You left me with goodbye and open arms,

A cut so deep I don't deserve

Chapter 5 – Sarah Went All Sleeping Beauty on Me

“Call nine-one-one!” A hotel crew yelled to the front desk lady.

Things happened so fast. My heart raced madly as I sprinted and knelt down beside Sarah. I checked her pulse. Nothing. Her chest wasn’t moving either. Blood dripped from the deep wound on the side of her head. I cursed in panic, starting to do thirty chest compressions before blowing twice on her mouth. Her mouth tasted of blood but I kept doing CPR. Cold sweat trickled from my temples.

“Sarah… Come on!” I yelled angrily after the third cycle. I pressed my fingers on the side of her neck. Still no pulse. “Damn  it, Sarah! Wake up!” I kept compressing and blowing onto her mouth, knowing I won’t stop until I revive her.

“We’ll take it from here,” said a middle-aged woman wearing a gray and blue scrub suit with Medic printed on the left breast pocket. A couple more in the same uniform came running to us carrying an emergency kit.

“She got no pulse!” I told the woman feverishly as she pressed a stethoscope against Sarah’s chest. My whole body was trembling. Something barbed stuck in my throat. “Sarah,” I choked.

The medic lifted her gaze to me and removed the stethoscope from her ears. “There is now,” she said before placing resuscitating mask on Sarah’s face and started pumping the bag attached to it. “Keep talking to her.”

I nodded. At this point, I’d do a cartwheel if she asked me to.

“Sarah! Wake up, please.” My voice started to break with the lump in my throat. In the corner of my eye, I saw Freddy and Emma rush to the street. “Sarah, listen to me. You can do this, okay? Please… breathe.”

As if she heard me, Sarah’s chest rose and fell. I waited for her to open her eyes but she didn’t. Soon, I heard the wail of the ambulance. People rushed into the street.

One of the medics who emerged from the ambulance shouted, “Clear the area, please!” as they carried a stretcher to our direction and transferred Sarah onto it.

“Oh God!” It was Emma who came rushing towards us, her wedding gown a tangle behind her. “What happened?” She was crying. So was I.

When I turned to face her, no words came from my mouth. Instead, I caught up with the medics carrying Sarah to the ambulance. “I’m coming with her!” I said.

“Are you a family member?” A male medic in his late twenties asked.

“I am!” Freddy jogged to the ambulance. He looked pale. And dead scared. “I’m her father.”

“I’m coming too!” I argued in panic when Dad caught my shoulders and pulled me back from the ambulance. “She needs me, Dad!” I yelled thrashing away from Arthur. Freddy talked to the medic for a little while then hauled himself into the vehicle.

“Leon, calm down for a minute,” Arthur said, preventing me from vaulting into the van.

“I can’t, Dad! Sarah!” I shouted as the hatch closed before the ambulance disappeared into the road, taking Sarah away from me. Dad finally let me go. I sagged on the sidewalk, cursing at myself as people began to go back inside the hotel.

A police car came. Two cops forced me into the hotel lobby. Dad was trying to calm Emma who was crying in a corner. As if he understood the graveness of the situation, Jer cried like a possessed demon baby in his stroller, banging his SpongeBob rattle against the harness buckle. One of the police men took my statement and asked me over and over again. I tried to give them all the details but honestly, I just couldn’t see the point. Sarah needed me. Now.

“I said, it was a black Benz. I’m not sure what model. And no, I didn’t see the plate number because it was running at about ninety but it has a dent on the left passenger door. The left lower tail light’s broken. I swear I’d recognize it if I see it again.”

The overweight one of the two officers chewed on his gum and shook his head before scribbling on his little notepad. He was holding back a smirk. I fought the urge to tackle him and beat his flabby face into pulp. There must be thousands of Benzes in Massachusetts that had dents on them or broken tail lights. Didn’t he think I know that?

Without thinking, I scrambled to my feet and jogged to the parking lot, ignoring the call from my Dad and the officers who were too out of shape to run after me. Getting arrested wasn’t on top of my to-do list, but I couldn’t care less. I reached my car—a blue Audi TT-S—and kicked the front tire angrily when I couldn’t fit the key into the hole in panic.

The alarm went on making me even more furious. “Shit!” I slammed a fist on the hood and wiped my eyes on the back of my hand. “This is just so messed up,” I croaked leaning on the car.

“Let me,” Dad took the key from my hand and opened the door. “You can’t drive like that. Take the shotgun seat.”

