The Aura (22 page)

It was twenty minutes before Gabe called back. My taxi had already left the motorway and was weaving in and out of evening traffic on the Oxford ring road.

“The ambulance man wants to talk to you,” Gabe said. The paramedic’s tone, when he came on the line, was calm and unhurried. He explained that they suspected acute appendicitis and were taking Aidan to the John Radcliffe hospital.

“Is he going to be okay?” I asked.

“The emergency room doctors will be able to give you a better answer on that,” he replied. “I need permission to take the young man’s brother to the hospital. Are you the mother?”

“No, I’m their aunt. Please take Gabe with you. He can’t be home alone. Their father is at a function and I can’t reach him. I’ll be at the hospital in ten minutes, maybe less.”

“Give me a minute,” he said, and I leaned forward to tell the driver to go to the ER. Apparently enjoying the drama, he put his foot down even further. The cab fishtailed on the wet road and I grabbed at the armrest, gripping it like a lifebuoy while the car slid sideways into the slow lane. Several horns blared, drowning out the euro-pop music on the radio. By some miracle, we didn’t hit anyone, but my relief was short-lived. There was a massive jolt, and the taxi surged forward, hit from the behind. My seat belt tightened across my chest. All I could hear was the driver’s voice. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He jumped out of the car and hurried towards the driver of the car that had slammed into us.

Realizing I’d let go of the phone, I undid the seat belt so I could feel around under the seat in front of me. When I’d found it, I looked out through the rear window to see the taxi driver arguing with the driver of the Renault that had hit us. Behind them, a line of cars had come to a halt, their headlights blazing in the darkness.

The Renault driver loomed over the little taxi driver, swinging his heavily-muscled arms around. I was relieved to hear a police siren rising and falling as it came closer. Blue lights whirling, a Range Rover pulled up behind the disabled vehicles.

A glance at my watch showed that it had been nearly ten minutes since I talked to Gabe. Damn. I opened the back door, and squeezed out in the narrow space between the car and a guardrail on the side of the road. A policeman was talking to the taxi driver and the owner of the Renault, while traffic eased past in the fast lane.

“I’m sorry, but I have an emergency,” I said to the police officer. “I need to get to the ER.”

The policeman glanced up at me. “Are you injured, ma’am?”

“No, no. It’s not for me. My nephew’s been taken to the ER. I need to get there immediately.”

“Just a few minutes, and we’ll be done here,” he replied. “But it may take awhile for the tow truck to get here.”

“Tow truck?”

“Can’t drive the taxi. Both rear lights are smashed.”

“Will you take me?” I said to the Renault driver. “It’s an emergency.”

“What do you think I am? A bloody taxi driver? No freakin’ way, I’m already late for my date.”

“The tow truck will take you,” said the policeman, with a glance of disapproval at the Renault driver. “I’m sure it won’t be long before it gets here.”

In my previous life, I’d had little to no contact with policemen. Now, in the last few weeks, I’d spent time in a police station, had coffee with a detective, had my fingerprints taken. Any awe and veneration I’d had for the uniform was quickly dissipating.

“You’re not listening,” I said. “I have to get to the ER. Right now.”

The policeman’s head shot up from the ticket he was writing. His eyes locked with mine, but I didn’t flinch. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll take you there myself. Two minutes.”

I told the taxi driver I’d talk with his boss to make sure he got paid and, feeling a little sorry about leaving him to deal with the crazed Renault driver and the tow truck, I got in the back seat of the police Range Rover.

“ER at Radcliffe?” the policeman verified.

When I nodded, he turned on his lights and siren and pulled out into traffic. I tried calling Leo again but got no answer. Aidan’s phone also clicked to voicemail. I hoped the two boys were safely at the hospital by now. My heart raced.

It was only a few minutes before we were at the hospital entrance. “Hope things go okay, miss,” the officer said.

Thanking him for the lift, I hurried inside, blinking in the dazzlingly bright lights. The ER waiting room was busy. People waited on plastic chairs, some of them watching a flat panel television hung on the wall, others dozing or looking at their mobile phones. A baby screamed. I tried Leo’s number again while joining the back of a line at the registration desk.

