Silence filled the nurses’ station on the recovery floor at Southern General Hospital. Jennifer was still on the computer as her other four colleagues prepared a cart for the morning medication run. Nurse Ann was somewhere on the floor, although the five nurses didn’t know exactly where she was. The nurses worked in the stillness as their soft shoes shuffled on the hard floor like feathers painting the ground. Even though their gentleness and grace had failed to generate noise, the faint sound of the tremendous rain mesmerized them. It was low and distant, but provided those out of its path with a sense of relief for the protection of a physical structure. Suddenly, a thunderous boom vibrated the building. Jennifer stopped and focused on the storm’s sensations. A flowerpot near her chattered on the counter, powerless to the thunder.
A ding from the elevator sounded, jarring Jennifer’s attention. Something about it sounded unusual. It sounded more prominent and rawer than normal like a shriek of terror. Jennifer watched the silver door, anticipating the person who filled its confined space. Then, it opened. Jennifer’s gaze fell on a frantic face covered by water-soaked hair. It was Carol.
Lois’ sister took in the openness on the recovery floor. The mess of the bustling entryway was the opposite of her new space. The incredible rain brought in more business for the hospital, a business that paradoxically didn’t want new clients. Carol had barely received a response from the flurrying first-floor information desk, and only after raising her voice did they direct her to the fifth floor. But now, Carol was in a much different world.
Jennifer stood up when she saw Carol.
“Uh, Lois Belkin. I’m her sister. Do you know where she is?” Carol asked frantically.
Her words roused the attention of the other four nurses. They all remained silent for a moment trying to digest not only the words, but Carol’s frenzied delivery. Jennifer began to gesture toward Lois’ room, but a voice cut her off, “Right this way, dear. I’m Nurse Ann.”
Nurse Ann emerged from the side hallway and gravitated toward Carol. She gestured for her to follow and shook Carol’s trembling hand on their way to the west wing. They moved quickly through the long hallway like water racing through a broken dike.
“Oh God, I just found out about her. She was just out for her anniversary. This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Carol quivered.
Nurse Ann put her hand on Carol’s back. The truth was out in the open, and Carol’s voyage to her sister’s side was almost over.
“I know this has all been very strange, but your sister is in good hands.”
Both turned the corner. While nearly fifty identical doors stood shut on both sides of the hallway, the sole door with two officers outside it drew Carol’s attention. She hoped their presence was for a different patient, but as Nurse Ann headed toward the door, Carol realized they were guarding the room that housed her sister.
“Why are they here?” Carol asked.
“It’s a long story.”
The two patrolmen sat up, curious about the new visitor. The men didn’t speak; they only watched. Nurse Ann pushed open the door. Carol paused between the two patrolmen like a commoner standing before a guarded queen. She was afraid to enter, terrified of confronting the condition of its occupant. Carol hoped to hear Lois’ familiar voice. However, Carol didn’t hear anything, only the eerie electronic beep of a beating heart. The heartbeat remained constant and unchanged, which further raised Carol’s level of anxiety. Then, as the group stood in silence, a muffled yet distinct sound revealed itself—the sound of pouring rain.
Nurse Ann held open the door as Carol widened her eyes to behold a sight that she could never have imagined. Her sister, the princess of the family, lay in the center of the tranquil room awaiting her prince. A cast and sling were positioned on her right arm resting on her side. Her other hand was positioned on top of the tight covers, lightly draped on her abdomen. Her hand moved faintly up and down as her lungs involuntarily filled with the cool, dry air. Carol gravitated without speech and without thought toward her sister.
“Oh, Lois,” she mumbled.
Carol placed her hand on Lois’ face. It was soft and warm, which puzzled Carol, but then she realized it probably felt that way because her own hand was cold. The constant beep echoed next to her ear as she watched her sister’s inanimate face starved of any outward life.
Nurse Ann watched on the side as the two sisters bonded. She looked at Carol’s hand petting her sister’s cheek. The added color to Lois’ face absorbed Nurse Ann, as the comatose woman seemed healthier and more alive than she had previously remembered. Then, she heard the sound of sobbing. It was much more intense than a normal cry as only a deep emotional burst could produce Carol’s gasping and rocking body. Nurse Ann walked over and placed a compassionate hand on Carol’s back, offering her touch as comfort.
“She arrived last night from the crash. I guess you heard that. Well, her condition is stable. Aside from a broken arm and some bumps and bruises, we are just waiting for her to wake up,” Nurse Ann explained.
“When will she wake up?” Carol asked through her tears.
“You can never tell with these things. Sometimes it takes days or weeks, but I do know that having family nearby helps significantly. They say that your sense of hearing still works even if you’re in a coma,” Nurse Ann said as she watched the sorrow in Carol’s face. “I’m sure now that her sister is here, she will have something to wake up for.”
Nurse Ann pushed a chair to the side of the bed. Carol sat down without taking her gaze from her sister. She leaned in close to kiss Lois’ forehead as her nostrils received a hint of an unforgettable aroma, her sister’s natural scent. It massaged Carol’s emotions and triggered a burst of memories to flow through her mind—Lois greeting her at the front door, her sister wearing a summer sundress during an afternoon shopping trip, the sight of Lois nuzzling Roger at a cocktail party. Just as quickly, the pictures regressed in time as Carol remembered running as a young girl through a summer night’s rain with the six-year-old Lois following closely. Carol felt like she was back at that night, the older sister leading the way through the water. Unexpectedly, the images vanished. Her sister’s laughter and full-of-life expression was now replaced with a stillness that she had only witnessed during Lois’ sleep. But this sleep was such that even the hand of a loved one could not wake. Carol wondered whether Lois was waiting to awaken for that one person who held the key to her heart, Roger. While Lois’ dilemma lay in front of her, Roger’s absence was even more frightening. Carol knew that Roger stood by Lois’ side the last time she had spoken to her sister, but now, only an empty space was next to her.
“Where is Roger? Is he here?” Carol asked.
“Well, he, uh…” Nurse Ann hesitated.
“What?”
Through the silence, Carol glanced back at the door where the two patrolmen were perched. A sudden chill traversed her body as Nurse Ann’s dithering could only mean something negative.
A flash of lightning bounced into the room, catching the women’s attention. Quickly, a crash of thunder chased it. Nurse Ann stared out the window as her voice echoed inside the hospital room, “A good police detective is on his way. He will fill you in.”
Chapter 23