* * *

When we arrived at the hospital, Sarah was already in the operating room. Freddy sat on the bench just outside it, shoulders hunched. If he saw me coming, he didn’t let on. He just stared at the floor like the world had just fallen on him.

“How’s she?” I asked panting, hands on my knees.

He shook his head without lifting his gaze. “I don’t know. The doctor said that the head trauma isn’t that extensive but they can’t tell why she’s still unconscious.”

My lips quivered. I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes. I couldn’t think. Weakly, I sunk beside Freddy as Dad paced the hall. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let her go alone. I should’ve come with her. Damn it! Damn it!”

A middle-aged Asian nurse shushed me and said, “This is a hospital young man. If you can’t control yourself, we’ll be forced to ask you to leave.” So I just gripped on the chair tightly until my knuckles turned white.

Hours passed. I kept staring like a lost puppy at the glass panelled doors. Every second ticked like a time bomb. When I thought the operation won’t end, a stout male doctor around fifty came out. His nameplate read Dr. Mason McAllister, M.D. and many more letters I didn’t care about. Freddy stood up and came to the doctor’s office to talk about Sarah’s condition. I wanted to come. I wanted to know what happened to Sarah. But something in me was dead scared to hear everything so I practically froze on my seat.

Dad gave me a pat on the shoulder. “She’s a strong girl. She’ll get through this.”

Staring at the ceiling, I swallowed the lump in my throat, blinking my eyes. Minutes passed. What was taking them so long? I tapped my foot on the floor, breathing out until I felt dizzy. Freddy finally came out. He started filling in the details.

* * *

“Wear this,” said the blond ICU nurse, handing a dark-green robe to me. In another time, I’d have laugh like mad and tell her how ridiculous the visiting gown looked. But now, I couldn’t care less. I just wanted to see Sarah.

Feverishly, I speed-walked to the dressing room and threw the gown on. The nurse led me to a disinfecting chamber where we were fumigated with whatever it was that left a weird bitter taste in my mouth. I felt sick as I stepped in the unit.

Sarah was in bed, several probes attached to her chest and her left index finger. A bandage was secured around her head. The slow but steady beep from the heart monitor filled the air as she rhythmically breathed in and out with the aid of a respirator. Something wrenched in my chest. I swallowed hard, made my way to her side and sat there for a minute or two just looking at her pale face.

“Sarah…” I choked out and reached for her hand. “I… I’m sorry.” My voice broke, my hand trembling against her cold limp fingers when I recalled what Freddy told me.

“Doctor McAllister said she was stable. Tests confirmed no brain damage except for a minor contusion. But now she’s… she’s in a coma. And they can’t tell when she would wake up… If she would.” Freddy turned away from us, his shoulders shaking.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to compose myself. I won’t breakdown. Sarah won’t like that. I’d have to be strong… to be brave for her. Fumbling inside my pocket, I took out her necklace and looped it around her right wrist like a bracelet.

“Wake up, Sarah. We still haven’t gone to the theme park like you wanted.” I whispered close to her ear, managing a small smile even if I knew she couldn’t see me. Even if I was just dying. “I’d have won a huge stuffed animal for you and we’d have eaten lots of popcorn… Just like you wanted.” I trailed into silence, giving her hand a light squeeze as I waited for the answer that never came.

* * *

“Tell them I’m sick. Tell them I had a car accident and went into coma indefinitely. Tell them I’m on rehab. I don’t care! Just make something up!” I yelled on the phone as I paced the hospital hallway just outside Sarah’s room.

Moira let out a deep sigh from the other side of the line. “Leon, you’ve been gone for more than two weeks. The producers are threatening to sue you for breach of contract and if things get worse, this will affect your album promotion.”

“Then tell them I’m dead! Look, Moira. I can’t leave Sarah like this. Please…” I was desperate. Sarah was finally out of the ICU. All we’d been waiting for was for her to wake up. The doctors ran several tests but they couldn’t point out why she was still in coma. They said it might be self-imposed, due to emotional stress.

The thought just made me want to hang myself. I let Sarah down too many times. She’d been keeping all the hurt from me. And if there was someone to blame, it’d be me.

“Okay…” Moira’s voice sounded patient. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay, thanks,” I sighed.

When I looked around, Myrna, the middle-aged Asian head nurse stood in front of me, her arms crossed in front of her.

She raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Leonard, how many times have I told you to keep it down?”

I ran a hand over my hair and smiled wryly. “Uh… Do you really want me to answer that? Because I’ve lost count since the sixty-seventh time.”

