Page 121
Story: Willow (DeBeers 1)
I went for my things, and we parted.
When I returned to the beach house, my mother showed me what she considered the most comfortable guest room, and then we kissed and hugged, and she went to her own bedroom. I thought I would drop into a dead sleep the moment my head hit the pillow, but I lay there with my eyes open, wondering how all this had happened so quickly and what I was to do next. A voice within urged me to rest and let the events to come show their faces in due time.
You can't deal with any of it now, anyway, Willow, I heard a voice that sounded so much like my father's tell me. Put your thoughts on pause control.
Don't worry.
Everything fortunate and unfortunate will be there to greet youwhen you awaken.
You can count on that,
.
I felt the presence of someone and opened my eyes. My mother was standing in the doorway. her hands clasped against her breasts. She was already dressed.
"What is it?" I asked, sitting up quickly.
"I woke up. I thought I heard Linden calling for me. so I phoned the hospital, and they told me he was awake. but he was still very disoriented and confused. He must be very frightened. I have to go to him." she said.
"I'll be up and ready in ten minutes."
"I could just call for a taxi. You've hardly had any sleep," she said.
Indeed, only four hours had gone by.
"I'm fine. I couldn't sleep, anyway."
"I'll make some coffee so we can have that, at least," she said, and went off while I threw cold water on my face, ran a brush through my hair, and put on my clothes.
She had the coffee waiting for me.
"I just made us some toast." she said. "I thought we should have something in our stomachs."
I nibbled on a piece with some jelly and swallowed some coffee. A few minutes later, she and I got into my car and drove out of the estate.
Linden was still critical. of course. and they wanted only one of us to go in. I sat and waited. getting myself some more coffee from the coffee machine. She was in the intensive care unit only a little more than twenty minutes before she emerged looking very distraught.
"How is he?" I asked immediately.
She shook her head. "He didn't seem to recognize me. There was nothing in his eyes to indicate he had. One of the nurses said he mumbled something very strange."
"What?"
"He wanted to know why there were so many skeletons walking about, including her. It's as if he thinks he's in one of his own paintings or something."
"Don't think anything terrible about this. Mother. He's just out of surgery. Wait until you get a chance to speak with the doctor."
She nodded, suddenly looking terribly exhausted and weak. "We should go home, and you should try to get some real rest." "I'll rest here," she said. "You go back."
"No, I won't leave you like this."
She smiled, "We're still practically strangers to each other. Willow, and yet you've already been kinder to me than people I've known my whole life."
"Get used to it," I said, and she widened her smile to a small laugh.
I did talk her into going to the hospital cafeteria for some hot food, which restored both of us somewhat. When we returned to the ICU, the doctor was there. He stepped out to speak with us.
"If S too early to tell the extent of it." he began, "but your son will be experiencing some posttraumatic stress in reaction to his accident. I'm not going to stand here and give you a laundry list of everything that might occur. Suffice it to say," he added with a tone of supreme authority. that there will be some effects, and he will probably need some therapy. In the final analysis, it might be nothing much. really"
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