The Willow Tree: A Novel (3 page)

        in time reaching an area with broken cardboard cartons and old rags and leaned against a wall and slowly and carefully lowered himself to the floor, leaned against the wall, lifted his legs, rested his arms on his knees, then his head on his arms, and fell into sleep.

The paramedics tried to take Marias hands from her face and calm her and listen to the women holding her who were trying to tell them what had happened, twisting and spinning in erratic circles as Maria fought them, the women refusing to let her go, the paramedics continuing to reassure the women and Maria and eventually tugged Maria free of the women as she continued to scream and jerk around until one of the paramedics managed to hug her and force her hands down and the other one winced as he saw the burns on her face and quickly gave her an injection, telling her it was alright, theyd get her to the hospital in just a few minutes and everything would be alright, just take it easy, we/re here to help you, just let us take care of you…itll be alright…just hold on…Maria continuing to scream until the injection took effect and soon she was hanging from their arms and they carefully put her in the ambulance and laid her down on the stretcher and strapped her securely and started the weaving, wailing drive through traffic to the hospital where she was wheeled into the ER and started hours of waiting, strapped to a gurney in the hall, when the pain started pushing through as the painkiller started wearing off and Maria rolled her head back and forth, groaning, trying to free her hands and panicking when she was unable to move, her moaning growing louder and more desperate the more the pain increased and she started crying with pain and fear and in time a doctor looked at her, and the report, and told the attendants to wheel her into a treatment room, the nurses watching the gurney being placed under the light, barely hearing Marias moaning and crying above the noises that were a constant part of their working day, the screaming and yelling, the pleading, begging, demanding, the total terror in the faces of family members, and one nurse gently held Marias head while the other one assisted the doctor, Keep still honey so we can help you—but Maria was completely controlled by her agony and yelled and screamed and thrashed her head around, struggling against the straps, and the doctor yelled to keep her head still for krists sake, I cant do a fucking thing if you dont keep her from—you have to stay still or I cant help you—shit, look at this mess—wheres that fucking ointment for krists sake and give her 75 mg of Demerol…and soon they became aware that Maria was quieting and her head barely moved and only low moans were intermittently coming from her throat, Well, guess she aint no addict, 75 mg of Demerol never put a junkie out—and the nurse held Marias head as the doctor applied the ointment as rapidly as possible—jesus krist, just a fucking kid and some asshole throws lye in her face O shit, it looks like she may have gotten some in the eye—someone stuck their head in the doorway—Make it quick, we got a jumper whos breathin but just barely—Yeah, sure—and he finished medicating Maria and yelled for an orderly to get her to the burn ward, and filled in the forms and clipped them to her chart and Maria was wheeled out the door, still asleep, and started the journey to the 9th floor burn ward.

Maria was put into a bed and left in the merciful arms of sleep.

Neighbors told Marias family what had happened, and a friend watched the 2 younger children while Marias mother and grandmother rushed to the hospital, getting to her bed as Maria was in the process of regaining consciousness, almost collapsing when they saw her head completely covered with bandages, only tiny slits for her eyes and mouth, moving slightly and moaning from time to time, then going back into unconsciousness. A nurse was taking her blood pressure, Marias mother looking at her pleadingly, then at Maria, and asking in her limited English how she was. The nurse wasnt certain what the woman was saying but she understood the look of fear on her face and did the best she could to explain that she was very sick but would be alright, nodding her head and saying,
Bueno, bueno,
the mother nodding in return,
Si, si,
then turning to the grandmother and telling her in Spanish that Maria would be alright, both women crossing themselves and sitting next to the bed and keeping a silent vigil until Maria awakened. They could sense the pain of the other patients, hearing the moans and prayers, the anguish in many different languages, but their concern for Maria kept them focusing on her, and they watched her chest move slightly with each shallow breath, their hands folded on their laps. At first the women started to reach out to her whenever she moved, but soon stopped when they realized Maria was unaware of their presence so they sat silent, immobile, hands folded on their laps, the rhythm of their bodies and minds attuned with that of Marias breathing, less and less aware of their surroundings, seeing and hearing only the sobbing breath going into their little girls body, and as it left bringing the pain and terror that frail body and frightened mind was experiencing, the sense of that pain increasing with each breath as did the movement of her body, the increase imperceptible at first as they continued to hypnotically stare at her, but then the pained movements of Marias body became obvious and they simultaneously adjusted themselves on their chairs and the grandmother placed her hands on Marias legs, still praying, and her mother brushed the hair back from Marias face, trying to see her eyes, trying to take her childs pain away by gently rubbing her shoulders, holding her hands, softly talking to her, trying to soothe away the fear with gentle and loving words to her daughter, My little girl, it is alright, momma is here precious jewel of my heart—and she looked at Maria with a tenderness that somehow escaped the anguish that came from the marrow of her bones and felt like it would consume her in time, but now she would not allow that because her little princess needed the love from her mothers heart and so she would postpone her pain, for now, so she could soothe away her daughters pain and she gently rubbed Marias arm, and her heart with her words, feeling her words and her love being absorbed by Maria and believed in its power, yet Marias uneasiness increased and her body shook from time to time with sobs and pain and now the sobbing breath was leaving her body spastically, sometimes twisted with a whine and a choking moan and her mother told the grandmother she would go for a nurse and left the room, the old woman continuing to keep her hands on Marias legs and praying.