Her eyes mellowed, giving me a fond smile. She told me not just once that she had a son about my age. But she had to leave him in the Philippines for work so she could send him to college. Myrna mentioned many times how she missed her son; that she had to be patient until she could go home and be with him.

All I could think of was, whoever her son is, he’s one lucky bastard.

“I’ve given all her meds for today. You’re brother’s having a fight with the remote. You might want to go in before things go boom. Again,” she said with a rueful smile before turning away.

“On it,” I darted into the room and found Nathan sprawled about the recliner, about to throw the remote to the TV screen.

I casually snatched from his hand and placed it as far away from him as possible. Living with him for almost two years had taught me a lot of lessons in life—one, I could deal pretty well with toddlers much easier than I would’ve thought and two, there’s nothing and I mean nothing Nathan couldn’t destroy.

He grunted. “I’m bored.”

I parked myself in my usual seat beside Sarah and started scanning through the TV programs.  At least, all the creepy beeping equipment was gone. She didn’t need those anymore. The doctor said she was just kind of sleeping, but we still didn’t know when she’d wake up. Oftentimes, me and Becky would include her in our conversations like she was actually listening. I hoped she was. Every single night that sleep avoided me, which was pretty much all the time, I’d kept staring at the ceiling wishing for a million times that it was me who’d been hit by that damned car instead of her. I’d trade places with her with a big grin on my face even if it could mean my life.

When I found Animal Planet, I tucked the remote under Sarah’s mattress where Nathan hopefully won’t find it.

“Yawn,” he said in a bogus attempt to annoy me. “I had no idea nerdiness is contagious.”

I snatched a banana from the fruit basket on the side table and hurled it to his head. Reflex. It hit him with a slight thump and fell on his lap. He smirked, flattened his blond dishevelled hair—not his natural hair color, he just wanted to imitate Dad’s hairstyle—before picking up the banana and started peeling it.

He took a bite and turned to Sarah. “You’re lucky she’s asleep. Or she’d have seen you throw like a girl.”

Asleep. That was the term they all used. For some reason, it was as if saying the word coma would’ve stirred the nation into chasing me with stakes and pitchforks. I gritted my teeth. Was there something I could do? Anything?

“Get lost, Nate. Go rot in a hole or something,” I muttered angrily, trying to focus on Meer Cat Manor.

Sarah loved that program. She loved that it was about family and protecting each other. When one of the meer cats died in a gang war, I knew she was about to cry when she blurted, “I—I need to… write an essay on Tesla versus Einstein,” before running off to the bathroom.

“Fat chance, mate,” Nathan said. “You’d be all mopey and weeping once I left you alone. I don’t want Nerdy to think that our lot’s made of snivelling girly blokes. And for the sixty-seventh time, quit calling me Nate.” He rolled his eyes, his round glasses hanging lopsidedly on his face.

Sixty-seven. I groaned at his favorite expression and realized I just used it when I talked to Myrna, the head nurse. Crud. This just in. Too much Nathan had rubbed off on me. About to go ballistic in… Three. Two. One.

“Nate sounds like a girl’s name. Only, that name starts with ‘K’,” he continued mumbling to himself.

As much as I didn’t want to strangle my twin brother, being near him could probably get me to jail so I stood up and stomped out of the room muttering, “I’ll be back. Try to break anything and I swear I’ll—“

“I know, I know. You’d force me to do macaroni art and make me recite All Things Bright and Beautiful while facing the wall. Boohoo! I’m shaking already. So grab some chips for me when you come back, yes?” With that, he turned to the TV, folding his arms over his annoying blond head.

As I walked out of the hospital and into the parking lot, I stared on the floor thinking about Officer Perkin’s lead report yesterday.

“Looks like the car’s rented. We’re covering all car rentals in Hopkinton area but some of them are holdin’ out customer info,” said the middle-aged blond officer shaking his head. “You know how it is. But son, I’m going to tell you that were not crossin’ out the possibility that this might be intentional. And if my hunch is correct, this one’s pretty good in cleaning up his tracks.”

“Or her tracks,” I muttered absently and the officer nodded.

Only one person came to mind. Actually, two. One was Camilla Downing. But killing people wasn’t very much her style. She was more of a sue and kidnap type. Then that left only one.

Megan.

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So can you guess who the real culprit is? Oh, Oh... But I'm not telling, yet. Please keep supporting The Leon Walden book by voting, commenting and telling your friends about it. Pretty please? If there's something bugging you, leave a message. I'd forever be grateful! See you in 3 days!

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