Angel Song (2 page)

With Sarah only inches away, Ann longed to hold her hand, to stroke her face, anything that might offer comfort and remind her that she was not alone. But with a long gash bleeding slowly across Sarah’s left cheek, and her left shoulder standing up at an awkward angle, Ann was afraid to touch her. She didn’t want to cause more pain, so she reached for a lock of Sarah’s long blonde hair that was splayed across her pillow. Ann rubbed it between her fingers, desperately wishing she could transfer some of her strength through it. “Hang in there, Sarah. You’ve got to fight. Stay awake.”

Sarah opened her eyes and looked toward Ann, blue eyes squinted in pain. “So sorry about this. Don’t know . . . what happened.”

Ann spoke as soothingly as she could. “Just a little accident, don’t worry about a thing. Everything’s going to be all right.”

As the vehicle swayed, Sarah turned her face toward the coiled tubes, blinking monitors, and cabinets full of things that people don’t like to think about. Her eyes remained open, something for which Ann was grateful, even as her breathing became labored. Ann focused on the sound of each breath, each gasp, each wheeze. As long as she heard these things, her sister was still alive and breathing. If nothing else, she would keep Sarah’s lungs moving by sheer willpower.

“Ooooh.”

Ann leaned forward. She reached toward her sister but somehow stopped her hands less than an inch before she touched her. What was she doing? She had no medical training. In fact, she’d barely passed health in high school. But she had to do something.

She grabbed the shoulder of the female medic, wondering why this woman was ignoring the obvious. “Help her! She’s choking.”

The medic shrugged off Ann’s hand and continued uncoiling some sort of tubing, her face barely registering a reaction to either Sarah’s gasping or Ann’s outburst. “She’s not choking. She’s humming.”

“What?” Ann looked down at her sister.

Sarah’s face was not locked in the expected contortion of pain. Her mouth was open; her eyes were wide and focused past her right shoulder, above the tools and gadgets. “
Glorious
.” She drew another ragged breath, but her lips curved into a smile. She lifted her right hand until the restraints of the gurney stopped her, then stretched her fingers up as if reaching for something. “Colors so brilliant, oh my . . .” The string of words was little more than a strangled whisper. “Song . . . Pure joy.” A choking sound gurgled up from her throat and she gasped for breath, but still she managed to hum through it.

The male EMT was wrapping tape around the IV line, but he looked up. “The morphine must be kicking in.”

“You gave her morphine?” The woman’s persona of cool control slipped with the crackle of anger in her voice.

“I . . . uh, no. I thought you must have.”

“You don’t give narcotics to a multisystem trauma without explicit instructions. Especially with a falling BP, shallow respirations, and a short ride to the hospital. Got it?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just, when she started singing and talking to people who aren’t here, I guess . . . I just sort of assumed she had narcotics on board.” He looked at Sarah, whose eyes closed while she continued to hum, then went back to his work with the tape.

Desperate for a way to help, Ann began to listen to the song. Maybe it would comfort Sarah if she hummed along. Perhaps the sound of a familiar voice could give her the strength to fight, help keep her here. Except Ann didn’t recognize the tune. She focused all her concentration on listening, hoping to pick out something familiar. But there was nothing. Still, even with Sarah’s strangled voice, the melody was beautiful.

“I’ve seen things like this before,” the female medic said. “Awed whispers, peaceful expressions when there shouldn’t be one, and almost always a song. Once I even thought I heard the tune. Makes you wonder what’s out there.”

With a final lurch, the ambulance screeched to a stop. The back doors clattered open, and a barrage of light, sound, and white coats stood waiting. Ann leaned forward and kissed the lock of hair. “Sarah, you stay strong. Don’t you dare leave me. Not now.”

Sarah didn’t acknowledge her at all, just continued to look above her right side. “Help. Annie. Please.”

Ann leaned forward, prepared to do whatever her sister asked. “How can I help you, Sarah? What do you need me to do?”

The gurney was lifted and a sea of personnel parted, taking Sarah with them. “No. Wait!” Ann jumped out. “Sarah, what do you need? Tell me what I can do!”

A behemoth nurse in pink scrubs jumped between Ann and the emergency room doors. “I’m sorry. You’re not allowed to go in there.”

