In Full Bloom: Sequel to 'The Crying Rose': The Trilogy of the Rose (Volume 2) (11 page)

Mark understood completely. “I just hope we arrive before all hell breaks loose.” They rode in silence for a few minutes; both were caught up in the events that had happened.

“Grandma Jo?” Mark asked, needing to know the answer before they got to the hospital.

“Yes,” she answered in a lost voice.

“What happened to awaken 'Mrs. Carter'?”

Grandma Jo looked at him, then dropped her eyes downward. “It’s my fault,” she confessed.

“What did you do?” Mark encouraged her to continue.

“It’s what I didn’t do is more like it,” she mumbled making it difficult for Mark to hear.

“What do you mean by that comment?”

“I didn’t follow your instructions to the letter,” she replied with much guilt.

“Which instruction?”

“To hide all the clocks and calendars. We finished organizing the kitchen and had moved on into the family room. I just didn’t think, Mark, or I would have never allowed her near my desk. At the time, it never crossed my mind that she didn’t know the date or year. To tell you the truth, I thought that it was a bunch of hooey. I saw her write out a check for groceries. I didn’t know that she left the date blank until David told me that he had to fill it in before he gave it to his manager. Anyway, she found the little calendar from my insurance agent on the desk and went ballistic on us. Ranting that it was impossible, she thought that we were demons sent to drive her crazy. It was rather scary.”

Mark reached out and patted her hand on her leg. “I’m sorry for putting you through this trauma. It is not your fault, it’s mine.”

“It’s not your fault, either,” she responded.

“You know, Grandma Jo, you can back out of the situation at any time,” Mark stressed.

“Are you kidding?” She piped back. “I’m in too deep to crawl out on my belly now. I just need to arm myself better for the next attack.”

Approaching St. Thomas, Mark asked her one last question. “Which of her personalities were in control the last time you saw her?”

“Sami.”

EIGHT

T
here was no reason to ask where Sami was when they entered the emergency room; they both heard her the second they walked in the door. Spotting David just inside the door, Grandma Jo hurried over to him. They embraced drawing strength from the other.

Mark nodded a greeting to David and turned to the desk nurse. He identified himself and without further ado was shown into the ‘pits’ of the emergency room. He had to refrain from laughing out loud at the scene before him. He found Sami standing on a chair in the middle of the room with surgical scissors in the hand of her good arm, raised above her head swearing and threatening everyone in sight. He also spotted two uniformed security guards nearby with their hands on the top of their Billy clubs. They were trying desperately to reach her.

Mark spoke four words above the volume level of the room that caused the room to be silent. “Mrs. Carter, let’s go!”

She turned in the direction of his voice. With hair covering her face, he was unable to see her eyes. He saw her head swing back and forth as if she was scanning the room at the people there. Stopping the head movements, she thrust the scissors out a couple of times at people in her way as she got down from the chair and headed in his direction.

Mark peered down at her and tried to brush the hair away from her face. He believed that the pain in her arm was masked by the power of 'Mrs. Carter'. Yet, this power was not strong enough to stop the sweat pouring down her temples, causing her hair to cling to her face or the twitching of her damaged arm. Sami turned, and pressed her back against him and started jabbing out with the scissors again.

Mark gingerly placed his hand on her good arm and brought it back somewhat under his control. He mouthed to the attending physician, who knew him, for a strong sedative. The doctor caught his message and disappeared from sight. Within seconds, he was beside Mark with the requested sedative. Mark indicated for him to place it in his pocket and felt the capped syringe drop inside. “I’ll be back,” Mark whispered to him, as he backed out the emergency room through the ambulance entrance with Sami in tow.

Now outside the hospital, he slipped his hand down her arm and removed the scissors. To his relief, she didn’t fight him. With Sami still in his arms, he guided her to a nearby bench and stepped aside allowing her to sit. She sat down gingerly and grabbed her broken arm. With the adrenaline level decreasing, the pain level rose. Mark had the chance now to view her. He noticed that the left arm was the broken one.
Good, she will still be able to paint
, he thought selfishly, already knowing that she was right-handed from watching her write the check earlier.

“Sami?” Mark asked tentatively.

“Yes,” she said with pain in her voice.

Glad to be dealing with 'Sami' instead of 'Mrs. Carter', he asked. “Will you allow me to help you?”

She didn’t respond to his question.

He tried again. “Sami, may I give you something for the pain?”

Watching her now begin to shake all over, he sat next to her on her right side staying away from her injured arm. He wanted to hold her, but knew that, in her current state, it was impossible.

Slowly, she turned her head in his direction. Still unable to see her face, he reached out and drew back her hair, so that it was not blocking his view. This gave him his first look at her injuries on her face; it was a wreck. Not only were her eyes producing barrels of tears, but the left one was also showing evidence of the beginning of an emerging black eye. Her left cheek was red and scraped where it had met with the concrete. The ‘road rash’ was still embedded with dirt and small blades of grass. He watched the paths of her tears turn the dirt into streaks of mud.

Reaching out, he cradled her chin in his left hand using the thumb of that hand to caress her right cheek. Viewing her closely, he saw and felt her head nod slightly in agreement to his question about helping her. Not taking his eyes off her, he reached into his pocket with his right hand and felt for the syringe. He not only found it, but also felt small packets of what he knew to be alcohol swabs.
Thank you, Rick
, he said silently to the physician that had slipped them into his pocket.

