Not Even Past (17 page)

Stern smiled. “I’m a man of many talents.”

A heavy door opened and closed. Donne looked to see the doctor. He shook Jersey Shore’s hand, and gave them a wave. He seemed way too cheerful to being doing examinations in an abandoned church.

A wave of pain rolled off him. Donne gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. When it passed, he asked, “How long has it been, Henry?”

“About—I don’t know—seven years ago?”

The doctor put on his white coat and took out a stethoscope. He pressed it to Donne’s chest. It was cold. His back stiffened, and that made everything hurt again. The doctor peeled at Donne’s bandages. Hair pulled with the gauze. Compared to every other pain, that twinge was almost pleasurable.

The doctor nodded. “You’re getting better. No infection. The wound is healing.”

“He’s a lucky man,” Stern said.

Donne looked around. “And it’s only been a few days.”

The doctor shined a light in Donne’s eyes. “How
do
you feel? Groggy? Nauseous? Or fine?”

“Less groggy than last night.”

The doctor nodded. “I understand you wanted to walk this morning. How far did you get?”

Donne wanted to tell him he walked across the church, picked up the basketball, and swished a three-pointer. The net was a tease. Donne had played in high school, started at shooting guard his senior year, even though he smoked weed every night. He wanted the ball in his hands right now.

“I couldn’t even lift my foot.”

Again the doctor nodded. “It’ll come.”

“No. I think the last time I saw you was the night I met Kate. The fundraiser at Olde Towne,” Donne said to Stern.

Stern shrugged. “That’s where you met her? Life’s small coincidences.”

Trying to pull those memories from the recesses of his brain made Donne feel like a spider was crawling around his gut.

Stern said, “I was poli sci. She was—”

“Education and English.”

Stern smiled. “She was always so busy working. When did you ever see her?”

Donne thought about Martin and Jeanne being “pretty close,” and the spider grew to tarantula size.

“She came back and left you.” Stern snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

The doctor was attaching new bandages to Donne. He turned to Stern and said, “Tell Luca to keep cleaning the wounds. Try some solid foods tonight.”

Donne closed his eyes. “I wish I couldn’t feel that.”

“Do you remember what Jeanne was working on when she ‘died’?” Stern used air quotes.

“I was busy with my own small business,” Donne said.

Donne kept searching his memory. As was often the case when he looked at the past, Donne wondered how stoned he was back then. It really was as bad as they said. He had memories of Jeanne’s wake, but Martin said there hadn’t been one.

And what else was trapped in his brain and needed to come out? Maybe he always knew about Martin and Jeanne, but couldn’t bring the information to the forefront. The tarantula started to grow again. Donne felt bile burn the back of his throat.

“Tell me,” Donne said. “I was pretty fucked up back then.”

Stern shook his head. “No.”

“You beat the crap out of her,” Donne said.

Stern leaned forward. “Two of my best men are dead because of you.”

“Why did Jeanne fake her death?”

Stern said, “The man she did go with shot you.”

Donne’s felt the tarantula climb up the inside of his chest into his throat.

Stern shook his head. “Don’t play games with me.”

It felt like there were pieces of a puzzle scattered about in front of Donne, but he couldn’t find the edges. But it appeared he was going to have a lot of time to sort through them. Despite the urge to get up, lying here would at least give him some time to sort things out. It felt like Stern was leading him somewhere, but Donne would have to get there himself.

Stern looked at his watch. “Remember, I’m going to help you.”

“Keep resting,” the doctor said. “You’re doing really well.”

They left, and Donne was left with Jersey Shore incessantly dribbling a ball. His name was Luca.

D
ONNE COULDN’T
even wait until 9
AM
. He’d kept oatmeal down the previous evening and did so again this morning. With a full stomach and no TV, he got sick of waiting. He let the second hand count and extra five seconds, and then he called for Luca.

“We’re going to walk today,” Donne said.

Luca nodded. “Uh-huh. Maybe one of us.”

They went through the same routine again, Luca getting his arm around Donne. Donne pivoted off the bed and his feet hit the floor. He didn’t need the IV anymore, so the position was less awkward, but if he lost his balance, he only had Luca to grab on to.

“You’re pushing it,” Luca said.

Donne grunted in response.

He knew Luca was right. But he had to heal fast. People don’t let you heal in an old abandoned church if they think you’re going to be hunky-dory. Donne didn’t want to be confined to a bed waiting.

It was warm in the church, but not warm enough to make him sweat as much as he was. They were letting him wear a T-shirt now, a white Hanes undershirt that it had gone gray and damp. Beads of sweat dripped off his hair into his eyes.

His abs and ass tightened. He did everything he could to balance himself. Again, he focused on making just one step. Pick up your left foot and put it forward. Then move the right one.

His leg twitched underneath him. Something that had always been instinct now took his full concentration.

“Pick an area you want to go to,” Luca said. “Where do you want to be?”

“Away from this bed.”

Luca shook his head, and Donne could feel it scruff against his arm. “You have to set a goal. Something specific.”

“The basketball net.”

Luca nodded. “And you want to beat me.”

“I will beat you.”

Luca chuckled. “You better get walking then.”

