Лиза Макманн - Gone

“Of course. Thank you, sir.”

“I’ll see you Monday for our meeting if not before. Take care, Janie.” Captain hangs up.

Janie flips her phone shut and groans. “What is with everybody calling me at eight-thirty in the freaking morning?”

9:24 a.m.

Showered, fed, brushed. Janie feels a tiny bit better after taking an ibuprofen and drinking three glasses of water. “Never again,” she mutters to the mirror. She calls Cabel back. “Sorry it took me so long.” Janie explains what happened last night as she walks across the yards, up his driveway, and in to his house.

“Hey,” she says, hanging up.

Cabel grins and hangs up too. “Did you get breakfast?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna go for a drive?”

“I—sure. I was actually thinking about going to the hospital.”

Cabel nods. “Cool.”

“Not that I feel obligated, because I don’t.”

“Nor should you.”

Janie is lost in thought. Going over what her mother said last night, although much of it is fuzzy after all that beer. “I think,” she says slowly, “he’s probably not a good person.”

“What?”

“Just a feeling. Never mind. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure you want to go if he’s a bad person?”

“Yeah. I mean, I want to find out for sure. I just want to know, I guess. If he’s bad. Or not.”

Cabel shrugs, but he understands. They take off.

9:39 a.m.

At the hospital, Janie moves carefully through the hallways as usual, watching for open doors.

She gets caught in a weak dream but only for a few seconds—she barely even has to pause in step. They stand outside Henry’s room, Janie’s hand tense on the handle.

Static and shockingly bright colors. Again, Janie nearly crumples to her knees, but this time she is more prepared. She steps blindly toward the bed and Cabel helps her safely to the floor as her head pounds with noise. It’s more intense than ever.

Just when Janie thinks her eardrums are going to burst, the static dulls and the scene flickers to a woman in the dark once again. It’s the same woman as the day before, Janie’s certain, though she can’t make out any distinguishing features. And then Janie sees that the man is there too.

It’s Henry, of course. It’s his dream. He’s in the shadows, sitting on a chair, watching the woman.

Henry turns, looks at Janie and blinks. His eyes widen and he sits up straighter in his chair. “Help me!” he pleads.

And then, like a broken filmstrip, the picture cuts out and the static is back, louder than ever, constant screamo in her ears. Janie struggles, head pounding. Tries pulling out of the dream, but she can’t focus—the static is messing up her ability to concentrate.

She’s flopping around on the floor now. Straining.

Thinks Cabel is there, holding her, but she can’t feel anything now.

The bright colors slam into her eyes, into her brain, into her body. The static is like pinpricks in every pore of her skin.

She’s trapped.

Trapped in the nightmare of a man who can’t wake up.

Janie struggles again, feeling like she’s suffocating now. Feeling like if she doesn’t get out of this mess, she might die here. Cabe! she screams in her head. Get me out of here!

But of course he can’t hear her.

She gathers up all her strength and pulls, groaning inwardly with such force that it hurts all the way through. When the nightmare flickers to the picture of the woman again, Janie is just barely able to burst from her confines.

She gasps for breath.

“Janie?” Cabel’s voice is soft, urgent.

His finger paints her skin from forehead to cheek, his hand captures the back of her neck, and then he lifts her, carries her to the chair. “Are you okay?”

Janie can’t speak. She can’t see. Her body is numb. All she can do is nod.

And then, there’s a sound from across the room.

It’s certainly not Henry.

Janie hears Cabel swear under his breath.

“Good morning,” says a man. “I’m Doctor Ming.”

Janie sits up as straight as she can in the chair, hoping Cabel’s standing in front of her.

“Hi,” Cabe says. “We—I—how’s he doing today? We just got here.”

Dr. Ming doesn’t answer immediately and Janie breaks out into a sweat. Oh, God, he’s staring at me.

“Are you . . . ?”

“We’re his kids.”

“And is the young woman all right?”

“She’s fine. This is really . . .” Cabel sighs and his voice catches. “Ah . . . really an emotional time for us, you know.” Janie knows he’s stalling for her sake.

“Of course,” says the doctor. “Well.”

Janie’s sight is beginning to return and she sees that Dr. Ming is glancing over the chart. He continues. “It could be any day or he might hang on for a few. It’s hard to say.”

Janie clears her throat and leans carefully to the side of the chair so she can see past Cabel’s bum. “Is he . . . brain-dead?”

“Hm? No, there appears to be some minor brain activity still.”

“What’s wrong with him, exactly?”

“We don’t actually know. Could be a tumor, maybe a series of strokes. And without surgery, we might not ever know. But he made it clear in his DNR that he didn’t want life-saving measures and his next of kin—your mother, I believe?—she refused to sign off on surgery or any procedures.” He says this in a pitying voice that makes Janie hate him.

“Well,” she says, “does he even have insurance?”

The doctor checks the paperwork again. “Apparently not.”

“What are the chances that surgery will help? I mean, could he be normal again?”

Dr. Ming glances at Henry, as if he can determine his chances by looking at him. “I don’t know.

He might never be able to live on his own. That is, if he even survived the surgery.” He looks at the chart again.

Janie nods slowly. That’s why. That’s why he’s just lying here. That, and the DNR. That’s why they aren’t fixing him—he’s too broken. She tries to sound simply curious but it comes out nervous. “So, uh, how much does it cost for him to just be here, waiting to die . . . and stuff?”

The doctor shakes his head. “I don’t know—that’s really a question for the accounting office.” He glances at his watch. Puts the chart back. “Okay, then.” He walks briskly out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

When Dr. Ming is gone, Janie glares at Cabel. “Don’t ever let that happen again! Couldn’t you tell I was trapped in the nightmare? I couldn’t get out, Cabe. I thought I was going to die.”

Cabel’s mouth opens, surprised and hurt. “I could tell you were struggling, but if I did break it, how was I supposed to know you wouldn’t be mad at me for that? And what did you want me to do, drag you out in the hallway? We’re in a freaking hospital, Hannagan. If anybody saw you like that you’d be strapped to a gurney in thirty seconds and we’d be stuck here all day, not to mention the bill for that.”

“Better that than sucked into full frontal static-land. No wonder the guy’s crazy. I’m half-crazy just spending a few minutes listening to that. Besides,” Janie adds coolly, pointing to the private bathroom, “hello.”

Cabel rolls his eyes. “I didn’t think of it, okay? You know, it’s not like I spend every waking moment planning my life around your stupid problems. There’s more—”

He slams his lips together.

Janie’s jaw drops.

“Oh, crap.” He steps toward her, sorry-eyed. And she steps back.

Shakes her head and looks away, fingers to her mouth, eyes filling.

“Don’t, Janie. I didn’t mean it.”

Janie closes her eyes and swallows hard. “No,” she says slowly. Doesn’t want to say it, but knows it’s true. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She gives a morose laugh. “It’s good for you to say it like it is, you know? Healthy. And shit.”