A Long Way from Home (11 page)

Chapter 25

Eli continued to stare at Colin and Leah, a stunned look on his face.

“We needed a ride to Corner Brook,” Leah said lamely.

Eli shook his head. “All I needs now.” He glared at Leah. “Bet Aunt Flo don't know where you're to.” He shifted his gaze to Colin. “And Colin, my son, I'm surprised at you. What if the airport calls while you're here? Planes could leave any time now. Yeh mother's probably worried sick.”

“I left a note for Aunt Flo.” Leah explained.

Eli sighed. “I'll drop you off at Debbie's.”

“Mom's working,” Leah said. “She gets off work in…” She glanced at her watch, “…in about an hour.”

“All right,” Eli said, “I'll drop you off at the hospital.”

Colin's heart began to beat faster. If things went as planned, he'd see Dad soon.

Half an hour later, Eli pulled the truck in front of the hospital's main entrance. “I'll call Debbie,” he said. “Let her know you're here. Wait in the cafeteria.”

After Uncle Eli drove off, Leah glanced at her watch. “We have about forty-five minutes,” she told Colin. “Mom's friend works in the gift shop. She might know something.”

Leah led Colin through the hospital's main entrance, and straight to the gift shop. A woman in a pale blue uniform was dusting glass display cases. “Leah?” she said. “Debbie said you weren't coming this weekend.”

“There…uh…there's been a change of plans.” Leah looked at Colin. “Colin, this is Mom's friend Paula.”

“Hi, Colin.” Paula gave him a warm smile.

“Pleased to meet you, ma'am,” he said.

“Anything I can help you with?”

“Mom told me about the man the police brought here on Wednesday evening,” Leah said, fishing for information.

Paula shook her head, sadly. “Poor fellar. None of his family came to visit.”

Colin felt terrible.
I'm coming to visit you now, Dad
, he promised silently.

“At least he's out of the intensive care unit and down to the third floor now,” Paula said. “That's a good sign, anyway.”

Colin and Leah exchanged glances.

A customer came into the shop and Paula went to see if he needed help. Leah grabbed Colin's hand and pulled him outside. “He's probably in the room across from the nurses' station,” she said.

“How do you know that?”

“Mom said whenever patients leave the ICU they put them near the nurses' station so they can keep a close eye on them.” She led Colin to a bank of elevators. “Let's go find out.”

The elevator stopped at the third floor and they got off. At this early hour the corridor was empty. “I'll wait here,” Leah said, taking a seat on an upholstered bench.

Colin crept down the hallway until he came to a horseshoe-shaped desk. A nurse was reading a chart. Across from the desk was room 312. The nurse didn't look up as Colin sneaked past. Heart pounding, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. The curtains were drawn and the room was dim, but Colin could make out tubes and bags hooked to the man in the bed. He approached quietly, and put his a hand on the man's shoulder.

The patient opened his eyes and stared at Colin, fear etched on his face. “Agggh!” he cried out, flinging his arms.

It's not Dad,
Colin realized, backing away.
I'm in the wrong room.
The man continued to yell.

A nurse charged into the room. “What's going on?” she demanded, rushing to the patient's side.

“He's not Dad,” Colin said, stupidly.

He was backing out of the room when an orderly came in. “Everything okay?” he asked, his eyes darting from Colin to the nurse. The patient had quieted down, but was clutching the blankets, terrified.

The nurse glared at Colin. “Call security,” she told the orderly.

“I went into the wrong room,” Colin told Sam, the aging security guard sitting across from him. He had been ushered from the hospital room like a criminal. Now, he and Leah sat in a small office waiting for Leah's mother.

“Who were you looking for?” Sam's blue eyes bore into Colin.

“William Erickson. My father. He was brought here by the police on Thursday.”

“Only one man was brought here by the police,” the guard said, patiently. “The one you just nearly scared to death.”

“You mean…” Colin paled as the guard's words sank in.

“There's no William Erickson registered at this hospital, son.”

Colin stared at him.
Had he come all this way for nothing? But where was Dad? He should have arrived in Newfoundland on Wednesday.

A knock at the door startled him.

“Please, come in,” Sam said.

Leah's mom stepped into the room, wearing a white sweater over her uniform, her dark hair pinned back from her face. “Leah, for heaven's sake,” she said. “What's going on? First, Eli calls saying you stowed away in his truck. Now this.”

“I'm sorry, Mom,” Leah said. “I was helping Colin look for his dad.”

