PRESENT TENSE
Chapter Nine

 

Michelle woke Rose at three o’clock. After slipping on a single sneaker, Rose followed Michelle out to the parking lot.

Workers were already fixing the downed power lines, so it took about ten minutes to get out of the parking lot. The trip to the hospital was faster than before, though, because a lot of the debris had already been cleared. Although Southland had been hit hard, it was on more stable ground than Masline, and the damage was considerably less.

They reached the hospital just before 3:30. Rose hurried into the waiting room, arguing with Michelle the whole time.

"I’ll be back for you at four o’clock."

"Four o’clock! That only gives me half an hour! Make it 5:30."

"4:30."

"Who appointed you my mother? Five o’clock."

"Fine. I’ll see you then. I’m going to walk around and see what’s going on out there."

"Be careful."

"Yes, Mother."

Rose made a face at her and headed inside. The shower, food, and rest had improved her disposition considerably, although she was still terribly worried about Jack.

After waiting in line for a few minutes, Rose was able to ask after him.

"He’s having some tests run right now," the nurse told her, checking the now working computer. "You can go up and see him in about ten minutes."

"Is he in the same room?"

The nurse checked. "Room 603."

"Right." Rose sat quietly for a few minutes, then headed for the elevator.

She reached the room just as the doctor was on his way out. He stopped, rubbing his eyes tiredly, trying to place her.

"Dr. Rodriguez? Has there been any change?"

"You’re...Flora, right?"

"Rose."

"Rose." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I knew it had something to do with flowers. Yes, there has been some change. The brain swelling is starting to go down."

"Is that good?"

"Definitely. We still can’t be sure he’ll recover, but it is a step in the right direction."

"Has he shown any signs of waking up?"

Dr. Rodriguez shook his head. "I’m afraid not." He yawned.

"You should get some rest."

He shook his head. "Can’t. Not until seven. Though at the moment, I’d gladly exchange places with your friend there."

At Rose’s shocked look, he apologized. "Sorry. Bad joke. I’ve been working since four o’clock yesterday afternoon, and it’s never been so hectic. The earthquake and all. I think I’ll find some coffee."

Rose stopped him. "Is there anything I can do to help him?" She gestured to Jack.

He shook his head. "At this point, it’s mostly a matter of waiting. About all you can do is be there for him, though he probably won’t realize you’re there."

Rose nodded. "But the brain swelling is going down…"

"We aren’t certain how much, if any, brain damage there is, and his other injuries complicate matters a great deal."

Rose nodded slowly. She hadn’t thought about the possibility of brain damage. Depending upon it’s extent, it’s effects could range from minor to severe. He could be fine, with few or no problems, or he could wind up hopelessly crippled, either physically or mentally, or even wind up a vegetable.

She shuddered, trying to squelch the thought that he would be better off dead. Whatever happened, she would be there for him. But she knew that he would hate to live as a mental cripple, unable to care for himself or do the things he had once enjoyed. She thought that he was strong enough to find a way to overcome any physical limitations these injuries might bring, but it was much harder to overcome an injury of the mind.

Rose sighed, sitting down next to him. There was no guarantee that he would ever wake up, and, despite the problems that could arise, Rose desperately hoped that he would. Many people suffered head injuries with no lasting effects. She had had one herself two weeks earlier. Of course, she had only had a concussion, not a skull fracture, and she hadn’t wound up in a coma. But even if there was brain damage, it might not be too severe, and he might be able to learn to overcome it. She’d heard of people who’d had severe strokes or who had been shot in the head who had still managed to recover, for the most part.

Reaching for Jack’s hand, Rose stroked it gently, trying to convey to him that she was there. She had no idea if he could perceive things going on outside himself, but she had to try. Squeezing his hand, she spoke softly, quietly, telling him about the things going on around them, about Cal’s arrest, about Trudy’s death, about Mari and the jimsonweed, even about the folk music she was learning to appreciate. Anything and everything that she could think of.

After a while, Rose fell silent. Looking at him, she could see that someone had cleaned him up. When she had been there that morning, his face had been almost as dirty as hers, and had been prickly with a day’s growth of beard. Someone had bathed him and shaved him, working around the various equipment he was hooked up to and the bruises and contusions that covered his face and body.

Gently, Rose put her hand to his face. "I love you, Jack," she whispered, hoping that somehow he knew what she was saying. Holding his hand in both of hers, she tried to convey her love for him, and her hope that he would recover.

Propping up her foot, Rose settled back, maintaining her vigil, praying that he would recover. For the next hour, until Michelle returned for her, Rose held Jack’s hand, occasionally speaking quietly to him, other times trying to transfer her own energy to him, trying to heal him. But Jack never stirred.

Michelle finally returned at 5:30. Lugging four plastic convenience store bags, she made her way into the room.

"Rose."

Rose looked up, still holding Jack’s hand.

"How is he?"

"Dr. Rodriguez said the brain swelling is going down, but they still don’t know what his chances are."

"He hasn’t woken up?"

Rose shook her head. "No." She thought for a moment. "I want to stay here, with him. You go on back."

"Uh-uh. You’re coming with me."

"Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Telling me what to do."

"Because you’re my friend, and I know you well enough to know that when you get something on your mind, you won’t let go of it until it’s resolved. Who knows how long it will be until anything happens with him? You still look exhausted, and you need to eat and care for your injuries, and let the doctors and nurses take care of Jack. You won’t help him by hurting yourself, and I’ve got a bunch of things that can be put to good use back in the dorm."

"Where did you get all that, anyway?"

"I helped a convenience store owner clean up broken glass and fallen shelves. He gave me a bunch of stuff in return. I’ve got food—beef jerky, chips, canned fruit, candy, soda—even some cookies."

"Health food," Rose replied, a little sarcastically.

"High energy food, which is what people need at times like this. I’ve also got some first aid supplies—clean bandages for you and Mari, hydrogen peroxide, multi-vitamin supplements, Band-Aids, and some Tylenol. No more disinfecting wounds with mouthwash."

Rose half-smiled at this; she had already discovered that mouthwash on stitches stung badly. But she still didn’t want to leave Jack.

"I’ll bring you back here at eight o’clock tomorrow," Michelle promised her, "and you can get the hospital to call you if anything happens."

Rose finally nodded reluctantly; she was tired, and she couldn’t help Jack by sitting there and wearing herself out.

"All right." She got up, leaning on her crutches, and kissed Jack good-bye, promising him that she would be back.

Chapter Ten
Stories