Donne blew out air and smiled. It was as close as he was going to get to a laugh. His muscles were screaming at him, like being heckled onstage. His face was drenched. He stared at the basketball net, the twine starting to fray just a bit on the bottom left side. He imagined putting up a free throw and it swishing. A lot of steps between then and now.

Now all he needed to do was take one.

A deep breath. His left foot slipped just a bit against the floor. He could feel dust particles digging into his toes. His feet twitched. Donne shut his eyes. Sweat burned underneath his lids.

He lifted his left foot.

His right knee started to buckle.

He put his foot down just a few inches in front where it had just been and let his weight settle.

“Nice,” Luca said. His voice was even.

Donne exhaled.

“One more.”

“You should rest.” Luca sounded bored.

“One.” He grunted. “More.”

Now he forced all his weight on to his left side. His right foot slid against the dust, and Donne pulled. His thigh muscles protested. The foot was off the ground. He swung his leg beneath him. Toes grazed the tile. He put it down in front of the left.

He screamed as if he’d just completed a marathon in less than two hours. His full weight collapsed into Luca. He felt Luca give way just a hair before steadying them against the momentum.

“Okay,” Donne said, trying to catch his breath. “Back to bed.”

“Yeah. Nice work.” Again, his voice was even, disinterested.

Luca turned them around, and Donne was surprised to see the bed was still within arms reach. It felt like he’d travelled miles. He leaned at the waist and put both hands on the edge. Took a few breaths. His heart was pounding.

Donne was back in the bed. The memory of walking just moments earlier was a blur. He couldn’t even picture it. His biggest accomplishment in weeks, and he could barely remember it. Somewhere else in the deep recesses of his mind, he realized he’d missed his exam.

“How are you tied to the senator?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Luca said. “Just be cool.”

“What is Stern tied up in?”

“Are you delirious?”

Maybe.

But Luca was also right. Donne needed more sleep. He grabbed the water bottle on the table next to his bed and drank some. The cold liquid spread through his body. His wounds weren’t throbbing. That was something.

“I want something to read,” Donne said. “Can you run out to a bookstore?”

Luca shook his head.

“Of course,” Donne said. “You can’t leave me. Because you have to make sure I don’t leave.”

“Far as I can tell, you can barely get two feet underneath you.”

Luca shook his head and walked away. He crossed the pulpit and went into a room behind the altar. Seconds later, Donne could hear a TV.

He leaned back into his pillow and tried to listen to whatever sitcom it was. All he could hear was the laugh track.

O
N THE
fifth night, the nightmares came.

He woke up screaming and thrashing in the bed. The thrashing sent pain shooting throughout his body. He could feel the gauze and tape tearing from his skin. The sound of his voice echoed throughout the church, and Luca would be rushing to him soon. Donne knew the drill.

Jeanne in the chair. Donne reaching for her, freeing her. Bill Martin raising the gun. Flashes of light.

A coughing fit racked through him. He fought for air, fought to calm his body. Jeanne had been so close. He almost had her.

Outside waves crashed.

Where the hell was he?

There were too many questions, but only one thought tore through his skull. He’d almost had Jeanne. She was alive, she was in his arms, and then she was gone again.

Donne stopped coughing, but instead began to shake. A full-on earthquake broke out across his body and he couldn’t get it to stop. His muscles spasmed, his teeth chattered, and his wounds felt like they were tearing apart. It was like going through withdrawal.

He brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. The doctor had been to see him again today and said he didn’t have to be hooked up to any more wires or tubes. That was the good news. The bad news was he was healing so well, his mind was clear again.

And that brought Jeanne’s face back full-force.

Luca was rubbing his eyes when he came in the room. “Jesus,” he said. “You’re like a little baby. Screaming in the middle of the night?”

“Go away,” Donne said.

“Can’t. If I know you’re awake, I have to check on you.” Luca pulled up a metal folding chair and sat in it. Wiped his eyes again, and yawned. “So what the hell is the matter with you?”

Donne clenched his teeth and stared at his toes. He was not going to give this guy what he wanted. Without knowing what Senator Stern was after, it was not a smart move to talk. His mind wanted to let it all out, though. Stories of Jeanne, of chasing her down, and watching Bill Martin shoot Nick and Calvin.

And then having her so close. He only wanted an hour with her. To talk to her and find out what happened. Where did it go wrong? Why did she have to run? His eyes felt wet. It was only sweat, he told himself.

The shaking started to subside, but he was still wary of aftershocks. She was in his arms, even if only for seconds.

Luca leaned back, the chair rising up on two legs. He put his hands behind his head and exhaled.

“You said her name,” he said.

Donne shut his eyes and saw Jeanne again. His concentrated on her face, and it morphed in to Kate.

Oh God, Kate.

She probably thought he had run off, freaked out by licking invitations. Maybe she thought he was dead in a gutter somewhere. His heart beat faster and some of the pain in his chest subsided. He felt hollow.

He unwrapped his arms from around his knees. Looked at his hands. Closed and then opened them several times.

“She lied to you, man.” Luca picked at one of his nails. “You thought she was dead. She didn’t want you.”

Waves crashed outside.

“I can’t figure it out,” Donne said. “We could be anywhere in New Jersey. After the storm, this could be anywhere.”

Luca said, “But you’re still worried about her. You said her name in your sleep.”

Donne ignored him. Kept focusing on the waves.