’t you take care of that at home?"

"I refuse to answer that on grounds that you’re incapable of understanding."

"What?! Try me."

"No."

"Rose, you stupid—"

"Why don’t both of you shut up?" Michelle suggested. "You’re giving me a headache. Maybe I should just let you walk the two blocks left to the dorm."

"No!" Rose and Mari shouted in unison.

"Then be quiet."

"Fuck you," Rose mumbled sullenly, leaning back against the door and propping her ankle up on the opposite window.

"Yeah," Mari agreed, examining her bandage.

Michelle put on the brakes.

"Don’t even think about it," Mari told her, scowling. "Or I’ll make you help me disinfect my foot with mouthwash."

"Mouthwash?!" Now Michelle and Rose were shouting in unison.

"Didn’t they give you any disinfectant?"

"No. They asked if I had anything to disinfect it with, and I asked if mouthwash would work, and they said yes, so I didn’t get any. They’re running short on supplies, anyway."

"Maybe the campus health clinic will have some disinfectant."

"They’re busy taking care of the victims of that dorm collapse."

"Nevertheless..."

"I guess I’ll have to use mouthwash, too," Rose said, as Michelle parked the car.

"On your ankle?" Mari asked, confused.

"On my arm." Rose pulled back her tattered sleeve to reveal the bandage. "A piece of concrete landed on me and Jack."

"Jack?" Mari raised her eyebrows. "What did Cal have to say about that?"

"’I hope you enjoy your time together!’" Rose mimicked. "That was after he’d shot him in the back."

"And you wanted to marry this guy."

"It’s over. And I’ve already spent enough time berating myself and listening to Michelle lecture me about my stupid fiancé. I don’t need your input."

Michelle intervened before they could fight again. "Everyone is stressed out and overtired. Let’s just go upstairs."

"Fine." Rose clumsily made her way to the door. It was dim inside; the power was still out. Fortunately, it was a bright, sunny day, so there was still adequate light.

"We have to take the stairs," Michelle informed them, heading for the stairwell. Mari and Rose limped after her, grumbling about having a room on the third floor.

Rose was ready to collapse by the time she reached the third floor. The crutches dug into her injured ribs as she climbed the stairs, and climbing was clumsy with them anyway. Two flights of stairs had never seemed so long.

"Rose?" Mari said as they reached the door.

"Yeah?" Rose wanted to avoid another fight.

"I’m sorry I was such a bitch. Is Jack okay?"

Rose shook her head. "He’s in a coma. That’s why I wanted the hospital to call me if there was any change. He was in shock from blood loss, and he got hit on the head with the concrete. They said...they said the prognosis is very poor." Her voice was choked. "I’m going back this afternoon."

Mari shook her head sympathetically. "I hope the doctor is wrong, Rose. I hope he gets better. He seems like a nice guy—I think you’d do better with him than with Cal."

Rose sank down on her bed, elevating her ankle. "You’re right. I ended the engagement last night—which led to all this."

"Jack came by here about a week and a half ago, looking for you. I guess he found you."

"He did. And I sent him away." Rose cursed herself for wasting so much time.

"Why?"

"I felt that the only way my relationship with Cal would work out was by avoiding Jack." Rose put up her hand before Mari could ask any questions. "Yes, it has something to do with the ‘staircase’. I’d rather not discuss it, though. At least not now."

Mari nodded, and then looked at her. "I think right now you need to get some rest. You look ready to collapse."

"I feel ready to collapse. I just have to do a few things first." She looked at Michelle. "Can I borrow your cell phone real quick? I need to try to call my mother and tell her where I am."

"Sure." Michelle handed it to her. "Just don’t talk too long. I have no way of recharging the battery."

Rose quickly turned the power on and punched in her home phone number, hoping that her mother’s phone was still working.

Ruth answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Mom? It’s Rose."

"Rose! Thank God. I was so worried...where are you?"

"I’m at the dorm."

"How did you get there? I thought your car was destroyed."

"It was. I was taken by helicopter to Memorial Hospital late last night."

"Memorial Hospital?" Ruth’s voice was filled with worry.

