Her Eyes (15 page)

Looking at them troubled her. She didn't want to believe that she would join their ranks. Their shadow forms hardly resembled human beings anymore. They'd become nothing but decayed wills. She turned away from them, unwilling to watch their deranged march through the hall.

Again, she reached to Frank, but instead of gripping him, let her hand slide near his skin. This time he reacted and touched his cheek. If only he knew she was here, that she loved him, would've done anything to be with him.

Oh, no. Catherine had made it back. As soon as she recovered, she would do something terrible to him. Pam came closer, wishing there were a way to communicate with him, longing to pass the message.

"Frank, don't trust her. She'll try to do worse than kill you."

No one in the room looked at her. Her warning shrieks caught no one's attention, not even a glance from the shadowed forms now joining their drifting ranks in the hallways. Another worse thought filled her. She reached around her, tried to find that webbing, the doorway back to where she'd been. There was nothing, only a hospital room. This couldn't be.

She looked around again, watching a shadowed form of a woman slip to the floor, crying. Pam realized that not only had she lost a body, but she'd been locked away from the peace allowed for the dead. That world shut its door to her because she'd rejected it. Now she was trapped in a nightmare of tortured souls, inches from those that still lived.

It was worth it for Frank. Hell itself would be worth it, but being witness to life, unable to live it, unable to escape it, would be agony. Worse, she would have to watch whatever Catherine did to her lover. Despair crept into her soul, and she too almost fell to the floor crying.

A nurse entered, walking through her and to a doctor near Catherine's bed. The action stung, like a shock from static electricity. For a moment, all she could do was watch the nurse lean closely to the doctor.

"We need you next door."

Instinct, more than logic, guided her out the door, away from her love, and into the neighboring room. There, on the bed, lay a body of a woman, no more than eighteen. Machines ran noisily on each side of the bed. Tubes ran in the woman's pale white throat. Locks of long red hair lay across the pillow.

"She has no family. The state gave us the paperwork to pull the plug.” The nurse sounded grim.

"They say anything about organ donation? She's only eighteen, some of the organs should be viable."

"No. There was no donor card or any statement so we can't."

"That's a shame, could have saved a few lives with those organs.” The doctor looked at the chart then checked the monitors again. “Bring me in another doctor. We have to make this official."

"It's so sad to see one die so young."

This was Pam's chance. She ran forward and dove into the body on the bed. She had no idea what the girl's story was, but then she hadn't when she entered Catherine's either. All she knew was she wasn't ready to die.

Time was different on the other side, information passed at a different rate. It was with a knowing unlike any other that she understood the ability to move into another's body, live out their life. The other soul would be given a chance to try again.

Desperation, desperation to be with Frank propelled her toward another unknown. She had to do this. Pam had to live. So she entered the dying lump of skin and bones.

At first, the flesh was tight, constricting. Pain burned from Pam's outer reaches, slicing into her from the foreign body. Pam moved with it, trying to ease herself into its plane. She rolled and felt more stabs emanating from her outside, the new flesh, then sinking into her core. She cried out, stretched, tried to take it all in and become part of it.

The throbbing was horrible, but she had to do it, had to for Frank. He needed her, and she needed a way to reach him. A flesh hand to touch him, to protect him from that monster named Catherine.

With determination that she would remember who she was, who Catherine was, and that she could find Frank, she rolled, setting herself in line with the body. As she did, she glimpsed a form above the bed. It was a woman, the body's owner above her smiling. Tears filled the woman's face. Her energy ebbed and flowed in tired and erratic lines.

"I don't want to be here anymore.” The woman was young but had hurt too much too soon in this life to take anymore.

"Then leave in peace,” replied Pam.

"Thank you."

As if her words set the woman free, she flowed into the texture between the worlds, headed for a happier place. The threads opened, took her in, then folded closed. The action caused a ripple, a wave perhaps only Pam could feel. It hit her, grew in intensity, knocking her backward.