The sounds of Marias pain were still filling her mothers mind as she looked around desperately, not knowing what she was looking for, knowing only her baby was in pain and needed something and there must be someone here who could help her, a doctor, a nurse, someone, but her babys cries distorted her vision and she continued looking up and down the corridor, starting to move in one direction, then another, until finally she noticed the nurses station down the hall and she rushed in that direction and almost bumped into a nurse, instantly talking very rapidly in Spanish, the look of confusion on the nurses face increasing with each word, Do you speak English? Marias mother stared at her for a moment…
O si, si,
is Maria—twisting her hands in an attempt to find the right words in a language alien to her—my dau…girl—looking toward Marias room and gesturing, tears coming from her blinking eyes, trying to blink understanding to herself and the nurse, her desperation increasing with each breath, the nurse reassuring her that she would have the doctor see Maria just as soon as possible, and Marias mother rushed back to the room and continued soothing her daughter, telling her everything would be alright as the grandmother continued praying, her hands on Marias legs, Maria recognizing her mothers voice and trying to reach out to her but was unable to move her arms but the mother leaned close to her little ones face and continued to speak soothingly to her as Maria cried and wanted to hug and kiss her mother but the pain in her face made that impossible so the mother gently rubbed Marias shoulders and arms and kept her face just inches away from Marias and told her that momma was there and would take care of her little princess and Maria wept and simply said momma, momma, momma, the old woman holding tight to the legs of her granddaughter, silently praying, the words louder and louder in her head to disperse the confusion and pain of seeing this little girl in so much agony, her face all bandages, only tiny slits for eyes that were pouring tears and though the eyes were almost invisible the old woman could see the agony and fear in them and so she closed hers from time to time, trying to stop trying to understand how such a thing could happen to someone who every morning brought her grandmother a bowl of hot coffee and a piece of soft bread, what kind of world was this that threw fire into her little girls face, but she could not always keep her eyes from looking for Marias and feeling the pain fill her heart as the bandages became more and more damp from Marias weeping, and the mother told her little princess to give her the pain and she would wear it for her and give it to the Blessed Virgin who always looked over her and her precious baby, and the mothers soothing voice reassured and relaxed the girl lying on the bed and though she choked and jerked and shivered from time to time from crying, and moaned with pain and panic, she did become a little more relaxed and in time stopped tossing and twisting and moved only slightly as she continued weeping and calling to her mother as the women continued praying and soothing….

Moishe looked down at Bobby, watching and listening to him breathe, studying his face, at first thinking he was just another drunk when he noticed the smell of liquor coming from Bobby, but he somehow didnt feel he was. His face, though badly beaten, didnt seem to be the face of a drunk. Moishe looked at his clothes, more than his face, to figure his age, and it seemed he was still in his early teens, and he wondered what a teenager was doing here. The kids were always beating each other up, but they never came here…actually just about no one ever came here, the entire area for miles around being deserted and, in some ways, resembling Europe right after the war but that was another time, another life…hopefully. But what was this boy doing here? Moishe looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then closed his eyes and sighed.

