Authors: Andrew Neiderman
We've got to get her out of here quickly and quietly Dr. Beezly said.
I've been treating her for severe depression. Perhaps, he said, looking
at the Bakers, I ought to have her admitted. At least for a day or so.
She needs to be watched. Especially under these circumstances. Her
loss of sight is the result of a previous automobile accident, he
explained to the head nurse.
And the trauma of her husband being in another car accident . . .
There are no other family members? Sue Martin asked.
Not in the community. I have both his and her parents phone numbers and
will be calling them soon, Dr. Beezly said.
What do you want us to do? Bob asked.
Get her out as quickly and as quietly as you can. I'll have admitting
assign her a bed. For the moment, the doctor said, looking toward
Jessie, it's probably better that she doesn't know I'm here. We don't
want her to cause a scene in intensive care.
Thank you, Doctor, Sue Martin said. That's wise.
I'll help you, she added, looking at the Bakers. She Tracy, and Bob
walked toward Jessie.
Just before they arrived, Jessie felt a cold draft on the back of her
neck and turned toward them sharply. She did it with such definiteness,
it brought a look of surprise to the nurse's face and a gasp to Tracy's
lips. It was as though Jessie had miraculously regained her sight. Even
though her head was directed at them, however, her eyes remained dull,
lifeless.
Jessie, Tracy said, reaching her first and taking her hand into hers.
Why did you sneak away like that? You gave Bob and me some fright.
Get away from me. Get away. Jessie pulled her hand from Tracy's. Leave
us alone. Leave us alone, she repeated, raising her voice sufficiently
to set the head nurse moving.
Mrs. Overstreet, you will have to leave now. This is intensive care.
You're permitted only a short visit, Sue Martin said.
No, Jessie said, shaking her head. I must stay with him, protect him.
Please.
You can't do anything for him right now, Mrs. Overstreet, and as I told
you before, we have many critically ill patients in here. Please. You
can return later.
I won't make a sound. I won't do anything. I'll just sit here and hold
his hand. I swear it, Jessie pleaded.
Mrs. Overstreet. . .
I must stay with him, Jessie said firmly. If I don't, they will take
him from me. Don't you understand?
she insisted, raising her voice again. Sue Martin signaled another
nurse, who came across the room quickly.
You're making things much more difficult for every one, Mrs. Overstreet,
including your husband, Sue Martin said.
Really, Jessie, you are, Tracy added. Bob and I are here to be with you
and- NOOOOO, Jessie cried. She stood up and held her hands out to ward
them off.
Oh Jesus, Sue Martin said. She and her assistant moved forward and
seized Jessie firmly at the upper arms and waist. If you don't walk
out, Mrs. Overstreet, we will carry you out.
Jessie started to resist, but their grips tightened.
You don't understand, she cried.
We understand. Mrs. Overstreet. Really we do. We know what you're
going through. They started her for ward.
You have no idea. Jessie couldn't stop them from leading her away. Dr.
Beezly is going to take my husband's soul. He's going to put another
soul in him, an evil soul. They're digging up the grave right now, she
whispered. The two nurses looked at each other and then at Tracy and
Bob, who shook their heads sadly.
Just a little bit farther, Mrs. Overstreet, Sue Martin said. You can
wait with your friends downstairs. If there's any change whatsoever,
we'll call you.
I want another doctor. Will you call another doctor?
she pleaded through her tears.
Of course, Sue Martin said. I'll do that right away, she said, but
Jessie heard her condescension.
No, you won't. You don't believe me. Maybe you're one of them, she
said weakly. It was all overwhelming her again. Her legs felt so soft,
her body wilting like a flower without water or sunlight. A deep
sadness filled her. It was as if the darkness in her eyes had spread
like a rash over her body, making her other senses just as dull and
ineffective. She could barely feel anything or hear anything. The
world around her began to drift away, leaving her alone in some dark
corner, washed in a shadow and becoming little more than a shadow
herself.
Just before they reached the door, she lost consciousness She had no
idea where she was when she awoke. She felt she was adrift in space,
floating in some dark limbo.
She heard the murmur of strange voices. There was the rattle of wheels,
the click of footsteps. Someone's thin laugh threaded its way through
the tapestry of confusion.
She lifted her hands and began to explore her immediate surroundings.
She felt a starched, stiff bed sheet over her body. Gradually the
scents of the hospital began to announce themselves clearly and she
remembered.
She groaned and tried to turn, but found she had been strapped into the
bed. One strap was over her thighs and one was over her ankles. She
struggled to get her hands over the strap across her thighs to find
where it was fastened, but she discovered no way to release herself.
How had she gotten here? Who put her here? She labored to recall the
final moments before she lost consciousness and remembered she had been
with Lee.
Lee Help! she cried. Someone, please . . . help!
She heard a rush of footsteps outside the door of the room and moments
later a soft, female voice.
It's all right, Mrs. Overstreet. It' s all right, the nurse said, and
took her hand. She felt her place her other hand over her forehead and
wipe back some strands of hair.
Where am I? What happened to me?
You're in the hospital. You fainted in the intensive care unit, but
there's nothing seriously wrong with you.
Dr. Beezly checked you over.
