Chapter 18 #4
"I am packing as we speak, motek.” Here, she uses a Hebrew term of endearment that means, roughly, sweetie. “Dad has a helicopter and pilot on standby to take us to the compound, and we will ride the very fast jet to you. I will be there in a few hours, my girl."
"Um. Just…prepare yourself, okay? I'm…um. It's not great, Mom."
"But you are okay?"
"I will be."
"You aren't lying?"
"No. Promise. Apparently it was touch and go for a bit, though."
"Story!"
"Don't yell at me. I was kidnapped by an international ring of sex-slavers and chased all over this stupid island by professional killers. I didn't run away to Cancun for spring break."
A sigh. "I know. I know. I'm sorry. I've just been so worried."
"I've never been so scared in my life."
A long pause. "How is Killian?"
I hear the curiosity she's too respectful and circumspect to ask directly. "Just say what you want to say, Mom."
"That is what I want to say. How is Killian?"
"Infected. He refused to let the doctor here treat him until he knew I was going to be okay. But he'll be okay, she says."
"Men are so stupid, sometimes."
"Tell me about it."
"Fine," she huffs. "I'll ask. You and Killian…"
I smile at the ceiling. "It turns out we've been in love with each other since we were both kids; we just both hid it from each other a little too well."
"Wait. You mean to tell me that boy never realized you have been hopelessly in love with him most of your life? You were not exactly subtle about it, motek.”
"It was that obvious?" I ask, not realizing she knew.
"I am your mother."
"He's been a rockstar through this, Mom. I wouldn’t be here if not for him."
"Something tells me he is going to say the same thing."
"Maybe."
"Oh, your father says we must go. I will see you as soon as possible." A pause. "Ani ohev otech."
"I love you too, Mom."
"Rest. You are safe now. You will be home before you know it."
"Not Minneapolis. I'm gonna need to stay with you and Dad for a while."
"As long as you need." A sniffle. "Okay. I must go. Your father is very impatient to see you."
"Tell him I love him, Mom. Tell him his training saved our lives."
A few silent moments pass, and then I hear background sounds—a car door closing, an engine, the rustling of a phone changing hands.
"Liebchen. I must drive very fast, so I will keep this brief.
I am proud of you. You are a strong, brave, capable woman and I am proud.
It has been the privilege of my life to get to be your father. "
"God, Dad."
"Do not make me cry, liebchen." He says something muffled to Mom and then comes back to me. "Killian. Tell me only one thing. Does he deserve you?"
"And then some."
"He will make you happy?"
"He already has."
"No details of this, bitte." Of ziss.
I laugh. “Ow, ow, ow. Don't make me laugh."
"Ribs?"
“Yeah."
"Shot in the vest?"
"Four from a carbine at under a hundred yards."
He curses in three languages. "And?"
“One to the side. Almost hit my colon but didn't. It's out, now."
"And?"
"Mild concussion."
"You gave as good as you got, though." This isn't a question.
"And then some."
"That is my girl."
"Killian did most of it."
"Truly? I wondered how he would be when it came to it."
"He's everything, Dad."
"Then I am glad for you. This love between you will do more to heal you from all you have experienced than anything else.
This is my experience with your mother, at least. She has saved my soul.
I would have been lost to the horrors of my life already, if not for her.
" His tone changes, goes brusque. "I must focus on driving so I can bring your mother to you safely. Rest, okay?"
"God, if one more person tells me to rest. Ugh!"
He laughs. "You will hear it many more times while you are healing. I know this from experience. You will be sick of it."
"I already am."
“Ich weiss.” A pause. "Ich liebe dich, meine Tochter."
"Love you too, Dad."
"We will be there as fast as flight will allow. Sleep, now."
The line clicks as he hangs up, and I let my eyes slide closed—and it's only now that I truly realize the full weight of the burden of fear I was carrying.
Dr. Lia sweeps in a bit later; more asleep than awake, I’m only partially aware as she takes my temperature and blood pressure, checks my wounds, and adjusts the dosage of the meds on the IV.
She recovers her phone and then crouches beside me, murmuring quietly, "Your young man, Killian. I have stitched his wounds. There is no internal damage, but his scapula is badly broken. The bullet which passed through his arm was a low…ehh…velocità.” She frowns, thinking.
"Velocity. It was a low velocity bullet, so the damage to his muscles is not so very terrible.
In time, with fisioterapia, he will probably not know any lasting problems."
"The infection?" I ask, mumbling, half asleep.
"Treating with the antibiotic. No problem.
Fever is lowering already. You are the more bigger concern.
Four of your ribs were…" she explodes her fingers.
"Rotto molto gravemente. Um. Shatter. Like a clay jar.
You are molto, molto fortunato that your lung was not poked through.
" She shakes her head. "You are a very strong woman. "
I don't feel strong.
I feel emotionally ravaged, mentally exhausted, and physically destroyed.
I want my mom and dad.
I want Killian to hold me.
I can't have either of those things, yet.
All I can do is sleep.