Chapter 44
Sara walked casually toward Jake’s house. She noted that her mother wasn’t at the library, and that struck her as odd. Ms. Beverly was likely off celebrating the final day of Cicada Song, she finally reasoned, and that was probably for the best. Her mother didn’t need the heart-wrenching disappointment that would most likely burden Sara and Rachel. She moved on, turning down Jake and Rachel’s street.
She knew that there was no hope for Jake, but she held onto the cross necklace and prayed, nonetheless. It was foolish, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Hello, Sara,” Riley James said.
She was so distracted that she hadn’t even noticed his taxi parked on the curb outside of Jake’s house.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I just dropped Stan off. Kid looked like crap. So what’s going on in there? Jake’s not passing is he?”
Sara turned away without answering. She was in no mood for Riley’s tactless inquiries. The front door opened, and she was surprised to find her mother standing just inside the doorway with Percy and Melba Acres. Melba had a concerned look on her face and peered nervously from Sara to the other side of the room where Stan leaned against a window frame, looking out. Phil was nearby as well and offered a shy smile. She nodded at him and then peered back at Stan. She was hurt by his refusal to acknowledge her, but she would talk to him later. There was something else that needed done first.
“I love you Melba,” she said while giving the nervous woman a hug. She didn’t know about what Stan had done last night, but she knew about the lie he’d been keeping.
“I’m so sorry, dear,” Melba said, crying now. “I didn’t know.”
“I’m not mad. Stanley Sr. just made a mistake is all.” It wasn’t entirely true of Sara’s feelings but certainly true enough to ease Melba’s mind. “I still love you.”
Melba didn’t respond, so Sara left her to Ms. Beverly’s care and headed toward Stan.
“How’s the hangover?”
“Better than when Ellis asked me about it.”
He still refused to look at her.
“I’m mad about the lie, but I’ll get over it,” she said. “I’m not mad at you, though.”
“Stop, Sara. I’m here for Jake. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it.”
“Well, you’re getting it anyway,” she paused, “because that’s what Jake would do.”
Stan solemnly lowered his head. He remained silent for a while before glancing up the stairwell to where Jake’s room was.
“Do you think it’ll work?” he finally asked quietly.
She didn’t answer and he seemed to understand. She didn’t know what to think. She wanted it to work but refused to believe that it would. She’d been hurt enough this week.
A door opened from upstairs and down came Ellis with another man who Sara assumed was Dr. Buck. The doctor had been with Ellis when he arrived at Jake house the previous day, but Sara wasn’t in any mind to acknowledge him then. She smiled at the realization that he was actually a decent looking man, though sexy was a stretch. Brotherly might have been a better label.
“Everyone,” Ellis said, addressing the room. “This is Dr. Buck Crosby. He’s done some research on vegetative states and would like to explain what we’re hoping to accomplish today. Not to get your hopes up, but just so you’re informed.”
Dr. Buck smiled warmly. He scanned the room, perhaps pegging names with descriptions given by Ellis, and then nodded.
“Hello, everybody,” he said. “I want to remind you that what we’re doing here is an experimental procedure. There is no miracle cure for Jake’s condition, but there is an imidazopyridine hypnotic that’s had an unexpected reaction with the condition. The drug is called Zolpidem, though you might know it better as Ambien.
“Now,” Dr. Buck continued, “Zolpidem is typically used to initiate sleep or to relax someone who is showing signs of restlessness, and that is how its effects on the permanent vegetative state were first discovered. In 1994, a man named Louis Viljoen was hit by a truck, leaving him in a type of coma. Five years later, he was having involuntary spasms in his left arm; and, wishing to make him more comfortable, his physician prescribed that he take Zolpidem. Viljoen’s mother administered the drug, and he was speaking incoherently within thirty minutes. His condition and motor functions improved with each usage of the drug, and he is now, for all intents and purposes, normal. Where portions of his brain were black and dead prior to the use of Zolpidem, afterward it was lit up with neural activity. That physician and others have since tested Zolpidem on numerous cases and results show that sixty-percent of the people tested awoke after using the drug.”
Percy raised his hand, interrupting Dr. Buck. “How can a sleepin’ drug wake up someone like Jake?”
“Unknown, but that’s part of the reason why it’s still in the testing stage. I’ve heard theories that, while in a vegetative state, a person’s brain cells may not necessarily be—dead for lack of better terms—but in a type of hibernation so deep it’s perceived as dead. This happens with the heart and thyroid. There’s reason to believe that the brain couldn’t do the same thing. If this is true, then it is my belief that Zolpidem merely reawakens those cells.”
“How did you come by this knowledge?” Ms. Beverly asked.
“Ellis and I had a mutual friend whose brain was severely damaged during an automobile accident, and I immediately began researching potential cures. Zolpidem’s unlikely effect on PVS victims was the only thing I could find that might have been able to save her. I wished to apply it to our friend, but her parents refused treatment, believing instead that their faith should heal her. I discovered, after her passing, that our friend could not be saved due to the level and type of brain damage, but Zolpidem might have given us a little more time. We might have been able to say good bye.” Dr. Buck stopped and Sara could see the pain that Mandy’s passing brought him. He cleared his throat and concluded with, “I’ve been researching the drug ever since.”
“So if it works,” Phil asked, “we’ll get Jake back?”
“For a limited time,” Dr. Buck said. “The effects of Zolpidem do wear off after two to four hours, and its power as a sedative only warrants usage once a day. So, theoretically, he’d only be awake a few hours each day.”
Phil raised his hand again. “What will he remember?”
“Before the accident, I don’t know. We can’t know for sure until he wakes up, if he wakes up, but studies show that, if the treatment does work, he should retain what happens day to day during his waking hours.”
“But what about the damage?” Stan asked hopelessly from the window. “I was there when he got shot. I don’t understand how someone with that much brain damage could ever recover.”
Dr. Buck nodded. “That was my main concern, as well. However, Ms. Ramsey allowed me to study Jake’s records, and he was very lucky in how the bullet hit him. It certainly caused its share of damage, but not near the amount I was expecting. I believe the distance of the shot plus the deflection of his hand stopped the bullet from doing the optimum amount of damage possible. In addition, the doctors did a wonderful job saving his brain, as there seems to be little to no swelling or scarring damage, and his oxygen levels are good. Every head injury is different; but, in Jake’s case, if he is within that sixty-percentile, I think he could fully benefit from the drug.”
Everyone began discussing what they had learned, but Sara was tired of waiting. She hated wrestling with her emotions and just wanted to know whether it would work or not.
“When will you be administering the drug?” she finally asked.
“I already have, a few minutes prior to coming down,” Dr. Buck answered. “Ms. Ramsey is up there with him now and she…”
Dr. Buck was cut short as Rachel’s voice suddenly rang throughout the house. Everyone froze. Then they startled when Rachel called out Jake’s name and raced for the stairs.
&
nbsp; Sara was still frozen with her heart stuck in her throat. It wasn’t until Ms. Beverly gently touched her arm that she began to walk toward the stairs.
“No matter what happens,” Ms. Beverly said softly in her ear, “I will be right beside you.”