Removing the items from his pocket, he positioned them on his lap. He had to bring his left hand down from her face to prepare the injection. Now with both hands free, he wasted no time opening the swabs’ packet. Thankful she had on a T-shirt instead of the sweat top she was in earlier this morning, he gently prepared her arm for the injection. She didn’t flinch during the injection, handling it like a real trooper. Recapping the syringe, he dropped the used items back into his pocket to dispose of later.

Knowing it would take a few minutes for the sedative to work, he visually examined the rest of her. Her left forearm, which she held tightly to her body, was wrapped in a towel that he recognized as one of Grandma Jo’s. Mark attributed the dampness of the towel and the bulk to the ice pack which was positioned there by David. Mark noticed that the right forearm, which was cradled around her left, was badly scraped and still oozing blood. The front of her T-shirt was dirty. He saw that she would need new sweat pants to replace this pair, for both knee areas were ripped. Mark gathered, from her condition, that she had not been walking when she fell. Her injuries were caused either by a car that had tossed her a great distance, or she was running like the hounds of hell were at her heels.

Seeing Sami’s shaking turn into swaying, Mark sat back on the bench to be in a better position to catch her if she fell. She saw his movement and leaned over in his direction, resting her right shoulder and cheek against his chest.

Surprised and pleased, Mark placed his hand on her back to offer her support. They sat in that position until Mark was satisfied that the sedative was in full charge of her, gauging the time by her pressure on his chest. Liking the feel of her body against his, he delayed their re-entrance into the emergency room longer than it was necessary. Reluctantly, he helped Sami back to her feet, knowing that her welfare and the limited effectiveness of the sedative took precedence over his feelings. Like a walking zombie, Sami allowed him to guide her back into the hospital, this time without a fight.

Within record time, the emergency room’s staff took the x-rays, set the fracture and cast the arm. She was released into Mark’s care with prescriptions for pain and antibiotics and her discharge instructions.

***

Grandma Jo and David were still in the waiting room when Mark appeared with the drugged Sami. With David’s help, Mark got her into his truck. Giving the prescriptions and the towel to Grandma Jo, he asked if she and David would stop on the way back to have the ‘scripts’ filled, and to buy bandages to attend to her other wounds. Nodding, Grandma Jo handed him the house keys.

Walking with David to his car, she called back. “I’ll also see if I can find her something else to wear. See you soon.”

Mark hopped into the truck and headed to Grandma Jo’s house with the barely conscience woman in the passenger seat next to him. At the house, getting Sami out of the truck was a chore, but after several attempts, he had her on her feet. She was rather unsteady in her balance, but on her feet nevertheless. Guiding her to the front door, he propped her up against the wall as he unlocked the door. Once inside, Mark debated where to place her. She was still filthy, and oozing fluids from the unattended areas, so the bed was not the answer. He spotted the recliner near the door. A good plan for the moment he thought, but it needed to be covered to protect the fabric. He cursed himself for not having either Grandma Jo or David come with him. His macho self-image had told him that he could do it all by himself.

“That was real stupid,” he voiced out loud. He only saw two options – he could take her with him in his search for a protective cover, or he could prop her up against the wall. Both plans had their advantages and disadvantages. He finally decided on a third option as he walked over to the recliner. “I’ll buy Grandma Jo a new chair,” he said, as he lowered Sami slowly into the recliner.

Kneeling in front of her, he untied her shoelaces and removed the shoes. After removing her socks, he rolled up her pant legs to better view her injured knees. Both were red and scraped with a hint of bruising, but otherwise, they were not in need of immediate care. He lowered the pant legs back over the knees. Glancing up, he saw a drop of bright red blood drip on her lap from the injury on her right arm. Getting to his feet, he hurried to the bathroom in search of soap and water to clean the wound. Knowing that a bath would be better, he would just have to wait until Grandma Jo returned to accomplish that feat. Right now, he needed to stop the flow of blood from her arm.

Grabbing a wash cloth and soap, he turned on the faucet and lathered up the cloth. He spotted a large barrette on the counter and picked it up with his soapy hands. Turning the water off and grabbing a nearby towel, he headed back to Sami.

Realizing he needed to secure her hair away from her face first, he dropped the towel and wash cloth next to the chair. Opening the barrette, he moved behind her and proceeded to pull her hair back off her face. After he had captured all loose ends, he closed the barrette. He returned to the front of the chair and kneeled, looking into her drooping face. Her eyes were closed. Mark knew that the combination of the pain killer and sedation injection was keeping her pretty doped up.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck begin to rise. He had the sensation that he was being watched. He searched for the source, and spotted the two spaniels eyeing him from the entrance of the kitchen. Neither dog moved; they just watched him anxiously. The dogs are concerned, he thought, signaling them to come over. They approached him slowly with their heads down and their eyes wide open. Molly went directly to Sami’s side and laid her head on the arm of the chair, whimpering softly. Mark reached out and placed his hand on her head trying to reassure her that Sami would be fine. Molly ceased her whimpering and eyed him nervously, but after a moment, she laid down next to the chair. Ollie followed her lead and spread out next to her. Mark chuckled at Molly’s influence on his dog.