Debbie shook her head, her gaze falling on Colin. “Colin,” she said, her tone softening, “why would you think your father is here?”

Colin couldn't speak. He had expected to find Dad here. The disappointment was like a slammed door.

Debbie turned to Sam. “I'm sorry about this,” she said. “Are they free to go?”

Sam shrugged. “Okay by me.”

Debbie stood up. “Let's go to the cafeteria,” she said, “and try to sort this out.”

Colin and Leah followed her down the hallway to the elevators. “Why did you think you'd find your father in Mr. Cooper's room?” she asked Colin.

“I'm sorry I upset him,” Colin said, his voice trembling. He told her about the phone calls he'd made to New York the morning after the attack. “Dad was in New York, yet Mom let me believe he was still in Kenya.” Colin toyed with the zipper on his jacket. “Later, I found out Dad was on his way to Newfoundland to be with us. He didn't show. When I found out about the man the police brought here, I figured he was Dad. Scar on his left leg, the same hair color — everything.”

The elevator doors slid open, and they got on. “You never discussed
any
of this with your mother?” Debbie asked.

“No,” Colin admitted, feeling foolish. “But she kept things from me, too.”

Debbie shook her head. “There could've been a dozen reasons why your mom didn't tell you about your dad. It would've been wise to talk to her before coming here.”

“That was partly my fault,” Leah said, lowering her eyes. “I discouraged him from talking to his mother.”

Debbie gave her daughter a curious look. “Why would you do that?”

“I thought she was keeping things from Colin. The way you and Aunt Flo kept things from Brent and me after Dad died.”

Debbie stared at her.

“I had to find out from Jenny Payne what happened to him.”

The elevator stopped. “We were trying to protect you,” Debbie said, as they stepped out into the hallway. She shook her head sadly. “I guess that was wrong. And to be honest, I don't know if it was you I was trying to protect, or myself.”

“I should have talked to Mom,” Colin said.

Debbie handed him her cell phone. “It's not too late. Call her. She knows you're here, but I'm sure she'd appreciate hearing from you. And you can tell her you'll be back late tonight. Eli said he was leaving here this evening and would take you back to Gander with him.”

“Thank you,” Colin said, accepting the phone.

“We'll meet you in the cafeteria.”

Colin punched in his mother's number.

“Colin, thank God,” she said when she answered. “I've been worried sick.”

“I'm sorry I worried you, Mom,” he said. “I came here hoping to find Dad.” He told her about the phone call to Ed Nestor.

“Your father's in New York, Colin. On special assignment. He
was
planning to come for us, but then he was asked not to leave because of everything that was happening. I didn't tell you he'd returned from Kenya because I thought it would be a nice surprise when you got home.”

Colin felt a wave of relief. His dad was safe. He would see him shortly. “Eli is leaving this evening. He says I can ride back with him.”

“Let's hope you get here before the airport calls. Some planes have left already.” Catherine sighed. “Colin, do you really believe if your father was lying in a hospital I wouldn't go see him? Do you think I'd keep something like that from you?”

“Well…you and Dad haven't been getting along.”

“True,” she agreed, after a long pause. “But things are about to change.”

Change
. “Why is that?” Colin asked anxiously.

“We'll talk about it when we get home.”

“Right,” Colin muttered. But his dad was safe. He would see him soon. That was all that mattered right now.

Chapter 26

“Mama,” Rabia whispered, inching closer to the hospital bed. “Mama? Can you hear me?”

Mama's eyes fluttered open, briefly. She had been moved from the intensive care unit, but she was bound to the bed by tubes and monitors. She looked so small and frail against the hospital sheets that Rabia had to blink back tears.

A nurse, who had been standing by the window filling in a chart, came to stand by the bed. “Your mother should be out of here in a week,” she said. “She's doing really well. It was only a mild attack, not nearly as bad as we first thought.”

Rabia felt a surge of relief. Nothing was more important than Mama's health. It was as if a weight attached to her own heart had suddenly been cut loose. “Did you hear, Karim?” She whispered. “Mama is going to be all right.”

Mama's eyes opened again, and she stared at Rabia. Rabia squeezed her hand. “Everything is going to be fine, Mama.” Her mother's lips moved. “What is it, Mama?” Rabia asked, leaning toward her.

Mama's voice was so soft, she had to strain to hear. “Thank you, Rabia.”

“For what, Mama?”

“You are a good daughter.” Mama's voice was weak. “I always thought it would be my sons…my sons who would take care of me. But daughter, you are brave and courageous.”