Oh no, Jessie said weakly. Why am I strapped in It's just a precaution,
Mrs. Overstreet. We don't want you trying to get up and falling. You
can hurt yourself seriously doing that. You're too weak and unstable
right now. But after a day or so . . .
It will be too late by then, Jessie said. Please, let me get up.'
How about we get something in your stomach...
some nice hot tea, some oatmeal-
"I'm not hungry. I just have to gust before they reached the door, she
lost consciousness She had no idea where she was when she awoke. She
felt she was adrift in space, floating in some dark limbo.
She heard the murmur of strange voices. There was the rattle of wheels,
the click of footsteps. Someone's thin laugh threaded its way through
the tapestry of confusion.
She lifted her hands and began to explore her immediate surroundings.
She felt a starched, stiff bed sheet over her body. Gradually the
scents of the hospital began to announce themselves clearly and she
remembered.
She groaned and tried to turn, but found sh e had been strapped into the
bed. One strap was over her thighs and one was over her ankles. She
struggled to get her hands over the strap across her thighs to find
where it was fastened, but she discovered no way to release herself.
How had she gotten here? Who put her here? She labored to recall the
final moments before she lost consciousness and remembered she had been
with Lee.
Lee Help! she cried. Someone, please . . . help!
She heard a rush of footsteps outside the door of the room and moments
later a soft, female voice.
It's all right, Mrs. Overstreet. It' s all right, the nurse said, and
took her hand. She felt her place her other hand over her forehead and
wipe back some strands of hair.
Where am I? What happened to me?
You're in the hospital. You fainted in the intensive care unit, but
there's nothing seriously wrong with you.
Dr. Beezly checked you over.
Oh no, Jessie said weakly. Why am I strapped in It's just a precaution,
Mrs. Overstreet. We don't want you trying to get up and falling. You
can hurt yourself seriously doing that. You're too weak and unstable
right now. But after a day or so . . .
It will be too late by then, Jessie said. Please, let me get up.'
How about we get something in your stomach...
some nice hot tea, some oatmeal-
"I'm not hungry. I just have to get up and get back to my husband,
Jessie replied, and struggled to sit up.
That's all right. You just get something into your stomach anyway.
That's the fastest way for you to regain your strength, and you want to
regain your strength, don't you? the nurse asked as if she were talking
to an infant.
Yes, yes, Jessie said. They weren't listening; no one would listen.
Good. The nurse fluffed up her pillow and set it behind her so she
could sit up comfortably.
Please unfasten me, Jessie begged again.
For the time being, let's just leave things this way.
If you need to go to the bathroom, I'll bring you the bedpan.
No, I need to get up.
In due time.
I'm strong enough. Really.
Now, now, Mrs. Overstreet. Do you want Dr. Beezly to be angry with
us? Let me get you something to eat and then you will feel better,
okay'
Jessie nodded and sighed. She lowered her head. It was no use, no use.
What was it her father always said?
A branch that doesn't bend, breaks.
Now there's a good girl, the nurse said. Your friends wanted me to tell
you that they would be back as soon as they could and they would keep
you informed about your husband's condition, she added.
They don't have to, Jessie said quietly, her voice soaked in defeat.. "I
know his condition. He's going to die, if he's not already dead.
Oh, you must not think that way, Mrs. Overstreet.
You must have faith. Are you a Catholic? she asked.
Not a practicing one, Jessie replied.
Well, Father Rush is here visiting patients. Would you like me to send
him in to see you? the nurse asked.
He's a very nice man. I happen to be a Catholic, too, the nurse added.
Jessie didn't reply. She just fell back against the pillows .
I'll send him by, the nurse said, and left.
Jessie felt herself drifting off again. The weight of the battle was
too much. She thought about all that had happened, all the warnings
they had had: the things she had heard, had sensed, and had felt. Lee
should have listened. He should have listened, she murmured.
Who should have listened, Mrs. Overstreet? a deep, strong voice asked.
At first she thought she had imagined it, but then she felt the warm
hand over hers.
What's I'm Father Rush, the man said. How are you doing, Mrs.
Overstreet?
Father Rush? Jessie started to sit up again.
Now, now, take it easy, he said softly. I understand you're having a
bad time of it. Your husband was in a car accident, I know. He
continued to pat her hand softly.
Oh Father, Jessie said. You don't know. Satan is here. The devil is
here to take him.
The priest' s fingers stopped stroking hers, but his hand lingered over
her palm. Jessie seized his hand quickly and squeezed.
You must believe me, Father. You must.
You're quite overwrought, Mrs. Overstreet. Just try to relax a bit.
Father . . .
I'm here. I'm listening to you, the priest said calmly, but before
Jessie could go on, the nurse returned.
Oh, you've got her sitting up, Father. That's good, she said. I've
brought her some tea and hot oatmeal.
Very good.
I don't want to eat. Please, I- You should get something hot in your
stomach, Mrs. Overstreet, the priest said.
All right, all right. I'll eat if you will stay and listen to me.
I'm not going anywhere, he said. She could hear the amusement in his
voice. Maybe he wasn't a priest;
maybe he was one of them....
She pressed her palm into his again and held it there as tightly as she