The Night's Legacy (11 page)

She tried to slide off the table, but her head began to spin.  The nurse grabbed her arm.  “You shouldn’t be up and around just yet.  You’ve got a nasty bump on the head.  The doctor’s going to want to run some tests to see if you’ve got a concussion.  Is there anyone you want us to call,
Lois?”

“Mom.”

“What’s your mom’s name?”

“Dr. Jessica Locke.”

The nurse’s smile faltered for a moment.  “She’s your mother?”

“Yes.  What’s wrong?”  She thought again of the robbery.  Mom had been up on the fourth floor, still working.  The alarms hadn’t gone off and someone had silenced the guards.  Mom might not have even known they were in the museum.  “What happened to her?”

“I’d best let a doctor talk to you about that.  What I can tell you is that she’s upstairs in surgery right now.”

“Surgery?”

“You stay right here,” the nurse said.  “I’ll get a doctor to talk to you, all right?”

“No!  I want to see her.  I have to know she’s all right.”  She tried to slide off the table, but the nurse easily pushed her back down.  The nurse held her down with both hands.

“I know you’re concerned, but there’s nothing you can do for her right now.  You need to get some rest, understand?”

“I can’t rest.  Not right now.  I have to see her—”

She tried to get up a third time.  This time she found the nurse had through some sleight-of-hand managed to strap her down to the table.  “Don’t try moving too much.  You’re only going to hurt yourself.”

“At least tell me if she’s all right.  Can’t you do that?”  Tears came to
Lois’s eyes.  “Please, she’s my mom.  I have to know.”

The nurse touched
Lois’s hair and smiled.  “All I know is that she’s in surgery.  We probably won’t know for a few hours yet if she’s going to make it.  I’m very sorry.”

Lois
turned her head away as she heard the nurse leaving.  From the sound of it, Mom was in bad shape.  Just how bad she didn’t know.  What had happened to Mom after that creep knocked Lois out?  Had he tried to kill her?  She thought of the thieves in the museum.  The smelly man had saved her from them.  Maybe some of the others had killed him for it and then got Mom too.

She wasn’t sure how long it was when she heard a man’s voice say, “Miss Locke?”

The doctor was about Dr. Johnson’s age, though bald and potbellied.  He took a flashlight out of his pocket to shine in her eyes.  “Try and follow the light, please,” he said.  She tracked the light with her eyes, remembering when Melanie had administered a test like this.

“Are my pupils dilated?” she asked.

“They look fine,” the doctor said.  “We’ll have to run some tests to be sure, but I think you just have a bad bump on the noggin.”

“Great.  What about my mom?  The nurse said she’s in surgery.  What happened to her?”

“She was brought in with very severe injuries.  Third-degree burns on her chest.  Three bullet wounds in her back.  They’re doing everything they can for her upstairs.  We have some of the best surgeons—”

“Have you called her doctor?  Dr. Laura Pavelski—”

“She’s in the operating room with them.”

“That’s good,”
Lois said.  Mom would want Dr. Pavelski there even if she weren’t a surgeon.  She would want someone she trusted in the room.  That obviously couldn’t be Lois.  She thought of the man who had knocked her out and asked, “Was there anyone brought in with her?  Maybe a man in a trench coat who smells pretty bad?”

“The only others brought in were already dead, I’m afraid.  I’m not sure what any of them were wearing.”  He patted her on the shoulder.  “Now, while we wait, let’s worry a bit about you.  I’m going to get someone to take some pictures of your head.”

“A CAT scan.  You can talk to me like a big girl, Doc.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Locke.  How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“I have a daughter about your age.”

“That’s great.  You think you can loosen these straps?”

“Only if you’re not going to run away.  Carla said you were very adamant about going to see your mother.”

“I was still groggy.  I’m thinking more clearly now.”

The doctor made a noise in his throat.  “I think for now it would be best if we keep you strapped to the gurney.  We wouldn’t want you falling off on the way to Radiology.”

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Once we’ve finished running tests, the nurse will have some forms for you to sign.  Is there anyone else you’d like us to call?”

“Dr. Richard Johnson.  He’s my uncle.”