Ann sidestepped the bouncer-nurse. “Just try and keep me out. She asked me for help, and I’m going to help her.” Even at a skinny five feet five, she was sure her determination would more than make up for the size difference.

The nurse grabbed her arm, clamping so tight that it almost jerked Ann backward. “They’re taking her straight into surgery. We’re going to do everything we can for her, but we need you to stay out of the way.”

Ann tried to yank her arm away, but the woman held fast. “Let me go.”

“Your sister wasn’t the only one in that car. We’ve got to get you in a back room and take a look at you too.” Her calm voice carried that oh-so-concerned tone that didn’t at all match the I’ll-take-you-in-a-smackdown look on her face. But Ann would take Bouncer Nurse on in a heartbeat if it meant helping Sarah.

Then she saw a couple of uniformed officers heading their general direction and decided to try a calmer approach. The last thing she wanted was to get kicked out of here. “I’m fine. All you can do for me is take care of my sister.”

“Let’s let the doctors be the judge of that, honey!”

It occurred to Ann that if she was inside the ER, rather than in the waiting room, she might overhear things that were happening, find out about Sarah a lot sooner. In truth, her left arm did ache a little, and her hand and left cheek stung. It was worth the chance. “Okay, where do I need to go?”

“Just come with me.” The syrup that now dripped from the nurse’s voice could clog arteries, but she didn’t loosen her grip in the slightest. She simply began to move slowly toward the doors labeled Emergency Room Entrance.

Ann was soon ensconced in a cubicle of curtains furnished only with a bed and two small chairs. Bouncer Nurse dropped a folded piece of pale blue fabric on the bed. “Put that on, and one of the doctors will be with you soon.”

“Get him in here fast. I need some answers.”

“Don’t we all?” The nurse didn’t bother to look back as she pulled the curtains shut behind her.

Ann put her arms through the oversized holes and was attempting to tie the back side together when she heard a male voice just outside the curtains. “Ms. Fletcher?”

Ann pulled the back edges of her gown together as best she could and sat on the bed. “Yeah, I’m ready.” She looked down at the cuts on her left arm. They didn’t look that deep—at least not to her. “I’m really fine. I do not want stitches in my arm, it will be . . .” Ann looked up at the doctor—except it wasn’t the doctor at all. It was one of the uniformed policemen she’d seen out front.

“I’m sorry to do this now, but I really need to ask you a few questions.”

Ann nodded once. “Okay.”

He sat in one of the chairs, pen and paper in hand. “Can you tell me what happened tonight?”

“I . . . we . . . had just gone out for dinner. Sarah, my sister, is getting her master’s degree on Friday. Social work. She wants to help inner-city kids.” Ann didn’t know why she was giving him all these details. She knew it was not the kind of information he was looking for, but somehow it was important to her that he understood who Sarah really was, to see that she was not just another statistic.

“Sounds like she’s an amazing person.” His voice was gentle.

“Yes, she is.” Which is why everyone loved Sarah so much.

The officer cleared his throat. “What do you remember about the accident?”

“We were on our way home from dinner downtown. We’d stopped at the light on Calhoun, where it meets Rutledge. I was teasing her about some guy who’d been flirting with her. The light turned green, I looked over to say something, and all of a sudden there were these headlights right over her shoulder, coming fast. The light was so bright.” Ann rubbed her eyes, trying to erase the image. “I don’t know if Sarah ever saw it coming.”

The officer wrote something on his pad, nodding slightly as if he understood. Then he looked up and in a matter-of-fact voice asked, “Had your sister been drinking at dinner?”

“What?” Ann jumped off the bed and pointed toward the curtain. “Get out of here.”

“Look, I’m sorry to have to ask this. In fact, I’m sorry that events occurred that make this conversation necessary. I know this is very difficult for you, but the more answers I get, the better we can piece this puzzle together.”

“That other car ran the red light and hit us. Why should you care whether or not Sarah had a drink? Why should it matter if she was shnockered, as far as that goes?”

He didn’t look offended by this outburst. “Just trying to get the whole story.”

“No.” Ann slowly lowered her hand and sank back onto the bed. “No, she didn’t have anything to drink other than tea.”

He nodded and wrote something on his notepad. “Are there any other details you can give me?”

