FAME and GLORY (27 page)

Just as the nurse finished explaining, the three musicians entered the examining area to briefly see their friend before she was rolled away to have the tests run.  They quickly surrounded the head of her makeshift bed.

“How ya' doin', Sweetie?” Diane said.

“My face hurts like hell!” Brandee said

“I'll bet it does,” Suzi said.  “You look good, though.”

“The guy in the ambulance said that he's seen a lot worse than this.  He doesn't think I'll have any scars after the burns get better.  He may have just been making me feel better, though.  I told him that I remember thinking that my face was on fire.  He said that's because it was.  The peach fuzz that we all have on our skin was burning.”

Diane lightly touched Brandee's cheek near her jawline, taking special care not to be anywhere near the burned area, which started just below Brandee's left cheekbone and moved down and toward her left earlobe.  The affected area was about four inches in length, stopping two or three inches before reaching her ear.

“You're going to be just fine," she said encouragingly.  “As soon as the doctor says you can, you're going to be rocking all over again.”

A young orderly came into the examining area just then, pushing a wheelchair.  He stepped to the side of the bed. “Time to go, young lady.  It's time for your midterms.”

The nurse that had accompanied the intern was a sturdy African-American wearing a name badge that read “Belinda Mayfield”.  She helped Brandee to sit up, and rearranged the hospital gown so that Brandee's modesty could be preserved.  She supported Brandee under her arm and maintained the support until the singer was safely in the wheelchair.  Then, the nurse spoke to the others.

“She'll be finished in a half hour to an hour, depending on how she does.  You're welcome to wait in the waiting room in emergency or you can go to the more comfortable area in the main hospital on the second floor.  There are a number of couches and reclining chairs up there.  Either way, the triage desk out front will give you a beeper so that you can come back when Ms. Evans gets back here.  It's your choice.”

She started to leave with Brandee, but paused as she looked at the visitors.

“Are you all right, sir?” she said to Bruce.

Bruce hadn't said a word since they had entered the examining area of the emergency room.  He wasn't sure that he was all right. The green pallor on his skin was just a small outward indication of the turmoil he was feeling inside.

Bruce was deathly afraid of hospitals and the needles that lurked inside them.  The adrenaline that he had felt from the time that Brandee had gotten hurt had carried him to the hospital and inside, but once things settled down, Bruce realized where he was.  The smells of the room, the beeping and booping of the various machines, all of it combined to make him a little woozy.  Suzi stepped over and took him by the arm.

“Come on, big fella.  Let's step outside for a minute.  Remember, though, you've got about six and a half months to be okay.  I'm not having your baby without you.”

Bruce nodded and, without a word, allowed himself to be meekly led toward the emergency room exit.

The nurse released the brake on Brandee's wheelchair and started out the door.  On her way out, she smiled at Diane.

“Men,” she said.  “Nothing but big ole' babies.”

When Bruce had taken a few lungs full of sweet outside air, he felt better.  He told Suzi that they could go in if she wanted, but that he would rather that they stayed outside for most of the time that Brandee was going to be tested if it was okay.  She assured him that it was fine and passed her decision to Diane when the drummer joined them, carrying the round notifier that would light up and vibrate when Brandee was safely back in the examining area.

“What a night!” Bruce said.

“It sure was," Suzi said.  “One minute we were playing “The Darkest Time of Night” and the next minute an ambulance is coming for Brandee.”

“Poor kid," Diane said.  “But we need to talk about some stuff.  What do we do about the shows coming up?”

“We probably should wait until we find out how her tests come out before we decide for sure,” Bruce said.  “We aren't due again until two nights from now in Crescent City.”

Suzi and Diane nodded, sharing in Bruce's unspoken relief that the next day was a fortunate pre-scheduled day off.  Jake and Brandee had wanted a night in their own home in Fortuna before embarking on the last leg of the trip.  Thank God for that, anyway.

“Why don't we tentatively plan on canceling the county fair in Crescent City," Diane said, thinking out loud.  “Even if she's okay, and I think she will be, she could probably use two nights off after this.  Let me try and call Jake again and get him filled in.  We'll see what he thinks.”

Suzi interrupted Diane's move to get her phone out of her purse by placing her hand on the drummer’s arm.  She drew Bruce closer so that the three of them were in a tighter huddle, and lowered her voice.

“She hasn't asked for Jake.  Not once.”

Diane shook her head.  “I love that girl to death, but I'd like to paddle her butt too.  She doesn't appreciate what she has in Jake.  Maybe, just maybe, this will wake her up.  I hope so anyway.”

As Diane turned from the circle to try Jake's number again, Bruce, feeling more himself than he had since they were inside, looked around the breezeway of the emergency entrance.

“Where is Janelle, anyway?  Is she still inside?”

Suzi snorted.  “She probably is trying the doors of wherever Brandee is getting tested.  Did you notice how she assumed that she should be the one to ride in the ambulance?”

“I did," Bruce answered. “I don't know, though.  It didn't really bother me.  I think she was genuinely concerned.”

“I was concerned!  You were concerned!  Diane was concerned!  The people who were watching were concerned!  Nobody else climbed in the ambulance and plopped their fat butt in the back, though.”

