J. Jance - Trial By Fire

Moments later a new patient arrived, an older woman. As the burn-unit staff swung into action, the gurney was wheeled into room 812. The door had barely closed when her relatives churned out of the elevator and into the waiting room.

“I told Carol a thousand times that those damned cigarettes would be the death of her!”

The speaker was a silver-haired lady who moved with the aid of a walker and had to be well into her eighties.

“She told me over and over to mind my own business. Now look what’s happened. I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

She burst into tears and sank into the nearest chair, the one formerly occupied by Serenity Langley. She reached into a large purse that was perched in a basket between the handles of the walker. Pulling out a lace-edged hanky, she gave her nose a noisy blow.

“Now, Sarah,” an elderly gentleman said, patting her knee. “What’s there to forgive? This isn’t your fault. You know as well as I do that if you had tried to take your sister’s Camels away, she would have made both your lives a living hell. Alva’s ninety-three, for Pete’s sake. That’s a good run for anybody. If she wants to burn herself up along with that old recliner of hers in front of reruns of Dr. Phil, so what? God love her. If it kills her, let it. If you ask me, dying that way is better than dying of lung cancer anyday.”

“But what’s Carol going to think?” Sarah asked, sniffling. “You know how she is. She always blames me for everything. She’s going to say I should have done something to prevent it.”

“Let her harp at you as much as she wants,” the old man advised. “Just don’t pay any attention. Besides, I didn’t see her stepping up to the plate when Alva showed up in Phoenix needing a place to live.”

“She’s so much younger than Alva and I are, Roy.”

Roy was already shaking his head.

“Maybe, at her age, it’s about time she got over being the baby of the family,” he said. “When Alva ended up on your doorstep, did Carol offer to help out? Nosiree! She didn’t lift a finger. As far as she was concerned, Alva’s problems were your problems and nobody else’s.

“As for the cigarettes? If Carol says word one to you about that, I hope you call her on it. If she expects you to be able to take Alva’s cigarettes away, maybe she should take a look in the mirror. What do you think would happen if you suggested she should give up her blasted Captain Morgan? That’s not gonna happen, never in a hundred years!” He snorted. “And speaking of which,” he added. “If you ask me, anyone who would swill down rum and coke night after night, year after year doesn’t have much room to talk. That’ll kill her just as dead as Alva’s cigarettes are killing her.”

It could have been a comedy routine, but it wasn’t. This elderly couple and the woman’s even more elderly sister were here in the hospital dealing with their own set of life-and-death issues, just like James’s family and friends, and Mimi’s.

They were all asking the same questions. Who would live? Who would die? Why? And who would be left to shoulder the blame? Ali didn’t know the severity of Alva’s wounds, but her age, like Mimi’s, would count against her survival. James had youth on his side. That might mean he had a better chance of surviving, but there was no way to tell how he would be affected long-term.

As Ali silently mulled over the blended fates of the people in the room, Win and Serenity returned from their lunch break.

Noticing that a pair of new arrivals had taken over the chairs she and Win had previously occupied, Serenity gave the old folks a hard-edged stare calculated to let them know they had blundered into reserved seating and they ought to move along.

Serenity’s reproof was relatively ineffective due to her stepping off the elevator with her cell phone glued to her ear. Sarah and Roy, oblivious to what Serenity considered an error in judgment, remained where they were, both of them engrossed in watching a televised baseball game on a set where the volume was now turned as high as it would go.

“I remembered something else,” Serenity said into her phone as she flounced into another chair. “Call me back when you can.” She closed her phone and looked at her brother. “I swear, half the time Donna doesn’t seem to have her mind on the job, and I’m really tired of it. Yes, I know she’s been around for years. She’s familiar with the clients and she knows the business, but it’s about time she figured out that she isn’t indispensable. I’ll bet I could find someone else to do her job in no time, and I wouldn’t have to pay that new person nearly as much as I’m paying her.”

“So do it,” Win said, shrugging. “If Donna’s not pulling her weight, get rid of her. You don’t owe her anything.”

The door to Mimi’s room opened and Hal burst into the hallway. His face was flushed. His hair stood on end. Looking distraught, he hurried over to the nurses’ station. “Where is she?”

“Who?” the charge nurse asked.

“Sister Anselm. I called the hotel to ask her to come back to the hospital. The person at the front desk told me that she never came back there after she left to go to the hospital last night.”

“I’m sorry. I haven’t seen her, either. Is there something I can help you with?” the nurse asked.

“It’s the pain,” Hal said. “It’s getting worse. That one dose of morphine doesn’t seem to be doing the trick, but I’m afraid to give her more than that.”

“Come on,” the charge nurse said, hurrying out from behind the counter. “Let me see what’s going on.”

They started for Mimi’s room, but Serenity sprang to her feet and blocked their path.

“Don’t you dare let him go back in there!” Serenity shrieked at the nurse. “Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s claiming she’s in pain so he can slip her an overdose. You’ve got to stop him. Don’t let him do this. He’s killing her right here in front of everybody, and you’re going to let him get away with it.”

“Out of my way!” Hal Cooper growled. “Now!”

“Then I’m going inside, too,” Serenity said.

“No,” Hal replied. “You’re not.”

His fists were balled. He looked as though he was ready to deck her. Pushing past her, Hal and the nurse disappeared inside. Serenity seemed ready to follow, but before she could, Mark Levy left his spot in the corner and put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

“I think you need to stay out here.”

“Let me go,” she said furiously, trying to shake his grip. “What are you doing? Who the hell do you think you are?”

They had been in the same waiting room for hours, but Mark’s presence hadn’t penetrated Serenity’s armor of self-absorption. From the surprised expression on her face as she peered up at him, Ali was sure she was seeing the young man for the first time.

“I’m nobody,” Mark said, letting go of her arm and shrugging his narrow shoulders. “Just a friend of the family.”

Ali knew that was true. He was a longtime friend of James’s family, and now a very new friend of Hal Cooper’s family, too. But he was a long damned way from being a nobody.

As Mark stepped away from Serenity and returned to his seat, Serenity caught sight of the bright red sign. “What’s this?” she demanded.

A second nurse hurried to the door to join the one who was already there. “It’s a DNR,” she said. “It means no heroic measures.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Serenity retorted. “What it really means is you’re going to let him kill her.”

Where’s Hal? Why isn’t he here? And where’s the nun? Or a nurse? Or a doctor? I need them. I need someone to punch the button. I need it. Please.