"Frank,” she screamed suddenly afraid she'd missed a new host. “Frank, I'm here. Frank! Please, Frank."

"What was that?"

Frank had been held in grief, taking awkward steps away from the woman on the bed when he heard a cry from another room. The sound was nothing more than a shriek, but it held his name, mixed with a pain deeper than anything he'd ever heard before.

He stumbled to the hallway and saw two nurses standing in front of the door. Down the hall, an orderly pushed a bed onto an elevator, but no one looked for him. From there he listened, wondering, hoping he'd hear his name again. That Pam had jumped into one body. It was possible that she could jump into another. It had to be.

No, that was wishful thinking.

At Parson's lecture, he hadn't said anything about moving into two bodies. Had Pam come to the end of her time here? Did she have to move on? Or could she still be with him? Still he stood there, listening.

"I can't believe she's alive.” The nurse sounded excited, beaming with joy.

"It's a miracle.” The older nurse crossed herself then looked in his direction. “Two miracles in one day."

He smiled, knowing the nurse spoke of Catherine. He didn't consider that a miracle, more like evil iron will or even a curse. If Pam made it back, that would be truly amazing, unlike the return of his wife.

His wife. Oh shit, he had his wife back.

He didn't want to face that possibility lying in the next room. The idea of taking her home made his skin crawl. As he stood in the hallway, he knew that was what he'd have to do. She was technically his wife and short of divorce or murder he had to deal with her. Sure, he could admit she tried to kill him not once, but twice, but to what end? She would still be alive and Pam would still be gone. He looked to the wall, contemplating knocking some sense into himself at losing Pam not once, but twice.
How could I have helped her stay? There has to be some way I can bring her back.
He could call Parsons and see what he had to say, maybe he knew how to find another body for Pam, one that she could stay in this time.

Or was it because of his own weakness that Pam couldn't stay? What could he have done to give her the strength to win the battle for that body?

As he waited, he noticed there was no one calling his name. It had to have been his imagination, some part of him wanting his Pam back. He wouldn't get another chance with her. Somehow that knowledge made his life more empty than it had been before he'd found Pam. He'd been a man that had it all—now without, the loss crippled him.

"Who was that she called for?” the younger nurse asked.

"She'd said, ‘Frank.’ Don't know who that could be. I thought she didn't have anyone. The police didn't have any missing persons that fit her description. Her picture has been in all the newspapers but no one has come forward."

"What?” Frank ran forward. “I'm sorry, did you say someone in the next room called for Frank?"

"Yes.” The younger nurse smiled at him, then glanced in the next room. “We thought she wouldn't recover but when we went to unplug the machines, she woke up screaming ‘Frank.’ Amazing, isn't it?"

Frank pushed by them. Inside that room was his love, his Pam. He knew it in his soul. Behind him, he heard the nurses, but paid them little attention as he shoved open the large door and stepped inside the room. The light shone in the window, machines surrounded the head of the bed, but the bed itself was empty.

"She's not in there, now.” The older nurse put a hand on his shoulder. “When she regained consciousness they took her immediately downstairs. You just missed her."

"When? Where?"

"For testing. They have to see if there's any brain damage. I doubt they'll even return her to this room."

Frank felt dizzy and reached to the wall for support. She'd made it back. He knew it. He'd been so close. If only he'd gone into the hall the moment he'd heard his name instead of remaining in that room with Catherine, he would have found Pam.

"Please. What was her name?"

The nurses looked at each other. The younger one shook her head, then stepped into the hallway. The older nurse led Frank to a chair against the wall and sat him down. He resisted but only mildly. So much had happened the strength drained from his body.

"She was listed as a Jane Doe. We won't know her name until she tells us. Even then, we can't divulge any private information."

"What happened to her?"

"All we know for certain is that she was pulled from the river with a bad head injury three months ago. I was working on this floor the night they brought her up. She'd been wearing sneakers, shorts, and a T-shirt like she'd been jogging. Everyone guessed she'd been mugged in the park and was either pushed or fell in the river."