“Come on, Leo. Check your phone,” I said, realizing I was talking out loud. After five minutes, I’d had enough of waiting, and walked up to the desk, to the muttered annoyance of the people standing in line.

“I need to find my nephews. One was brought in with appendicitis. Aidan Benedict. And his little brother is here somewhere.”

“Please wait your turn, ma’am,” the receptionist replied, raising her bulbous yellow-brown eyes to stare at me. Her sallow skin was very wrinkled, folding its way down her face to a pendulous dewlap. She reminded me of an iguana.

I leaned forward over the counter, eighteen inches of formica that separated those who waited from those who controlled how long they would wait.

“I want to know where my nephews are. Please check your computer and tell me. Now.”

The lizard woman harrumphed, but pecked at the keyboard with long green-painted nails.

“What was the name again?”

I told her and she peered at the screen. “Benedict. Yes, he’s been admitted and is on his way to surgery.”

“Where?”

“You can’t go down there,” she began and then rolled her reptilian eyes, as if to acknowledge that I would extract the information from her one way or another. “One floor down, Suite B, but they won’t let you in. There’s a waiting room where …”

I hurried towards the elevator, punching the call button impatiently. When it finally arrived, I had to wait for two nurses to push out a gurney, its occupant as pale as death and perforated with tubes. An aura floated above the man’s head, and I turned away, unable to give him a second thought. I was too focused on Aidan.

The elevator moved slowly down one floor, hissed to a halt, and the doors opened slowly on to a long, brightly lit corridor. A sign in front of me indicated Suite B was to the left. My boots squeaked on the linoleum floor as I hurried past closed doors, finally reaching a room marked with a B.

The door was shut and I stopped dead in front of it. Aidan was on the other side, on the operating table. I wished I could send him a message, letting him know I was there. Now I’d arrived, I didn’t know what to do. I leaned against the wall, suddenly aware that my shoulder hurt where the seatbelt had tightened over it. Going back upstairs was pointless; I had to find Gabe. The thought of the little boy being alone somewhere in this vast hospital made me feel sick.

A nurse in greens scrubs strode towards me, a few dark hairs bristling out from a white surgical cap. Her furrowed brow reminded me of my high school principal on a bad day.

“Can I help you?” the nurse asked.

“I’m looking for my nephews,” I said, standing up straight. “Aidan Benedict, and his brother Gabe.”

“You’re the aunt,” she said. She was wearing a nametag with ‘Cindy’ printed on it. “Come with me.”

She led the way further down the corridor to another door, which she pushed open, standing back to let me go in first.

“Aunt Kate!” Gabe jumped out of a chair and threw himself at me. His little body was trembling.

The nurse smiled, some of her scariness melted away. “This is Maude, one of our volunteers,” she said, introducing me to a kind-looking woman in her sixties. “She’s been keeping Gabe company.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Do you know how Aidan is doing?”

“He’s just gone into surgery.” Cindy said. “It could be a while before we know anything; I’ll come back as soon as I have any information.”

Maude quietly withdrew, leaving Gabe and me alone in the small room. There were four or five chairs upholstered in brown fabric, along with a table that held a pile of dog-eared magazines and a tub of plastic toys.

“Are you okay?” I asked him. He nodded, but it was an uncertain gesture. Taking my hand, he pulled me over to a chair, and then sat in the one next to me, leaning into me over the wooden armrest.

“How was Aidan doing when they took him into surgery?”

“Not too good. He was really white and he wouldn’t talk to me. Just sort of groaning a lot. At least he stopped being sick before the ambulance men came.” Gabe shivered. I tightened my arm around his shoulder.

“He’ll be okay, I promise. We need to find your Dad somehow. Did he tell you where the dinner was being held?”

Gabe scrunched up his face in thought. “Well, he took his fancy gown and cap with him, which usually that means it’s at one of the colleges. He said he would keep his phone on and we could text him but he never answered. I called twice and texted a lot.”

“OK, I’ll try calling the Porter at his college to see if he can give us any help.”

Damn, I should have thought of that earlier. I made some calls, finally reaching a master who said he knew where Leo was. Unaware of the urgency, he started to tell me that the dinner was being held in honor of some visiting mathematician from Sweden, but I cut him off.

“Please find Leo. It’s very urgent. Ask him to call his sister.” I gave him the number. Gabe looked as though he was going to cry.

