Deadly Decision (29 page)

Trina plopped back down on the couch. I could swear Ted smirked, but I don't swear and Ted
never
smirks.

“Mitch will be fine,” I added, heading toward the door. “He's young. I've seen kids go to rehab, and they come back looking good. If they stay away from the wrong crowd, they keep clean. We'll have to help Mitch make new friends.”

I had warmed to Mitch, somewhat, after seeing his concern for Trina the day she went missing.

The pout on my daughter's face told me the fight was over. It always ended when she put on the pout-face. Interesting how some things never changed.

It took me twenty-five minutes to get to the hospital, park, and reach Jimmy's room. Sandra was sitting at the bedside, holding the boy's hand just as always. But this time Jimmy was holding hers back.

I gave Sandra's shoulders a gentle squeeze before looking down at the miracle boy. He was a miracle. Everyone, especially me, had thought he was dead. Young boys don't go missing for six weeks and show up alive. Even after we had found him, I still thought he would die.

Sandra reached up and grabbed my hand with her free one. She lifted her beaming face. “Let me introduce you to my grandson.”

I smiled at the skeletal boy. His blue eyes were the exact color I remembered; only now they were sunken into his face. A gauze dressing loosely covered his neck. The intravenous line remained, but the oxygen, that had been there hours ago, was gone.

As his blue eyes held mine, a lump crept into my throat. I had fallen in love with this boy. There was a personal connection that only I understood. “Hi Jimmy. I've wanted to meet you.”

“This is the man who found you. This is Bill Iver, Trina's daddy.”

Jimmy's lips parted into a faint smile.

“It's OK buddy. We'll have plenty of time to get to know each other. You just rest now.”

Jimmy shut his eyes. Soon his chest rose and fell in a regular pattern.

Sandra let go of my hand and brushed a tear from her cheek, never taking her eyes off her grandson. “I thought I would never see him again.”

“I understand.” And I did. I had lost my wife, and had almost lost Trina. The final pain was still to come. Yes, I did understand.

Sitting in the chair I always occupied, I watched as Sandra kept her eyes focused on Jimmy. I looked at the child, reveled in the slight rise and fall of the bed sheet as he breathed. His smile earlier had reminded me of the first smile I had received from Trina, and the hundreds since. Jimmy and I would share hundreds of smiles.

A sob caught in my throat. I was out of practice, but I needed to pray.
Thank you, God, for this child, for his precious life. Thank you for the second ghost boy, whatever he is. I know you provided him to lead me to Trina and Jimmy. And God, whatever you have in mind for Sandra and I, thank you…
I had so much more I wanted to tell God, but the words wouldn't form. I sat in silence, my mind empty, but my heart felt so full.

It was getting late, and I knew Trina would want news of Jimmy before she went to bed. “Can I get you anything?” I asked quietly.

“I'm fine, thanks.” She continued looking at the sleeping boy. “I have everything I need.”

“I'll be back in the morning.”

“Gramma.”

The faint voice caught our attention. “What do you need honey?”

“My friend. Is he here?”

“Bill's still here, sweetheart.”

“I'm right here, big guy.”

“Hi Mr. Bill. No, my other friend.”

Sandra and I looked at each other. Surely he didn't mean Jack. Had he mistaken Trina for a boy?

“Who do you mean honey?”

“My friend. He told me God sent him to stay with me until I was safe.”

It all made sense. There had been two ghosts, Jimmy and another child, the one standing beside him. Had I misinterpreted the role of the second child?

Could my second ghost boy actually be someone God had sent to comfort Jimmy? Had the second boy once been alive and now wasn't—at least not in an earthly sense? Would God do that?

I had underestimated God's power; had I also underestimated His overwhelming compassion?

“Your friend,” I murmured. “Does he have a name?”

“It's Jimmy, same as mine. He's nine and I'm seven.” The boy closed his eyes again, the wisp of a smile painting his lips.

With these thoughts fresh in my mind, I kissed Sandra's cheek and promised to return in the morning.

Jimmy's words stayed with me as I drove home. The second ghost had a name—Jimmy. Somehow, he was connected to my family.
Who was this child of the north?

