Chapter Twenty-Two
Twenty-two
The ambulance ride was short in comparison to the amount of time it took for us to hike down the rest of the trail. The team had to stop a few times to lay the stretcher down and switch carriers. Every time I held my breath as they lowered Caleb to the ground and picked him back up again. But our slow descent gave Henry and Kieran the time to get ahead and find their way back to the motel where we’d left our cars for the week.
They arrived at the hospital shortly after we did, Henry in our car and Kieran driving behind him in theirs. I gave them Helen’s phone, and in exchange they gave me my car keys, Caleb’s bloodied glasses, and a hug. The first thing I did was get my phone out of the glove box to call Win. They left shortly after helping me find my way back to the waiting room and making sure the nurses knew where to find me.
I hate the sight of blood. Always have. But seeing Caleb’s blood? There isn’t a strong enough word. Detest, despise, loathe, abhor…What are some other words I know? C’mon brain, think of words. List them off. Synonyms. Anything is better than thinking of—
No. I won’t go there.
The big clock on the wall ticks yet again. It’s now one hour and fifty-four minutes since we arrived and they rushed Caleb away and told me they’d come find me when they could.
I don’t know if I can stand to sit here another moment, soaking in my own anxiety. What could be taking so long? If he’s waiting somewhere, for a room or a scan, why can’t I wait with him?
I ask myself what I’m supposed to do over and over until I realize that Caleb would probably want me to call his mom. I take my phone out of my sweater’s pouch pocket, but my hands are shaking so violently that I nearly drop it. Still, I manage to pull up Chellie’s contact and hit call .
“Sarah?” she answers on the third ring with an immediate urgency to her tone. It makes sense that she’d perhaps presume it’s an emergency. I don’t think I’ve called her since…maybe ever.
“Hi, Chellie,” I reply, my voice breaking as a bubble of fear threatens to burst. I clear my throat but it’s no use.
“What’s happened?” I hear a soft thud. It might be a door closing or the shutting of a book. Maybe a mug being set down. Or a knife being placed onto a cutting board? I don’t know what Chellie would be doing at 4:11 P.M. on a…what day is it? Thursday? But she stopped whatever it was. “Hello? Sarah?”
“Sorry, here, um…” I sniff, still trembling. “Caleb…he-he’s okay. But—” I blow out a long, shaking breath. “But there was an accident.”
“What sort of accident? Where is he?”
Fuck. When Win had asked me which hospital we were at, I’d just read the sign outside. Now, I don’t remember. Shit-shit-shit, why don’t I remember? I should remember. God, my only job right now is to remember!
“ We’re in Huntsville.” I look to the big, cruel, ticking clock that’s turned forty-six minutes since we arrived and then to the walls surrounding it, finding an emblem on the wall. “Memorial,” I say abruptly. “We’re at Memorial Hospital,” I repeat. “When we got here, they took him to do some tests, a brain scan, because of swelling or bleeding or—”
“Sarah, calm down,” she commands coldly. “What happened?”
“Sorry,” I say, trying to replay today’s events. “We were hiking and Caleb got hurt. There was this old footbridge and a little girl fell when one of the boards snapped—”
“Not Win’s little girl?” she asks urgently. I appreciate her concern; it feels like the closest thing to caring about me or those in my proximity that Chellie has ever demonstrated.
“No, Win and Bo aren’t with us. Another friend of ours.”
“All right.”
“Libby, the little girl, is okay. Caleb saved her. After he got her out of the water he slipped and smacked his head, hard.”
“So he’s unconscious?”
“He was unconscious when we got here and they haven’t let me see him,” I say, emotion stealing my voice nearly entirely as tears begin to pour. “I just want to see him.” My words are a warbled, wet mess.
“Well, there’s not much you could do…You’d just be in their way.”
I nod, forcing my upper lip to stiffen. “Right,” I say, drying my face before placing a hand on my hip. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“I’ll call Cora and ask if she is able to take off work early and drive me up there. Caleb’s father is still in Beijing on business so he—”
I turn to look down the hall and find a middle-aged white woman in scrubs walking toward me. “I have to go, someone is here,” I interrupt.
“All right, well, let me know what they say, and I’ll let you know what we decide.”
“I will,” I answer, then immediately hang up the phone. I stand, looking to the scrub-wearing woman for answers. “Hi, can you help me? I’m Sarah. I’m—”
“Caleb’s wife,” she answers for me, nodding slowly. “I’m sure it was all a bit of a blur but I was one of the folks who met the ambulance when you arrived. I’m Doctor Wenarchuk.” She gestures for me to sit, so I do. She lowers into the chair two down from mine and places a clipboard on the vacant seat between us. “The good news is that Caleb’s condition is stable. However, there is a fair bit of swelling around his brain.”
My throat tightens, forcing me to hiccup when I intend to breathe.
“We’ve sedated him, which will allow us to keep him comfortable while that little bit of swelling takes some time to go down. Sometimes these sorts of head injuries, especially when they go untreated for a few hours, can cause further complications. Keeping him unconscious will prevent any strenuous activity that could cause further damage and allow the body to put all of its energy into recovering. We currently see no signs of lasting or permanent damage but head injuries can be precarious and we want to be extra careful. He will most likely be kept asleep for at least the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, and we will continue to run further tests and reassess. In the meantime, you are more than welcome to stay with him in the ICU. There’s a fold-out bed in there, a few chairs. If there’s someone who can come keep you company, we can help you both be comfortable. Have you eaten anything today? My colleague mentioned you were—”
“The ICU,” I interrupt, then swallow as dread sends a cool shiver across every inch of skin. “Caleb, my Caleb, is in the ICU?”