“We were stopped at the light, first car in line, so I know it was green when we went through. The other car just came out of nowhere. It was moving so fast, right over Sarah’s shoulder. It just kept coming, so fast, so fast . . .” Ann rubbed her eyes again. “There’s not much else I can tell you.”

“Do you have a number where I can reach you in case there are more questions in the next few days?”

After Ann wrote down her cell number, the officer stood. “Thank you for your help.”

Ann looked up. “The other driver, did you ask him if he’d been drinking? That’s what happened, isn’t it? He was so drunk or high he never saw the light, never saw our car.” The memory of fast-approaching headlights burned Ann’s eyes. “Tell me you’ll never give him the chance to do this to someone else. Tell me you’re going to lock him up and keep him there.”

“I’m afraid not.” He put the pen in his pocket, then tugged one side of the curtains open. He waited the space of a heartbeat before he turned. “He died on impact.”

“Oh.” Ann shook her head and started to cry again. “Somehow that never even occurred to me.”

“I’ll call you if I have any further questions.” He disappeared through the curtains, pulling them closed behind him.

Chapter 2

“Other than a few cuts and bruises, you appear to be just fine. I’m sure you’ll be sore for the next few days, but let us know if you develop difficulty breathing, severe abdominal pain, or blurry vision.” The bone-thin brunette in the white coat had the bleary look of someone who hadn’t slept in a few days. The exhaustion sounded with each word—or maybe it was just boredom.

“Yeah. Sure. Now, what’s going on with my sister?” Ann’s plans to eavesdrop had failed miserably. Other than the occasional moan from the person in the cubicle next door, and the sound of retching from farther down the hall, she’d heard absolutely nothing. She needed to know how the surgery was going. She needed to know if Sarah’s blood pressure was still falling and if her respiration was still shallow. She needed to know that Sarah was going to make it. “Is she all right?”

“After you get dressed, there is a waiting room just down the hall and through the door. Have a seat, and you’ll be notified as soon as we know something.” The doctor pushed through the curtain dividers and was gone.

Ann reached for her white buttonup shirt, but what she saw made her stop short. The left side was mottled with the claret splatter of her sister’s blood.

How had this happened? This was supposed to be a weekend of rejoicing, of celebration. Not this. No, nothing like this.

Why hadn’t the other driver stopped? Why had he done this to himself, and to them?

It took all of her determination, but after a few seconds of deep breathing, Ann managed to pick up the shirt, put it on, and slog to the waiting room. A woman with bright red hair and too much makeup sat behind the counter window. “Miz Fletcher, if you don’t mind, we’ve got a little bit of paperwork we need you to fill out.”

If I don’t mind
? “What is it?”

“Oh, just the usual forms. You poor darling, I know you don’t feel like dealing with all this right now, but I don’t suppose you’d have your sister’s insurance information, would you?”

Ann glared. “
No
, I don’t have it. We were in a
car wreck
; her purse was in the
car
. I don’t have mine either. It was in the same
car
, the one that was wrecked.” Ann felt her hand tremble as she rubbed the back of her neck. She was going to lose it if she had to answer one more stupid question.

Another woman, sitting far enough to the left of the window that Ann hadn’t seen her before, rolled her chair into view.

“Wait, somebody brought your things in.” She pulled out a key from the desk and went to a cabinet against the back wall. A moment later she handed Ann two purses. One was sleek black leather, the other a neon pink tote covered in white polka dots.

“How did these get here?”

She shrugged. “Someone from the accident site brought them in.”

Ann dug through the tote until she found Sarah’s wallet. It was jammed with membership discount cards to the Piggly Wiggly, bookstores, and video rental places. Finally, she found what appeared to be an insurance card, handed it to the woman, and answered the necessary questions to the extent that she could.

“Okay, sweetie, I’ll let you know as soon as there’s something to know. You can have a seat in here if you want. Or, if you prefer, there’s a chapel on the fourth floor.”

“I’ll wait here, thanks.” Ann didn’t plan to go anywhere until she knew that Sarah was out of surgery.

The room was lined with brown vinyl-covered seats. The right half of the space was filled by a couple dozen people who seemed to be together. Ann took a seat on the far left and studied them, wondering what kind of tragedy had brought them here.