"I’m okay, Mom. I just have a sprained ankle and a cut on my arm. I’ll heal."

"Well, you’ll need to stay in Southland for a while. Most of the roads are impassable."

"It’s okay. I was planning on that anyway."

Ruth wondered at the catch in Rose’s voice, but didn’t question her further. She had other news to impart.

"Rose, I’m afraid I have some very bad news."

Rose’s heart pounded with anxiety. "What is it, Mom?"

"Sophie came by here this morning, looking for you. Apparently she was home from college for the weekend, and Trudy was visiting. They were leaving when the earthquake struck, and the big pine tree in Sophie’s front yard fell on her car. Trudy was sitting in the passenger seat at the time, and you know that that convertible offered no protection. Sophie had gone back to get something she forgot, but Trudy was right in the path of the tree. Sophie hurried back as quickly as she could, but it was already too late." At Rose’s shocked gasp, she tried to comfort her. "Sophie thinks that Trudy was probably killed instantly. She didn’t suffer."

Rose’s mouth snapped open and shut, unable to form any words for a moment. Trudy, her best friend, was dead. The young girl with the sparkling eyes, perpetual smile, and endless optimism had fallen victim to the earthquake.

"Rose, are you still there?"

Rose finally found her voice, though it quavered a bit. "Yeah, Mom, I’m still here. Is Sophie still over there?"

"No, she left a while ago and went home. Everyone in her family is okay."

"That’s something, I guess." Rose turned her back on her roommates, who were watching her curiously. As she sniffed and wiped at her eyes, Ruth went on.

"I have more bad news."

"Oh, God." Rose didn’t know how much more she could stand. "What is it, Mom?"

"Cal’s been arrested."

"Thank God!"

"Rose!" Ruth sounded shocked. "How can you rejoice over something like that?"

"He tried to kill me last night, Mom."

"He did not!"

"Yes, he did! How would you know? You weren’t there!"

"I simply cannot believe that a man like him would be capable of murder."

"Believe it, Mom. He is."

"I don’t believe you."

"He tried to shoot me. He might have succeeded if Jack hadn’t gotten in the way."

"Jack?"

"You remember him, Mom. He’s called a few times, and he stopped by once in April to drop off the bridesmaid’s dress that Helga made for me."

"What were you doing with Jack?" Ruth’s voice had a suspicious edge to it.

"I was walking down the street."

"And Cal suddenly pulled out a gun and shot at you."

"No, we got into an argument first. Cal had tried to frame Jack for stealing the engagement ring after I gave it back to him."

"You gave it back?!"

"I ended the engagement, Mom."

"You shouldn’t have done that."

Rose reminded herself to count to ten before continuing. "Do you have any idea how he treated me, Mom? No, of course you wouldn’t, because he always behaved like a perfect gentleman in front of you. In private, he had a quick temper and even quicker fists. I’ve had more bruises in the past year than I had the whole time I was a child."

"If he hit you, Rose, I’m sure there was a good reason for it."

Rose’s mouth fell open in shock, but she managed to reply. "There’s never a good reason."

"Rose, I don’t mean to point fingers, but you can be a handful sometimes. He probably felt it was necessary."

"I’m sure he did. But he was still wrong. Breaking off the engagement is the smartest thing I’ve ever done."

"Well, Rose, it’s up to you. But if you break things off with him, you’ll no longer be living in my house."

"That’s fine, Mom. I’ve got a place to stay."

"You’ll be done with school in a few weeks. Where will you go then?"

"Jack’s house. It’s very low rent."

"So, you expect him to support you?"

"I plan on finding a job. I’ll do whatever I have to, even go on welfare if I must. But I will not marry Cal."

"The wedding is six weeks away!"

"The wedding is never!" Rose took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Cal is one of the most vicious, unprincipled individuals I have ever met. Not just with me, but with anyone. He cut corners on building projects to raise profits for himself, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of people. He tried to frame Jack for a crime he did not commit. He’s beaten me repeatedly, and worse. He shot Jack, and nearly shot me. Now Jack is in a coma, and might not survive."