“I’ll pass that along.  In the meantime, let’s go for a little trip, shall we?”

* * *

They left her strapped onto the gurney until it was time for the CAT scan.  Only then did they loosen the restraints to transfer her to the machine.  She couldn’t have run even if she wanted to, still too weak from the bump on the head.  So she laid back and let them take the scan and then run some other tests.  They took some of her blood too, though she wasn’t sure what for, unless they wanted to check her compatibility with Mom.  Would Mom need a transfusion?  She had never thought to look up Mom’s blood type to see if they were a match.  Probably not, she thought.  They hadn’t been compatible in anything, ever.

Once they had finished with everything, Nurse Carla wheeled Lois into another little cubicle.  She adjusted the gurney so that Lois was in a sitting position when Dr. Johnson came through the curtain.  He didn’t waste any words, smothering her with a hug straight away.  “Oh thank God,” he said.  “When they called and said what happened, I thought—”

“I’m fine,”
Lois said into his shoulder.  “What about Mom?”

“They’re still working on her.  How’s your head?”

“Getting better,” Lois said, looking over at the nurse.  She waited for the nurse to leave before she began crying again.  Dr. Johnson patted her head, careful not to touch the lump made by the smelly man’s gun.  “It’s my fault.”

“Don’t say that,
Lois.  You didn’t do anything.”

“I should have warned her.  I should have gone straight up there instead of trying to call for help.”

“Hey, come on.  You just did what you thought was best.”

“They might not have gotten her if I hadn’t been so stupid.  If I had warned her, she might have hidden somewhere.  She might be OK.”

Dr. Johnson tipped her chin up to look her in the eye.  “Or they might have killed both of you.  Ever think of that?”

“Yes.”

He rubbed her back the way Mom had used to do when she wanted to comfort Lois, as she had in the diner.  “There’s no point worrying about it.  All we can do right now is pray that your mom pulls through.”

Lois
thought of the files she had seen from Dr. Pavelski.  Mom was already in rough shape.  The doctor had said Mom’s internal organs were still strong, so maybe she could beat this.  Or maybe years of long hours spent worrying about her prodigal daughter and the museum would leave her too weak to survive.

The nurse brought in a clipboard loaded to bursting with forms for
Lois to fill out.  Much of the information she didn’t know.  What kind of insurance did Mom have?  Did it still cover Lois?  Some of it like her Social Security number she hadn’t used—at least not her real one—in so long that she couldn’t remember.  Dr. Johnson helped her fill in some of the blanks.

One question she stared at for a long time.  “Richard, do you know if Mom wanted…if she wanted to be resuscitated?”

“I never asked her about that, I’m afraid.  She might have left something in the house.”

The horrible reality began to sink in for
Lois.  Right now she was responsible for her mother.  Mom didn’t have any other living relatives, leaving her screw-up daughter with de facto power of attorney.  So long she had wanted everyone to treat her like an adult and now she might have to decide between life and death.  “Oh God,” she said and began to sob.

“It’s OK,” Richard said.  “Maybe it won’t come up.  Maybe your mom will pull through.”

Dr. Pavelski chose that moment to brush the curtain aside.  She was wearing green scrubs that had some blood—Mom’s no doubt—splattered on them.  More telling was her expression, like a prolonged wince.  “Lois, we did everything we could for your mom—”

“She’s dead?  You bitch!”  With more speed and agility than even she thought possible,
Lois sprang from the table.  Dr. Johnson caught her, wrestling her back onto the table. 

“
Lois, stop it!  That’s not what your mother would want.  Understand?”  Dr. Johnson employed a Glare of his own, one just as effective as Mom’s. 

“I’m sorry,”
Lois whispered.  “I’m sure you tried.”

“She’s alive,
Lois,” the doctor said.  “She’s critical, but she’s still alive.”

“Then why are you looking like that?  Why did you say you did what you could for her?”

Dr. Pavelski risked taking Lois’s hand.  She gave it a squeeze.  “One of the bullets hit your mom’s spine.  We did the best we could for her, but I’m afraid that even if she pulls through this, she’s never going to walk again.”

