Ryan Wiley - Disappearance

“Yes, I got it,” I say.

“OK, good. I’ll get a report drafted up. It’s imperative you remember every detail of this story. Are you sure everything is crystal clear, Andrew?”

“Yes, Deputy Vogul. Thank you so much!”

“Don’t mention it dear. Everything is going to be all right, I promise. I’ll make sure the nurses give you the opportunity to see your wife soon. Take care of yourself. I’ll be in touch.” With that, she gets up and walks out of the room.

I tell my parents my conversation with Deputy Vogul, including the modified story she told me. I leave out any details about the pictures Deputy Vogul showed me; I’m not sure they’re ready to hear about that yet. I make it very clear they are not to tell anyone what I think really happened.

About twenty minutes go by before Nurse Jackie walks in. I’m sure she’s dying to know what Deputy Vogul and I discussed, but I think she’s too scared to ask with my parents around.

“Good news, Andrew. You can go see Abby now.” After a brief pause she continues, “I’m not sure of her condition, but keep in mind having a loved one near can sometimes help with the healing process. Be sure to give her as much love and support as you can.”

I’m taken off guard. I finally get to see Abby! Even though she’s in bad shape, I still can’t wait to see her. I tell Nurse Jackie I’m ready and, with that, I get moved to a wheelchair. I’ve come a long way in the last few days. Eating, drinking, and all of that other stuff are becoming more normal. They still don’t want me walking around, though. They say my medications can cause sudden dizziness so it’s best that I remain sitting for a couple more days until they’re reduced. I’ve taken a few steps, though, and seem to be doing fine so far.

Nurse Jackie pushes me in the wheelchair with my parents following along behind her. I’m really starting to like Nurse Jackie. There’s something about someone taking care of you during your most vulnerable moments that gives you a strong emotional connection with them. I make some small talk with her, asking her where she’s from and where she went to school. She’s from small-town Ohio like I am, and still in grad school at Ohio State. We talk about the football team, but when she tells me we’re almost there I start to get incredibly nervous and the small talk ends.

I take a deep breath and think about what I’m about to see. What kind of shape will she be in?

“Here’s her room,” Nurse Jackie tells me. Outside the door are Abby’s parents. When I’m pushed in, the room is quite large — much larger than mine. Abby’s bed sits in the center against a wall. There aren’t any tubes or wires hooked up to her, which is a huge relief to me. Maybe they’re there but at least hidden from my view. Nurse Jackie pushes me next to her bed and leaves. Both Abby’s and my parents are in the room with me — big family gathering.

“Hey there, sweetie. How are you doing?” It chokes me just to say this. I look at Abby’s face and it’s still as beautiful as the first day we met. Even without makeup Abby is very pretty.

She turns over slowly and tries to give me a smile. She then opens her mouth to speak, but not much comes out. I think she says “Hey” but it’s hard for me to tell so I push my wheelchair up closer to her.

“Abby, I love you so much, it’s so great to see you. Everything is going to be OK sweetie, I promise.” I put my hand on her arm and massage it gently. I get a hopeless feeling knowing there’s really nothing I can do for her. No way to help her get better. She tries to speak again, but nothing comes out. She gives off a look of pain.

“It’s OK. You don’t have to say anything now. Do you want some water or anything?” This is the only thing I can think of to do for her. When she nods, I’m happy to know I can help. I take the water sitting on the tray next to her and hold it up to her mouth. She takes a few swallows and I give her a big smile that she reciprocates. I stroke her hair and take in how much I missed seeing her face.

For the next minute, there’s really not much I can say — at least, not with everyone around me. Somehow, Abby’s father must pick up on what I’m thinking.

“Why don’t we leave them alone for a few minutes,” he says. With that, everyone clears out of the room leaving just Abby and me. With the blinds down, nobody is there to see us. That’s why I’m shocked by what happens next.

“Andrew, listen to me!” Abby says with surprising clarity. “We don’t have a lot of time, so pay attention. How are you doing? Did they say how much longer you would be in here?”

“Ummm, they said they were slowly taking me off my medications. I’m guessing in a few more days they might be able to let me go.

“Good, get out of here as soon as possible. Just as soon as they’ll let you.”

“Abby, what’s going on?”

“There’s no time to explain. You need to get out of here as soon as you can. When you do, a man in a black car is going to come after you.”

“A man in a black car? Abby, what are you talking about?”

“There’s no time to explain, Andrew! Once he does, kill him. You have to kill him!”

“Abby, are you OK? I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine, just do it! He’s going to try to kill you. If the police are involved that will only make it more likely he succeeds. You’ll have the element of surprise in your favor. Buy a gun and do it. Don’t come back to the hospital until you do. Do it as soon as possible, though; I can’t fake being sick much longer. The doctors are starting to become suspicious.”

If this were anyone other than Abby, I’d have thought they had gone completely bat shit crazy. But I know her better than anyone else on Earth. She wouldn’t be saying these things unless deep down inside she knew they were true. Still, the part of me that has to know every last detail speaks out.

“Abby, just tell me what this is all about. Why on Earth do I have to kill someone?”

She has no time to answer because the door opens and a doctor I’ve not seen before walks in.

“Oh, well hello,” he says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Abby had company. I presume you are…” he stops himself and checks his notebook. “You must be Andrew, correct?”

“Yes, that’s me.” He introduces himself as Dr. Stevens and we shake hands.

“I’m terribly sorry you have to see your wife in this shape. I’m doing everything in my power to help, but I’m afraid progress has been very slow. Nothing seems to work.”

For a brief moment I think this guy is joking with me. Then I remember Abby is putting on her best acting show. I look over and she’s lying back down on her side with her eyes closed. How did she move so quickly?

Abby is much better at acting than I am. I would never be able to pull off fake incoherence with a doctor like she’s doing. Of course, she did do plays and other theater all through college, so a comatose patient should be an easy role for her.

Dr. Stevens politely asks me to leave, and I wonder how much longer it will take before he realizes the true state of Abby’s condition.

Over the next couple days, I go over what Abby told me what seems like a million times. Each time it makes less and less sense. Physically though I’m doing extremely well. Nurse Jackie goes on and on about different charts and numbers. I’m a numbers guy so I listen, but I don’t know what good and bad numbers are so it’s hard for me to follow. Bottom line, though, she tells me I’ll be free to go tomorrow if I want to.

“Yes, I can’t wait to get out of this hospital for a few days,” I tell her.

She looks at me with some concern. Then, before I know it, she blurts out, “Don’t you want to be with your wife?”