He shook his head and knelt beside Bobby, studying the bruises and cuts on his face, noticing the tremors in his body, some slight, almost imperceptible yet significant to Moishe, telling him there were many unseen bruises, but probably no broken bones…allowing all his senses to filter and assimilate the information before reaching out and gently touching Bobbys shoulders and holding them for a moment, then shaking Bobby slightly until he started moving his head.

Moishe continued studying Bobby, aware of how he was moving his head, the expression on his face, the evidence of pain even though Bobby was still not conscious, the only sound that of Bobbys shoulders rubbing against the flaking wall.

Bobbys movements started slowing so Moishe shook him gently, again, by the shoulders, this time a little longer, feeling Bobby resist him, knowing Bobby wanted to shake loose of Moishes hands, but was unable to do so. When Bobby started mumbling Moishe stopped shaking him and leaned back slightly and as soon as Bobby started moving or mumbling less he shook him again until he noticed Bobbys eyelids start to flutter then started talking to him, from time to time poking him gently on the leg when he seemed to be going back into unconsciousness, Bobby jerking his leg away, the movement lacking resolve and energy, scrutinizing him even more closely now that he was on the border of consciousness, continually in touch with his own inner response to Bobbys movements and what they said to him. He nudged his leg again and Bobby started to frown but stopped instantly as the pain registered….

You should wake up already—his German accent strong yet his words clear. Bobby stirred, his movements and expression reflecting his battle with the increasing awareness of pain as the numbing effects of the whiskey and sleep were rapidly disappearing. Moishe continued watching and was silent for a moment, then told Bobby he should talk to him. Can you talk???? Say something. I need for you to talk.

Moishe continued to watch Bobby struggle against the pain and consciousness, his body and face reflecting the pain more and more. Youre hearing me???? Whats your name? Tell me already your name.

Bobby started groaning and shifted his weight slightly, Huh???? Wha???? Ohhhh…Mutha fu….

Tell me already your name.

Name???? Wha the….Bobbys eyes started fluttering open and he tried peering at Moishe, but pain closed them almost instantly, but he continued forcing them open, Moishe watching intently, letting his head hang forward for a moment then forcing it up, his eyes open in two swollen slits…Who….What you want???? Bobby struggling to keep his balance and his eyes open, trying desperately to remember where he was, remembering the beating, aware of the pain and vaguely seeing this weird face of some old honky in front of him, but there was nothing else, just an increasing awareness of pain, everywhere pain, and it got worse with every breath.

You know your name?

Huh????—squinting, shaking his head, Wha the, course I got a name yo—the effort of speaking sending shocks of pain thru his body and igniting his face—Ooohhhh

Moishe reached out and steadied Bobby, Youre relaxing, no talking for while—continuing to steady Bobby and watching him deal with his pain, more and more certain Bobby did not have a concussion. Bobby suddenly looked at him, Yeah….I remember….This be a bandoned building, Ohhh—he stopped talking and closed his eyes for a moment, Moishe feeling the tremors going thru Bobbys body, Youre hurting bad. Bobby took a slightly deeper breath and raised his head for a moment, then lowered it again, I be alright—his voice weak, thick.

Can you move…walk maybe?

Bobby wanted to say, How the fuck you think I got here yo crazy old man, but was able only to nod very gently for just a few inches.

You should go to the hospital.

Bobby shook his head and spoke through his pain, No—starting to push himself up, Moishe gently restraining him, Rest. Moishe watched the pain subside slightly, Theres somebody should know youre here? No…no—straining thru pain—no…raising his head again but this time keeping it up and looking Moishe in the face, Moishe easily understanding the pleading, ‘please’, in Bobbys look, Moishe continuing to look into Bobbys eyes then nodded his head and Bobby allowed his head to lower, his eyes to close. Moishe continued to support Bobby, thinking he could treat Bobby, feeling Bobby was safe and trusting his feelings. He continued kneeling beside Bobby until he raised his head slightly and looked at Moishe, then stood up, So…looking down at Bobby for a moment who had to be content with seeing only Moishes feet…wait. Moishe almost laughing out loud when thinking Bobby had a choice.