“Oh, Mama,” Rabia said, holding back her tears.

“I do not know,” Mama continued, “how I could have managed…without you. Your…father would be very proud.”

Rabia could no longer hold back her tears. She had waited all her life for her mother to say something like this. Mama's words meant so much to her. She felt as if she had been handed a precious gift.

“You should go now,” the nurse told them. “Your mother needs her rest.”

“I will come back and see you again, Mama,” Rabia said, tucking the blankets around her. She reached for her brother's hand.

Kevin stood up when Rabia walked into the lobby. “What's wrong?” he asked, concern clouding his face. “Is your mother okay?”

“Mama will be fine,” Rabia said. “She will have to stay here for a week.”

“That's not long, sure,” Millie said. “Not for someone who suffered a heart attack.”

“Your caseworker called a few minutes ago,” said Kevin. “Called the front desk. She wants you to phone her back.” He pointed to a payphone on the wall. “Use the one over there.”

Kevin dialed the operator and told her he wanted to make a collect call. After rattling off Fatima's number, he handed the receiver to Rabia.

Fatima picked up on the first ring. “Hello, Fatima,” Rabia said in Dari.

“Rabia, I am glad you called. I'm so sorry to hear about your mother. How is she doing?”

Rabia explained that Mama would be in the hospital for another week. “The planes will be gone then.”

“Don't worry about that, Rabia,” Fatima said. “As soon as your mother is able to travel, we will take care of your tickets. You are our responsibility now. I do not want you fretting about such things.”

Rabia closed her eyes, a wave of relief washing over her; it was one less thing to worry about. But there was something else, and she might as well ask about it right now. “Fatima,” she said, “I heard that the relief organization is Christian. Will we be able to practice our faith in America?”

“Of course,” Fatima said. “I am free to practice my faith any way I choose. The people who run this organization only want to help people have a better life.”

“I am so glad to hear that, Fatima.”

“But Rabia,” Fatima said, and Rabia could hear the concern in her voice. “This is not a good time to be a Muslim in America.”

Rabia swallowed, waiting for her to continue.

“People are angry,” Fatima said. “They blame us for the destruction of the World Trade Center. People are afraid of us.”

“I heard on television that they have threatened Muslims,” Rabia said quietly. “They have attacked mosques.”

“They are judging all of us by the actions of extremists.” Fatima paused as if considering what to say next. “People will get over this, Rabia. They need time.”

“Yes,” Rabia agreed, but she could not help worrying.

“Let me know how your mother is doing,” Fatima said before she signed off.

“Yes, I will,” Rabia agreed. “Good-bye, Fatima. Thank you.”

“Everything okay?” Millie asked when Rabia got off the phone.

“Fatima said not to worry about the plane.”

“There now, you see, my love? That's good news.”

Rabia nodded. She looked at Millie and sighed. “I wish we could stay here…in Canada.”

Millie met her gaze. “Why is that, my dear?”

“Americans…they do not like us. They do not understand.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They attack mosques…” Rabia searched for the right English words. “In Canada it is different. People understand.”

Millie stared at her a long moment before she spoke. “Don't yeh think Kevin understands your situation?”

Rabia glanced at Kevin, who had been listening to their conversation. He gave her a small, sad smile. Why was Millie asking her this?
Of course, Kevin understands. Next to Father, Kevin is the kindest man I know.

“Kevin's from Boston,” Millie said. “Came from the States in 1996.We got married the following year.”

It took Rabia a moment to realize what Millie was saying. “Kevin is American?”

Millie laughed. “Can't yeh tell by the funny way he talks?”

Rabia felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She was horrified. She had insulted Kevin who had been so good to her. He and Millie had taken her into their home. What must he think of her? She felt so ashamed she could not even look at him. And worst, she had assumed that
all
Americans were against her. Only minutes ago, she had been trying to understand why Americans assumed
all
Muslims were terrorists.

“Sorry,” Rabia mumbled, her face burning. She forced herself to look at Kevin, but could not quite meet his eyes. She saw his mouth crinkle into a smile.

“All Americans are not plotting against you,” Kevin said. “People are upset. They are looking for someone to blame. But remember, for every American who rejects you, there will be about ten more who will like you just as much as we do.”

Rabia met his gaze. “You think?”

Kevin nodded. “You are going to do just fine in America, Rabia.” He stood up. “Now let's go find the cafeteria. I'm starving.”