"People do strange things when they’re upset," Ruth told Rose, an edge to her voice. "You need to learn to be more forgiving."

"More forgiving?!" The previous night’s conversation with Cal suddenly came to the front of her mind. You want to forgive me? I’m the one who should be forgiving you. She had forgiven Cal repeatedly for his behavior, and he had hurt her for it every time. Forgiveness had its limits.

"He’s a good man."

"Mom, have you heard a word I’ve said? He’s a vicious bastard. I would rather starve to death than spend one day with him." Her hands were shaking so hard that she could barely hold onto the phone. "I hate him. The only reason I want to see him again is to testify against him in court. I hope he rots in prison." Her voice was rising. Someone in the next room shouted at her to shut up and banged on the wall. "Good-bye, Mother."

Rose broke the connection and turned off the power. Shaking with grief and rage, she tossed the phone back to Michelle. How could her mother act like this? How could she defend Cal’s attempt to kill her? She was glad she had kept quiet about the events of that Sunday morning two weeks earlier. Her mother would undoubtedly have condemned her for that, too.

She was almost glad that her mother planned on throwing her out. She couldn’t live with her. Rose got up, trying to calm herself. Whether Jack lived or not, she was still moving into his house. Tommy would allow it, at least for a while—if he was even still alive.

How many friends would she have to lose? Trudy was dead, and Jack had little hope of survival. Who else had been hurt or killed? And Cal—Cal would probably get a slap on the wrist, if that much. He might even come after her again.

Rose opened the small closet and dug through her box of clothes, pulling out a clean pair of jeans and a top. She needed to change out of her filthy, bloodstained dress.

Rose turned to see her roommates staring at her. "What are you looking at?" she snapped, trying to calm her temper. She was furious, exhausted, worried, and grieving, and she did not want to be looked at.

"Are you okay, Rose?" Mari asked her.

Rose lost her composure. "No!" she wailed, bursting into tears again. It seemed like all she did these days was cry. "My best friend is dead and my mother thinks my ex-fiancé is an angel."

The person on the other side of the wall knocked again. Rose just cried harder. Dropping her clothes on the floor, she fell facedown across her bed, crying hysterically.

Her roommates looked at her a bit uncomfortably. After a moment, when Rose had calmed down a little, Michelle finally spoke up.

"Why don’t you go take a shower and change your clothes? The hot water is broken, but you would probably feel better clean."

Rose sat up, struggling to compose herself. Michelle was right; she probably would feel better. She needed to rest, too, and maybe eat something.

Sliding off her bed, she collected her scattered clothes, and pulled another box out from under the bed. Rummaging through it, she picked out shampoo, soap, everything she needed to get clean.

She suddenly swore under her breath as she picked up another item—her packet of birth control pills. She had completely forgotten about them. Suddenly glad that she had made a habit of leaving most of them in the dorm, she dug one out of the foil and swallowed it. She was three and a half hours late in taking it, but she hoped it wouldn’t make a difference. With all the turmoil in her life, the last thing she needed was to get pregnant. Still, she wasn’t sorry for what she and Jack had done the evening before, even if it did leave her in a worrisome position.

Rose collected her crutches and started out of the room. It was difficult to carry everything and lean on the crutches at the same time, but she managed. As she reached the door, Mari suddenly called to her.

"Here. You might need this." She tossed Rose a small keychain flashlight. "There’s no light in the bathroom, and this is the only flashlight any of us has. You don’t want to break your neck in there."

At the moment, Rose wasn’t so sure about that, but she took the flashlight anyway, wobbling precariously out the door and down the hall.

The restroom was deserted when she got there. Despite the pitch blackness, Rose was glad to be alone. She needed time to think, apart from the noise of other people.

Rose shuddered as she stepped under the cold water. She wished there was hot water; she would have liked to soak her ankle. Still, the cold water numbed it a little, and Rose leaned against the wall for a few minutes, letting the cold clear her mind.

Why did everything happen? she wondered. Why did the earthquake have to happen now, when life is finally looking up for me? In the course of a few short hours, her entire world had come crashing down.