The next thing
Lois remembered, Dr. Johnson and the bald doctor from earlier were holding her down while the nurse jabbed a needle in her arm.  Then she fell asleep.

Chapter 9

The hospital could have charged her with assault for nearly wringing the life out of Dr. Pavelski.  The doctor refused to press charges, though.  She was recovering in a room down the hall, but other than a little laryngitis she was fine.  At least that’s what Dr. Johnson said.  Lois couldn’t remember anything except the nurse giving her a shot.

“You gave me quite a scare,” Dr. Johnson said.  “I thought you might—”

“Kill her?”

“You wouldn’t, though, would you?”

“I don’t know,” Lois said.  “How long have I been out?”

“Six hours.”

“Oh.”  Lois put a hand to her head.  She still felt a bit fuzzy from the knock on the head and the shot.  “Did you tell her that I’m sorry?”

“I’m sure she knows you didn’t mean it.  You were upset.”

“How’s Mom?”

“Still in critical condition.  She’s still unconscious.  That’s probably for the best.”

“And still crippled?”

“We don’t know.  It might be a while until we know for sure how bad it is.”  He patted her on the knee.  “They showed me some of the X-rays.  It looks bad.  Really bad.  I’m not sure how she’s still alive right now.”

If anyone else had said that she might have wrung his neck too, but she couldn’t do that to Dr. Johnson.  He was the closest to a father she’d ever known.  “Thank you for not sugarcoating it,” she whispered.

“But look, your mom’s a real tough customer.  She’s already made it this far.  There’s no reason to think she can’t get through this.”

“Now you’re sugarcoating it.”

“I just don’t want you to lose hope.  That’s all we have at times like this.”  He pulled up a chair to sit next to her gurney and then took her hand.  “You weren’t here when
Betty got sick.  Trust me, it was a lot like this.  Sometimes we were sure she was going to die within the hour.  Sometimes I thought she would live another ten years.  Even at the end, when she was wasted away and her hair all gone, I thought she could make it.  She did too.  The last time I saw her, she talked about wanting to go to Paris, like we did for our honeymoon.”

Dr. Johnson was crying now.  It was
Lois’s turn to comfort him.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for that.  Betty was a good woman.”

They were sitting there in gloomy silence when
Melanie came barreling through the curtain.  She threw herself against Lois, clamping her arms around Lois in a hug.  “Oh my God, I just heard!  I’m so sorry!  How’s your mom?”

“Resting.  The surgery was successful.”

“That’s great!  How about you?  Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine.  It’s just a bump on the head.”

“It’s so sad about poor old Stan.  How could someone do that to him?”

“I don’t know.  What about the other guards?”

“They were just tied up for a while.  They should be fine.”

Lois
nodded, glad to know no one else had been killed—so far.  There was still a chance Mom might take a turn for the worst.  She looked over Melanie’s shoulder.  “Did Tony come with you?”

“No, I haven’t seen him since we left work.”

“I tried calling,” Dr. Johnson said.  “No one answered.”

“He’s probably at a bar or something,”
Lois said, unable to conceal her disappointment.  For a moment she had hoped he might come in with flowers and a card—and a kiss.  Instead he was probably out at the Brass Drum or somewhere else picking up more girls.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be here,”
Melanie said.  She pulled up a chair to sit on the opposite side of the gurney from Dr. Johnson.  “I still can’t believe it.  Why would someone want to rob the museum and steal a bunch of old junk?  No offense, Dr. Johnson.”

“None taken,” he said.  “There are plenty of jewels and such worth a lot of money.”

“Oh.  Well, it still seems weird.  And poor Dr. Locke.  Why would anyone want to hurt her?  She was such a super-nice lady, you know?”

“I know,”
Lois said.  She felt another wave of tears coming on.  Melanie was right that it didn’t make much sense.  Why had they killed one guard but not the others?  Why had they killed the guard but left Mom alive?  What about Lois?  She had been up in the gift shop and no one had touched her.  Where had the smelly man gone?  There were enough questions to make her head start spinning again and very few answers.

