Chevy Stevens - Always Watching

The police had sent cars to Mary’s, but I didn’t know if they’d made any arrests, or if Aaron was even alive. Finally, one of the doctors came out and told me that Robbie was stable and responding. They were going to move him to ICU while they ran some tests. I was allowed to visit with him briefly, but he was on pain control, which was making him sleepy, so we didn’t talk. I just held his hand, telling him he was going to be okay. His face was pale, but he managed a smile.

Kevin, worried about why I hadn’t shown up back at the hospital for a staff meeting, which I had completely forgotten about, called my cell when I was in the waiting room. Still in shock, I told him that my brother had had a heart attack. He came by to bring me coffee, and when he saw the police outside Robbie’s room, he knew there was more to the story. I filled him in, then he sat, flipping through a magazine, while I paced. My feet keeping time with my thoughts: Will Robbie make it? Is Lisa okay? What’s happening at the commune?

The doctor came to talk to me again. “Looks like he had a narrowing of one of his arteries. We’ll do bypass surgery in the morning and put in a stent. If all goes well, you should be able to see him tomorrow evening, and he’ll be home in a couple of days.” Before the doctor left, he added, “He’s probably had this problem for a while—he’s lucky he was with you.”

After the doctor had gone, I held my hand over my own heart, sagging back in the chair.

Kevin reached over and rubbed my shoulder. “Don’t worry. Anderson’s one of the best cardiac guys in the country.”

I gave him a smile. “Thanks, and thanks for sitting with me.”

“Of course. Do you want another coffee?”

“I’m good. I’m sure you have appointments. I don’t want to keep you. I’ll probably be here for a while.”

He nodded, but said, “I can reschedule. I don’t mind staying.”

I said, “No, please. Really, I’m fine on my own.”

He looked at the magazine he was holding, ruffled a few of the pages with his thumb, then said, “When you told me what had happened, it scared me.”

“I’m fine. Little banged up, but I’ll be okay.”

“I know, but it made me realize something.”

“What’s that?”

“Even though I don’t want to lose someone again, I still want to have a relationship in my life. I think it’s worth the risk. I think you’re worth the risk.”

“I’m sorry, Kevin, but I told you. That’s not what I want right now.”

“You told me that, but I’m not sure if it’s true.”

“It’s true.” We held gazes for a moment, then I looked away. “I’ve had a lot happen in the last twenty-four hours. I need some time alone, to sit and think.”

“Of course. If you need me—”

“I know where you are.” I said it with a smile, but the message was clear.

He dropped his magazine on the chair, also gave me a smile, and then headed to the elevator. After he left, I picked up his magazine and flipped through it, then stopped and looked at the coffee he’d brought me, now cold. I thought of his offer. I’d wanted a fresh coffee, wanted his companionship, but I’d still said no. What was wrong with me? Why had I reacted so negatively to his kind offer?

Then I thought of Francine, a sad, elderly woman wandering the halls, lonely, speaking to people from her past. A life lived with many friends and travels, a successful career, but no one left to sit by her side.

The police called later that evening. They’d arrested Aaron at the scene, and, still in custody, he’d been rushed to the hospital for a gunshot wound. He’d lost a lot of blood and was recovering on the same ward as Robbie, but with an armed guard. Daniel and Joseph had escaped. The police weren’t able to search the commune without a warrant, and at the moment they didn’t have enough evidence that either of them might be hiding there to get one.

They were now contacting authorities in other countries to keep an eye out for Daniel and Joseph, in case they fled to one of the foreign communes. They’d also arrested Mary, but she was refusing to talk, still protecting her son. She did admit it was her car he’d made his escape in, after Joseph had taken the truck.

The next morning, Robbie had his surgery. I wasn’t working, but I tried to busy myself at the hospital, so I’d be around in case anything went wrong. Finally, Dr. Anderson paged me that Robbie was in recovery and starting to wake up. The procedure was successful, but he’d had another minor heart attack during surgery, so they wanted to keep him a few days, just for observation. I could see him now.

I walked into Robbie’s room and slowed as I neared his bed. His eyes were closed, and my pulse spiked when I noticed how pale he looked.

He opened his eyes when I reached his side. “Some nurse took my damn hat.”

He smiled at himself. Hating his vulnerability but knowing that I’d get the joke. Robbie had never liked to be without his baseball cap—only time I remember him not wearing one was at funerals. We’d had far too many of those.

“I’ll get you another one.” I smiled back, relieved to see he was in good spirits. I’d been worried about depression—something men often experience after a heart attack, especially because he’d just lost Brew. I felt a wave of sadness, thinking of my brother going home to an empty house. Almost like he’d read my mind, Robbie’s smile also faded, and we held gazes.

I said, “I’m sorry about Brew. The police brought his body out of the tank and Steve Phillips took him to the vet. Do you want him cremated?”

Steve had seen all the police cars going to my brother’s place and followed behind. I’d only spoken to him for seconds before climbing into the back of the ambulance, but he’d promised to look after Brew.

Robbie nodded and looked away, fiddling with the bandage on his chest. His voice thick, he said, “Can I have some water?”

I handed him his cup, helping him with the straw. When he was done, I set the cup back on the side table and sat down in the chair. Trying to pull myself together from the upset of seeing my brother with tubes coming out of him, I took a moment to unwind the scarf from around my neck, then stuffed it in my pocket.

Speaking low, almost in a mumble, Robbie said, “You did that in the ambulance.”

Thinking he might be groggy from pain medication, I said, “Did what?”

“Took off your scarf and shoved it in your pocket.”

I narrowed my eyes, tried to remember what he was talking about—the trip in the ambulance still a blur. The only time I remembered taking off my scarf was after he’d flatlined and they were giving him chest compressions. The stress and heat in the ambulance had made me feel like I was strangling.

“You were unconscious….”

“It was more than that.” His voice was impatient. “You know I wouldn’t make this shit up. I saw you—like I was above you. You took the scarf off so fast you ripped your earring out. It’s under that stretcher I was on.”

Now I remembered the pinging sound, so focused on Robbie that I’d ignored it. I sat back in the chair, stunned into silence. How did he know that?

He said, “I don’t want to talk about this much—it scared the crap out of me, okay? And don’t go telling a bunch of people. They’ll think I’m nuts.”

Still trying to process what he’d just told me, I said, “Okay…”

“It was kind of like what Aaron described. I was outside, I could see you, and hear your thoughts. You were really scared—I tried to talk to you, but I couldn’t. I felt calm, though, and really peaceful.”

He had to have been hallucinating. I was about to explain that it was probably a neurological response to the lack of oxygen, then stopped when I realized that most hallucinations produced from an oxygen-starved brain would cause confusion or disorientation, not a calm, peaceful image. And I couldn’t explain how he knew my earring had fallen off. Even if he’d still had auditory response, there was no way he could’ve seen me remove my scarf.