I updated Betsy, Ted, and Trina, and went to bed. I was tired. Besides, I wanted to get up at dawn and take some breakfast to Sandra. If Trina felt up to it, Ted agreed to allow her to come along.

My room was quiet, as it had been since I…since God had sent the demon scurrying for another hang-out. The memory made me shiver. The demon I had been hunting had been in my room all along, teasing me, taunting me, trying to steal my soul.

I would never knowingly have allowed that to happen, but it had happened, and it had happened so easily, one tiny mistake at a time.

I had almost lost so much.

 



 

The sun was barely above the horizon when Trina and Ted accompanied me to my SUV. Trina, eager to reach the hospital, danced ahead. I grabbed Ted's arm. Keeping my eye on Trina, I pulled Ted to my side. “Look, Jack might be in jail without bond, but I'm still worried that somehow he will manage to escape. He's a tricky guy, and if he escapes, you know where he's going to head first.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“He's going to want to finish what he started. He's going to head to Trina and Jimmy. I stay with Sandra as much as she allows, but now both Jimmy and Trina are going to be together again. This is his chance.”

“How would he know?”

“He'll find out somehow. Look, I talked to Studler about it, and he assures me Jack is locked up tight, but he doesn't know the power of Satan like I do.” The memory of my interactions with demons had sealed fear in my heart.

“Dad, unlock the door.” Trina called from the side of the vehicle. “Come on, you two can talk on the way.”

I looked at Ted. “Just keep your eyes open. That's all I ask.”

Buckled into the car, I headed down 52 towards McLeod Hospital. I slowed as the traffic light turned yellow.

“You could have made it,” Trina murmured from the back seat.

We drove past the Ebeneezer Road turnoff. “The speed limit's fifty-five here,” a voice behind me stated.

“Trina, there's a car in front of me. I can't run it over.”

“Then pass it!”

From the rearview mirror, I saw Ted take her hand. “Relax. We're almost there.”

She huffed out her frustration, but the remainder of the trip was made in silence.

Trina set the pace, and Ted and I had to almost run to keep up with her once we parked. She picked at her sleeve in the elevator.

“What room?” she asked.

“Down the hall. Third door on the left.”

A food cart with partially eaten trays stood in the hall. As we passed the nurses' station, one of the nurses smiled and waved. I had become a regular.

Trina tapped lightly on Jimmy's door before she pushed it open.

“Trina!” Sandra jumped from her chair and put her arms around my daughter. Marveling again at the bond between the two women, I was warmed and grateful.

“Ted. Bill.” We each got a hug. Betsy had accompanied me to the hospital a couple of times, but decided to stay home this time, feeling the reunion with Jimmy belonged to us. I assured her she was welcome, but Betsy can be stubborn.

Trina was already at Jimmy's bedside. She was still pale, and tended to jump at the sound of dogs barking and cars backfiring. Hard scabs had formed on her face, in spite of the ointment she and Ted liberally applied. The wounds on her wrists became visible as she eagerly reached for the young boy. My jaw tightened. Would I ever be able to forgive Jack for what he did?

“Jimmy, you look like your old self,” Trina said, leaning over the bedrail and kissing his cheek. “What are you doing in bed?”

“Trina!” He grinned and grabbed her neck.

They clung together, like two lone souls in a huge empty sea. I looked away, the joy of their reunion a private moment.

Trina settled into Sandra's chair, and grasped the outstretched hand pushed between the bedrails. Trina had told me how much she and Jimmy had connected before he disappeared, but I had given it little thought since I believed Jimmy was dead.

Overnight the boy had improved. The head of his bed was raised. Beside the bed was a tray of gelatin, clear broth, and apple juice. Not exactly the breakfast of champions, but more than he had been given in days. With his sunken cheeks, and ribs visible through the drooping top of his hospital gown, he reminded me of the pictures I had seen of concentration camp survivors. I didn't know how Sandra could stand the pain of looking at him.

“His dressing is gone,” I said.

“He kept picking at it,” Sandra said. “This morning, when the nurse cleaned his neck, he refused to let her put a new dressing on. He went into a near panic when she tried to tie his gown.”