The doctor nods, lowering her head to catch my gaze softly. “Yes, he is. And I know how scary that can sound but—”
“Caleb Linwood…Curly brown hair? Six foot? Looks like he could solve a Rubik’s Cube?”
“Yes, dear.”
“But it was just a fall…he was just talking. He was hurt but he was talking and joking and he—” Another chill passes over my entire body as a cold sweat begins to form on my palms and face.
The ICU is where people go to die …. That is what Aunt June said to me just days before Mom passed. She grabbed my shoulders, held me straight, and said, “You have to stop fighting and get ready to say goodbye.” I was hell-bent on talking to every doctor, every nurse, every specialist.
I was demanding answers. Demanding fixes. Demanding help. I was a menace. I was breaking into the staff lounge to use their printer to leave new research studies for ALS patients on the attending’s desk. I was calling Dr. Torres, begging him to do something. Deep down I knew that it was over. That Mom’s body wastired and spent and ready to stop. But selfishly, I didn’t want herto.
I felt as if my mother was the only person who could help me grieve her. How could she leave me to do that alone?
Now, I want Caleb. I need Caleb to talk me down. To tell me everything will be okay. To help me breathe right.
“He’s in the best possible place he can be,” the doctor assures me. “I swear to you, he’s in very capable hands.”
It’s happening again. The shifting axis. The ending of worlds. And Caleb, my stable force, isn’t here to help me through it. “I-I can’t,” I stammer, panicked breaths coming in quick.
“Sarah,” Bo’s voice booms from down the hall. I lean forward to see him. To see them. Bo’s holding my niece, August, against his shoulder as Win takes off jogging toward me.
Relief settles into the space between us at the same time an unshakable heaviness falls over me. As if it’s safe to fall apart, the moment she’s here to pick up the pieces.
“Hi, babe,” Win says, kneeling in front of me and wrapping me up in a tight embrace. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re here…”
“Gus,” I choke out. “I don’t want her to—”
“She’s not going to remember a single thing, okay? She’s fine. There was no way Bo was going to stay home once I told him what happened. We packed everything we could grab into the car and broke about seven traffic laws on the way, but we’re here now. What’s going on?” As Win speaks she leans back, looking between the doctor and me. “Hi, sorry, I’m Win, her sister.”
“Hi,” Dr. Wenarchuk says warmly. She then calmly repeats everything she’d just told me moments ago for Bo and Win. Bo sways side to side as he holds Gus, who’s contentedly resting on his shoulder, thankfully turned away from us playing with the paws of a stuffed dog. I couldn’t stand for her to see me like this. I couldn’t look at her sweet little face right now without totally losing what’s left of my mind.
Bo’s eyebrows pinch together as he nods, taking in the information. He’s far more serious than I’ve ever seen him before and, for whatever reason, that adds to my disbelief that this is truly happening. Happy-go-lucky Bo is not supposed to look so solemn. Gus is never supposed to see us afraid. I was never supposed to cling onto Win in a waiting room ever again. Caleb should certainly not be in the ICU.
Win rubs slow circles on my arm and shoulder as she rises to stand behind me, asking questions I’d not thought of and can hardly make out through the humming in my ears as the hallway begins to rotate around me.
“I can show you to his room, but we do have a strict visiting policy regarding children, unfortunately. No visitors under the age of sixteen in the ICU after five, which we’re quickly approaching.”
“I don’t want Gus to—” Bo says, shaking his head silently as he looks at his wife.
No, I agree. None of us want her to see her Uncle Cay like this.
Win loosens her grip on my shoulder and moves to sit next to me. “Sar, I need you to listen to me carefully.” She ducks lower, trying to get my face to turn to face her. I can’t really see her past the tears flooding my vision, but I look at her anyway.
“Okay,” I whisper, feeling my lips curl into a deepening frown as I hold back a sob fighting its way up my throat.
Win’s glacier-blue eyes tear up, but she takes a long breath and straightens her shoulders, and the tears seem to retract somehow. “This is what we’re going to do,” she says with total authority. “On the drive here, I booked a room for four at the hotel down the street. There’s two beds and we have Gus’s travel cot. Gus will not go down for the night without me yet, so I am going to take her to the hotel now. Bo will stay with you until we can swap places, okay? Or, you can come back to the hotel for the night. Whatever you need…”
I nod, unable to do anything but inhale a shaking, wet breath.
“Have you eaten anything?” Bo asks, switching Gus to his other arm.
“We’ll get her fed. You too,” the doctor says, looking at Bo. “Any of you.”
“Win?” I whisper, leaning in close to her as she wipes a tear off my chin. “I’m really scared.”
“I know,” she says firmly, eyes holding mine as she places a steady hand on my cheek. “But Caleb is going to be fine, I promise.”
“What if—”
“Sarah, I mean it,” she says, her voice cracking, as her bottom lip quivers half a second before she grips back into control. “This is not like last time.” Then, she’s hugging me again. “I’ll be back soon,” she whispers into my shoulder before she stands, takes Gus from her husband, says something to him, kisses his cheek, and then leaves the same way she entered with my niece in tow.
Bo walks toward me and extends a hand in my direction. I immediately place my palm against his, and he wraps his fingers tightly around my whole hand. “It’s just you and me, kid.” He smiles softly, despite the heavy anxiety behind his eyes. “Let’s go see our guy,” he says, tugging me upward.
I cling onto him for life as I stand on shaky legs. He moves to hold me steady with an arm outstretched over my shoulder, and eventually I find enough strength to follow the doctor toward the elevators down the hall.
When we stop in front of the elevators, my phone vibrates inside of my pocket. I pull it out to see a message from Chellie.
Chellie : Cora is unable to get away from work tonight, but we will be there first thing tomorrow.
I type out a quick reply as the elevator doors open and Bo guides me inside.