A small smile played at the corners of Bruce's mouth.  “What is it with you guys and butts tonight?  First Diane wants to paddle Brandee's, and now you're measuring Janelle's?  I think I'm with a couple of bull dykes!”

Suzi hit him, and none too lightly.  “I'll show you what a bull dyke I am when we get done here!”

Bruce rubbed his arm where, he was sure, a painful bruise was destined to rise.  Sometimes, he thought, his ideas would best be served staying in his own mind.

Diane was quietly talking on her phone across the breezeway from where Suzi and Bruce were sparring.  The drummer snapped her phone closed and joined the other two.

“Jake is getting a ride here.  The guy who's driving him says that they are only about five minutes out.”

“Good," Suzi said.  “I'll be glad when we're all together again.  If we get good news from inside, we can decide together what we do next.  If we don't get good news...”  Suzi's voice trailed off and her eyes filled with tears.  She wondered what would happen if Brandee were seriously damaged by the trauma that she had suffered at Cache Creek.

Bruce put his big arms around Suzi and took her head to his chest.  Diane spoke with authority in her voice.  “Don't think like that, Suzi.  Brandee's young, strong, and determined.  Who knows that better than us?  She's going to be just as good as new by the time we get into Oregon.”

Bruce slowly rocked Suzi back and forth as they stood in the cool of the evening in the shadow of the Yolo County ambulance that had led them to St. Helena a couple of hours earlier.  All three of the musicians were lost in thought when a maroon and white Chrysler Sebring pulled up to the emergency room entrance.  Jake hastily thanked Rich for the ride and jumped out of the car, the three musicians immediately surrounding him.  It had only been 13 hours since they had left him beside the steaming Nissan in Sacramento, but it seemed so much longer than that.

“How is she?” Jake asked.  “Where is she?”

“She's doing really well," Diane said, patting Jake's arm.  “They are running some tests right now, but she's doing fine.”

“What kind of tests?” Jake asked.

“Tests on her brain to make sure that it's not scrambled from the electricity," Diane said.

“Brain tests?” Jake said.  “They think that she might have br--”

Bruce broke in.  “They think that she's just fine and so do we.  We talked to her and she was fine and making sense.  They're just doing the test as a precaution.  She'll be out pretty soon and you can see her.  Meanwhile, the nurse at the desk wants to ask you about insurance.”

Jake nodded and started toward the door.  He would take care of the paperwork before Brandee came back out.  It was hard to put the thought of his 23-year-old wife having brain damage out of his mind, but he still needed to take care of business.  When he got inside
,
he saw Janelle sitting in a chair, as close as she could get to the door that
led to
the examining area.  Jake noticed all over again how young she looked.  Young, lost
,
and worried to death.  He knew how she felt.

“How are you holding up, Janelle?” he asked before going to the desk.

“I'm okay.  I just want her to come back out.”

Jake thought that he and Janelle suddenly had more in common than that morning.

“They tell me that she'll be out soon.  Do you want something to eat or drink?”

Janelle didn't answer, at least not audibly. She just shook her head and stared at the door through which Brandee had been rolled.  She was sure that it must have been hours since Brandee had been taken from her.

Jake quickly dispensed with the particulars at the desk.  He glanced again at the forlorn figure sitting curled up in the chair
and went back outside to join his friends.

“What happened out there tonight?” he asked the three musicians.

“We don't exactly know.  Brandee
's
face
got caught
with some kind of little flame that came out of the mike  She was using the 57 tonight and it was like it caught fire," Bruce said, looking to the others for corroboration.  Suzi and Diane nodded their agreement.

“I thought she liked the 58 better.  Why wasn't she using that?” Jake asked.

“The 57 tested better at the casino, so she went with it,” Diane responded.  “I don't know if it was the mike itself or the Mogami wires that
were
connected to it.  One way or another, something shorted out.  Brandee went down on the front of the stage and that's how we ended up here.

“You said it was a flame.  Is she badly burned?”

“Not too bad," Suzi said.  “She's in some pain, though.  They couldn't give her anything before the tests.  That made her mad.”

Bruce interjected.  “That's why I think she's going to be all right.  She was really quiet on stage while the paramedics were working on her.  That's not like her.  By the time that she got here, though, she was telling the nurses that she by God didn't want a Popsicle, but that she wanted some pain meds.”

Suddenly, the beeper that the nurse had given Diane activated.  It vibrated in the drummer's hand while the red lights on its perimeter went off in sequence, looking like a light race around the dark brown disk.

“She's back!” Suzi cried out excitedly.

The four friends trooped back inside through the door
where
Jake had so recently emerged.  By the time they had gotten to the receptionist desk, Janelle was already in the examining room, having seen Brandee's wheelchair as it exited the elevator.

The receptionist waved the four friends through.  “Go ahead folks.  Ms. Evans should be right inside that door.”

When they got inside, they saw Brandee still seated in the wheelchair, awaiting assistance to get back into the bed.  Actually, they saw a little bit of Brandee and a lot of Janelle, hugging Brandee.  Nurse Mayfield was gently peeling Janelle off the patient.

“Step back for just a minute, child.  Give her some air.  Step back!” she said, a little more sternly.

Janelle reluctantly moved away from Brandee, allowing Nurse Mayfield to move Brandee efficiently from the chair to the examining bed. Only after smoothing her sheet did she invite the visitors to the patient's side.