After looking from Jimmy to Trina, Sandra turned toward me. “You know, you promised me breakfast.”

“I brought some muffins from the store.” I held out the plastic sack I was gripping. “Not quite like yours, but they're food.”

“How about the cafeteria instead?” she asked. “Ted, come with us. And Trina,” she said, smiling at my daughter, “see if you can get Jimmy to eat some of his gelatin. Jimmy, I'll be right back…”

“I'll be OK Gramma. Trina's with me.”

Jimmy might be comfortable with Trina staying behind, but as we left the room, a hundred thoughts marched through my head.
What if Jack is given parole for some reason, and comes to finish what he started? What if he breaks out? Someone needs to stay behind and protect them.

Sandra linked her arm through mine. “I thought of it, too,” she whispered, as though reading my mind, “but we have to keep trusting God to take care of them.”

My heart followed my feet farther and farther down the hall.

 



 

By the time we got home, Trina was exhausted. While she took a nap, I settled on the porch swing. I had a lot to think about, but found myself just sitting. For once, it felt good to “just be.”

“Hey, you want company?” Betsy asked.

“Sure, come on out. This is my favorite place.”

She settled into one of the wicker chairs. “I can see why. It's peaceful here. And cool. How do you stand this heat?”

“I guess I've gotten used to it.”

“Hmm.” She opened her book and became lost in someone else's world.

Later, Trina wandered out, yawning and stretching. She sat beside me on the swing. As she nestled close, I rocked us back and forth. It brought back days right after Nancy's death. Trina and I had spent hours together, sharing both comfort and fear.

I wondered who would comfort me when Trina was gone.

Ted came out and lowered his lanky form onto the swing beside us. Trina shifted closer to him. I continued to rock us, a family of three.

When had the transition come, from hated son-in-law to loved family member? I wasn't sure, but it felt right.

You could always count on birds in Darlington. I heard different chirps and tweets. Probably gossiping about the bird next door. Or scolding the children. The claws of two squirrels scratched as they scampered up and down the ancient oak tree shadowing us, one probably playing tag with the other, like they seemed to do so often. I sighed.

“I was so scared when I saw a strange man in the kitchen,” Trina murmured. “I had never seen Jack before. I didn't know who he was. But I remember thinking, Dad's wrong. It's not Mitch.”

Ted pulled her closer, and I continued to rock. Trina had not talked about her nightmare. Betsy had cautioned us not to push her, knowing she would share when ready. Apparently, now, after seeing Jimmy, she was ready.

“I tried to get away from him, I even tried to scream, but nothing came out. I thought I was going to die,” she said, looking up at Ted, “now, when I have so much to live for.”

A silent sob filled my throat. Betsy placed her hands on top of her closed book.

“He took me to the shed and taped me up. I was scared to death until I saw Jimmy. I couldn't really
see
him, it was dark.

“At first, when he started to move, I thought he was a rat or something, and I panicked. But then I heard him whisper.” There was a catch in her voice. “When he said my name, I recognized his voice. I couldn't believe it. I wanted to grab him and hug him, but I couldn't move. I couldn't even talk. It was still dark. He crawled over to me, and tried to pull the tape off my mouth, but he was too weak. He just kept telling me it was OK, that we weren't alone, that the other Jimmy was there. I thought he was hallucinating.”

I continued to push us on the swing, rocking us back and forth, allowing Trina to re-experience her nightmare within the security of love.

Trina closed her eyes, and I thought she had fallen asleep until she started to talk again. “Jimmy said Jack used to tie him up too, but he didn't anymore. I could tell why. The poor boy hardly had the energy to move.”

Tears trickled down my face, and I let them come, silent pain for a brave child.

Trina continued. “He told me the worst part was being hungry. Sometimes Jack would bring him food and something to drink. But sometimes he would forget. Those were the times the other Jimmy would hold his hand and sing to him.”

Burning pain ran through my body. How had the boy endured six weeks of captivity and abuse? Tears were running down Betsy's face, too. At some point, I had forgotten to push the swing. We sat in silence.