“Your Dad will be here soon, don’t worry. Do you want to look at a comic? They seem to have a few.”

“Uh huh.” He nestled closer against me. I had to shift him slightly to get to my phone when it rang.

“What’s the problem, Kate?” Leo’s voice was low. I heard voices and the clinking of plates and glasses in the background. There was no mistaking the ill-concealed irritation in his voice.

“It’s Aidan,” I said. “He’s okay, but he’s in surgery. Appendicitis. Can you come? I’m at the hospital with Gabe.”

“Oh my God,” said Leo. There was a long pause. “My phone battery died. I didn’t realize until the Porter came to tell me to call you. I’m using a colleague’s phone. I’m really sorry. Is Aidan okay?”

“We don’t know anything yet. Just come as fast as you can.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Your Dad’s coming,” I said to Gabe. “He won’t be long now.”

He leaned his head on my shoulder and I stroked his hair. “Will Aidan be all right?” he asked after a while. “I’m scared.”

“He’ll be fine. The doctors know what they’re doing and they perform these operations all the time.”

“He’ll have a scar, won’t he? I bet it’ll be bigger than the one on my elbow. Do you want to see it?”

I laughed. I’d seen it before; it was the result of a fall from a bike when he was little. “Yes, show me,” I said, happy to keep him occupied and his thoughts off Aidan.

I heard the squeak of shoes on the lino floor in the hallway and stood up, expecting Leo. It was Cindy, her expression serious.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Aidan’s appendix had ruptured, so there is some infection. The doctors are working on it.”

“Oh my God. Is it serious?”

“Peritonitis is always serious, but he’s in good hands. The best, really. Doctor Patel has handled many, many of these cases.”

The doctor’s experience was no consolation. My stomach clenched as though a wire had tightened around it.

“There’s a cafeteria on the third floor and a vending machine on the second,” she said, with a glance at Gabe. “Perhaps a drink or a snack would help to pass the time?”

Before I could explain that we were waiting for Aidan’s father, Leo arrived in a rush, out of breath and red in the cheeks. He held out his arms to Gabe, who ran into them, tears streaming down his cheeks. The two of them hugged for a minute, then Leo pushed him gently back so he could talk to the nurse.

“Do we know anything about Aidan?”

Cindy told him everything. When she mentioned the peritonitis, Leo’s face blanched. He sat down with his head in his hands. After a minute, he looked up.

“Can I see the doctor?”

“Not yet. These surgeries can take a while. Please be patient,” she said.

“That’s funny,” said Gabe. “Aidan is the patient, but we have to be patient.”

It was the first time he’d smiled since I’d arrived. I thought of explaining the origin of the word to him, but it seemed like too many words for my tired brain to string together.

Ruffling Gabe’s hair, Leo turned to me. “How did you end up here?”

I gave him a succinct version of how I’d talked to Gabe, called for an ambulance, and got a taxi up from London.

“I’m so sorry.” Leo paced the room. “I should have noticed that Aidan was sick before I left. I should have checked my phone during the evening. I can’t believe I let my phone run out of power and didn’t even know. Stupid of me.”

I tried to reassure him. “It’s not your fault, Leo. Aidan would be in surgery even if your phone had been working.”

“He wouldn’t be if it weren’t for you, Kate. You were the one that checked in and got him to the hospital. If you hadn’t done that, God knows what would have happened to him. Thank you.”

I felt the coldness in my veins melt away with Leo’s words. All the conflict of the past weeks was gone. In spite of my fear for Aidan, I felt a little better, happy that Leo and I were not fighting any more.

Time passed very slowly. Gabe sat on the brown carpet, pushing legos around with no real interest. Leo paced, sat for a while, and paced some more. I stared at a magazine, but didn’t read a single word. Finally, the door opened. A nurse in green scrubs poked her head around it. “Dr. Benedict? Your son is out of surgery. You will be able to see him in a few minutes. The doctor would like a word with you first.”

Leo squeezed my hand before hurrying after Cindy, leaving Gabe and me alone again. It was past midnight. Gabe should have been in bed.

When Leo returned a few minutes later, he looked pale and drawn.

“How is he?” I asked. “You should sit down. You look a bit wobbly.”