"Do you know where they'll take her?"

"No. Sir, you have enough to worry about with your own wife. Go back into her room. I'm sure she wants to see you.” She patted him on the shoulder. “So much wonderful news. It's a miracle."

He rose, nodding slowly. “I'm sure she does need me. But, really, isn't there anything at all you can tell me about this woman? She called me. It has to be someone I know or who knew I was here. Maybe she was awake or out of the coma for a few minutes when we brought my wife in and saw me. Maybe you missed that quick moment she was awake."

"I'm sorry Mr. White, the machines would have shown us she woke."

He stopped, standing in the hallway, and looked back at the nurse. “Is there a way I could find out about Jane Doe's status later?” He realized how insane he sounded. That was no way to get information. “I mean, both miracles happening so close to each other. I just want to meet her."

"I'll check with the doctor. Patients are entitled to their privacy so I'm afraid ultimately the decision will be hers."

"Of course."

He entered Catherine's room, not because he wanted to, but for appearance's sake. He looked at the bed where a nurse checked Catherine, asking her questions, and writing down her answers.
Probably checking for brain damage on her too
. They didn't know she had something worse, a black heart.

Frank had to wonder about Pam now. Did she remember him? Would she begin picking up memories from the new body she inhabited? She might have a husband, children. Being a Jane Doe, he doubted it. Family would've reported her missing. It didn't change the fact that she may not remember him or their time together.

"Frank, come closer to the bed."

He shook his head while standing near the door. “I don't want to get in the way."

"I'm finished.” The nurse smiled politely then left the bed, giving them time alone.

He didn't know what to say. There was no telling how much this Catherine remembered either. Did she remember Pam? If so, he bet life would be interesting when Catherine returned home.

"How are you feeling?” Frank's mouth felt numb, his tongue too large, but he still tried to speak.

"Better now.” She smiled. “What? Aren't you happy to see me? How about a kiss?” Her blue eyes glowed, bright, alive, and without a trace of green.

"No.” His sighed heavily and thought about what he had to do. “I'm going to visit you every day. I am going to make sure you have everything you need, but also realize that we're getting a divorce."

"What?” Her eyes grew wild. “I'm in the hospital and you tell me this.” She grabbed at the remote, trying to fling it, but found it attached to the table.

"You know what you've done. Don't make me bring this out in court. It won't be pretty. All the affairs, the murder attempts, this is over. It's been over for a long time."

"I'll see you in hell first!” She tore the IV from her hand and leaned forward. “This isn't over you, bastard. I'll kill you before you leave me."

"That's the problem."

Frank turned and stepped to the door, finding a very shocked nurse standing there with her pitcher of water. There was nothing he could say, so he stepped around her and into the hallway. Once more, he stepped into the neighboring room. No nurses loitered outside this time.

Had Pam been here?

He didn't know for certain. He stepped to the bed, still unmade, and sat, splaying his hand on the sheet where she had lain. There was no way of knowing for certain, but he believed his Pam had returned. Now he had to find her.

Down the hall, he heard female chatter. Some staff no doubt. He left the room and walked down the hall to the elevator. He had a lot to do to prepare for. If she had returned, he would find her.

She tried to focus on the doctor, but the stainless steel objects in the room kept giving her glimpses into what she looked like and she wanted to see. It seemed strange, but she couldn't remember her face. For some reason she really wanted to know what color eyes she had. Logically it made no difference, but something inside, some strange panic she couldn't explain, made her lean toward the cabinet next to her for a glimpse. Then she saw it, a strange gray-green.

"You're doing fine, you're doing really well, miss. I'd like you to keep your head straight and just follow my finger with your eyes."

She did as he asked, catching a hint of red hair as she followed his finger to the next reflective surface. Red was a surprise. For a moment, she could've sworn she was a blonde. Red looked good though, it seemed to suit her.