Rose put her head under the spray, forcing back tears. She was tired of crying. But it was hard not to, when everything had gone so horribly wrong.

Her best friend was dead. Rose rested her head against the wall, clutching the bar of soap so tightly it slipped from her hand and dropped to the floor with a thud. Why did it have to be Trudy? she wondered. Trudy was only eighteen; her nineteenth birthday would have been in September. She remembered her friend’s bright smile and giggles. Everything amused her, even things that Rose didn’t always find funny. Trudy could find a silver lining in the darkest cloud. Rose had no doubt that Trudy would have found some good in Cal, even if she had known him as well as Rose had. It was just the way she was. Rose winced, realizing that she hadn’t spoken to Trudy since the wedding—and now she never would.

She sank to her knees, searching for the soap on the shower floor. Finding it, she sat under the cold water, still thinking.

Why did it always seem to be the best and brightest that the world had to offer that suffered? She had heard an old saying, that the good die young, and maybe it was true. Rubbing her ankle gently, Rose thought about Jack.

He was one of the nicest people she had ever met, despite his troubled past, and was a talented artist who could see people for what they really were. Now, he lay in intensive care at Memorial Hospital, fighting for his life. He might never wake up, never draw another picture, or look out over a beautiful sight, or whirl her around crazily, laughing the whole time. He was the first person she had ever loved so deeply, and, she suspected, the last. Whatever happened, whether he lived or died, she would never feel quite the same way about anyone else. This was different than the crushes she had had in school, different from what she had felt for the one steady boyfriend she had had before Cal. There was a depth to these feelings that she had never known before, and Rose was glad that she had told Jack how she felt, glad that he returned her feelings.

She would be there for him, until he recovered, or until he died. And whatever happened, she wouldn’t give up. She wouldn’t attempt to jump off another staircase landing, or anything else. She was stronger than that now. She would go on, and, as Jack had once commented to her, "make it count."

Rose shook her head, contemplating the unfairness of everything that had happened, then allowed herself a small smile. At least Cal had been arrested. Maybe there was justice in the world. She pictured Cal’s reaction to being arrested, almost laughing as she thought of it. He was undoubtedly furious, but it was about time he was taken down a notch or two.

Slowly, Rose got up, shivering, and shut off the water. There might be broken water mains in Southland, so she shouldn’t waste the water. Limping, she picked up her towel and switched on the tiny flashlight.

I do feel a little better, she thought, as she peered into the mirror. She certainly looked better, with the dirt and soot washed away. Her eyes were still a bit red, and there were still dark circles under them, but she no longer looked like a horror movie victim.

Rose dressed quickly and made her way back to the dorm room. She had forgotten to bring shoes, but with her ankle still so swollen, she could only have worn one of them anyway. She had re-wrapped her ankle, and re-bandaged the cut on her arm, which she hoped would not get infected. She only had one bandage for her arm, so she had washed it out and re-used it. Not the cleanest thing to do, but the only option she had at the moment.

Her roommates were sitting on the floor when she returned, rummaging through the miniature refrigerator that Mari had brought from home. Michelle patted a spot on the floor when she saw Rose.

"We’re cleaning out the refrigerator. With no power, all our food will rot unless we eat it right away. You can help us."

Rose didn’t have much of an appetite, but she realized that she needed to eat. Tossing her belongings into her box, she lowered herself to the floor beside them. Mari handed her a slice of cold pizza left over from the previous evening and a small carton of milk that one of them had brought from the eating area.

Rose ate mechanically, not really tasting the food. Mari and Michelle chattered amiably, eating everything they thought might be perishable. Rose half-listened, feeling her eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

"Rose? You want the last slice of pizza?" Mari asked her, offering her the food. Rose shook herself, trying to pay attention.

"No," she mumbled sleepily. Michelle looked at her sternly.

"You need to eat more, Rose."

"Well...maybe I could finish off those canned peaches you left in there."

By the time she was finished eating, she could barely keep her eyes open. Holding onto her bed to support herself, Rose climbed on top of it and covered herself with the afghan her grandmother had made for her.

In minutes, she was asleep.

Chapter Eight
Stories