The bald doctor opened the curtain.  He glared at her, his voice icy when he said, “Your mother has regained consciousness.  Laura says you can see her for a couple of minutes.  But these gentlemen are going to accompany you.”  Two burly orderlies appeared to stand behind the doctor. 

Lois nodded and let Dr. Johnson and Melanie help her off the gurney.  One of the orderlies swung a wheelchair into the cubicle for her to sit on.  “Giddyup,” Lois growled as they pushed her towards the elevator.

* * *

Lois had seen a few medical television shows that gave her some idea of what to expect.  She still wasn’t prepared to see her mother lying on a bed, surrounded by an army of machines.  Some of these beeped to indicate Mom was still alive while others hissed as they breathed for her.  Lois gripped the armrests of her wheelchair tightly to keep from falling out.

The first thing she noticed was that they had shaved Mom’s head, leaving only a bit of gray down.  That was probably to keep her hair from getting in the way while they operated.  Mom was also lying on her side, facing away from the door. 
Lois could see the heavy bandages on Mom’s back stained with blood from the gunshot wounds.  She thought of what Dr. Pavelski had said about Mom not walking again and then what Dr. Johnson had said about the X-rays.  No, she didn’t look good.

Yet when she got out of the wheelchair and made her way unsteadily around the bed, she saw Mom’s
eyes open.  They looked just as blue and clear as before.  She couldn’t talk with the mask over her mouth.  Nor did it seem she could move her arms.  The bandages on her chest were just as thick as those on the front.  Despite the bandages, Mom’s chest looked flatter than before.  Had they removed her breasts?

Lois
wasn’t sure what to do.  She touched Mom’s cheek and was relieved to feel warmth there.  “Hi, Mom.”  Asking Mom how she felt seemed pointless at the moment.  “I’m here.  I’m still here.”

Though it was hard to tell, it seemed Mom nodded slightly at this. 
Lois wanted to take her mother’s hand, but she wasn’t sure if Mom would feel anything.  She moved her hand up instead to touch Mom’s shorn hair.  “You’re going to make it, Mom.  I know you are.  You’re too strong to die on me now.”  She couldn’t keep a brave face anymore; she started to sob as she had back in the cubicle.  “I’m sorry, Mom.  I should have warned you.  I should have got you out of there.  It’s my fault.”

Through her tears, she saw Mom shake her head.  She could hear her mother making a croaking sound against the mask.  “Don’t try to talk, Mom.”

But her mother didn’t listen.  She kept trying to speak into the mask.  Lois finally risked pulling the mask from her mother’s lips.  “Go,” Mom said.  “Not…safe.”

“I can’t leave you, Mom.  Not now.”

“Go!” Mom hissed.  Her eyes looked the angriest Lois had ever seen.  If it were possible, she would probably be shouting right now.  Was she that angry at Lois that she wanted her to go away?  “Hide.  Please.  Love…you.”

When Mom’s eyes closed
Lois’s heart stopped.  Listening to the monitor, she was relieved to hear that her mother’s heart was still beating.  She slipped the mask over Mom’s mouth so that she could get more air.

One of the orderlies opened the door.  “Time’s up,” he said.

“I’ll be right there,” she said.

They took her as far as the waiting room.  Apparently her doctor had decided she was healthy enough to be released.  Not that she planned on going very far.  She sat on a thinly-padded chair, thinking of her mother’s words.  Mom wanted her to go and hide.  Not safe, she had said.  Which meant she thought the thieves might try to eliminate her as a witness.  Not that she had witnessed very much.  Or maybe mom knew about the smelly man and thought he might come back for her.

If she didn’t come for him first.  Maybe he wasn’t friends with the robbers, but that man had known about the robbery, had been there before any alarms had gone off.  He hadn’t called the cops either.  Why not?  Why hadn’t he called for help?  Mom might still be walking and breathing on her own if he had.

As soon as she could, she was going to find him.  She would find him and get some fucking answers.  Mom might want her to run and hide, but she wasn’t going to.  Not anymore.  She had spent too much time running and hiding already.  She was going to stay and find the people who had done this to Mom.  Then she was going to make them pay.