Pieces of Hope (58 page)

“Ethan
said you weren’t that bad off,” Charlotte
babbled on. “I’m sure you look worse than you actually feel.”

My voice
was barely a whisper. “I hope so.”

We took
another collective breath and continued staring.

“Do you
think it’s going to hurt?” I winced. Of course, it was going to hurt. It was
going to royally suck. It was going to hurt like a thousand train wrecks.

We
stared another moment.

“You’re
under a lot of meds,” Charlotte
went on.
Rin
and I looked at her as though she were
making it up. “What? No, you are. I talked to Ethan for a long time at the
party. We discussed a lot of things. That was one. And . . .” she added
proudly, “I remembered.” Yes, the dead and their poor memories.

Rin
looked surprised. “Good for you, Char.”

“What
else did you talk about?” I asked, hoping to put off the inevitable another
gut-wrenching moment longer.

“Stuff,”
she said, folding her arms over her chest.

“What
kind of stuff?”

“Why
don’t you just get back in your body and find out?” She sounded so darned
spunky. I liked this new version of Charlotte.

“Do you
think I’ll feel any different?” I wondered.

Rin
thought for a moment and then said, “Heavy, I would
think.” Before I could ask, she went on, “Souls tend to be light. I think a
body will feel . . .”

“Heavy,”
I repeated for her, thinking what good sense that made.
    

By now,
Ethan was staring a hole into me as if I were about to bolt up, throw back a
huge Hope Van Winkle yawn, and prance my little backless-gowned self straight
out of the ICU.

And he
had everyone’s attention. Claire and Brody had gathered at the end of the bed,
studying me with the same narrow focus as Ethan. Gigi, alongside Dad and across
from Ethan were eyeing me with such faith—such blind, stupid,
Hope-can-wake-up-from-a-coma-and-be-good-as-new
faith
—that I knew a more perfect moment would never arrive. If I
stood here even two seconds longer, that moment would slip right past me.

I hugged
Charlotte
first, squeezing her until she begged for breath, then I held onto
Rin
. We were all crying, wiping our noses by the time I
gripped the rail, mimicking the way I’d watched
Amora
do it just thirteen days ago.

Thirteen
days . . . more like a lifetime, it seemed.

“Be
brave,” they said together, tears flowing freely.
 

“We’ll
be right here when you wake up.”
Rin
forced a smile.

I tried
to say something back, but couldn’t. It was the fluttering, I realized . . . It
unnerved me, left me incapable of feeling anything but fear because I knew it
wasn’t the good kind . . .

The kind
that made your tongue trip and your insides flip in anticipation.
No.
This, without question, was the kind
that made you wish you were only dreaming. The kind that made you want to run
screaming in the opposite direction. The kind that left little doubt in your
mind that something terrifying was about to happen.

I looked
at my hand where it gripped the bedrail. It wouldn’t stop shaking.

“You’ll
stay with me?” Be brave . . . be brave . . . be brave . . .

They
nodded together, crossed their hearts. Then I crawled onto the bed, closed my
eyes tight, and lay back into my body. Just before I crashed, I realized two
things.

I
definitely saw a shadow in the corner of the room (and I didn’t think it was
Daniel). And I’d forgotten to ask Charlotte what the big horrible
but
was . . .

28
Big Buts

Even
with my eyes closed, I could smell them.

Though I
didn’t know why, there were people hovering around me. I guessed there were
five . . . no, seven. Two of them I couldn’t actually smell, but I definitely
knew there was seven.

To my
left, a woman—Expensive. Chanel or Prada or some other
designery
scent. Next to her, an older man. Homey. Soapy. And then a pair of fragrances
so close that they mingled together. One, a female’s—citrus. The other, a
male’s. The kind they advertise on TV that gets the girls. Then, the two I
couldn’t place. The two I could only sense. The two that had no scent.

The last
person was to my right. Close. I lingered over him the longest. He had a scent
that made my heart speed up. He smelled of dark woods, reminding me a little of
an Oregon summer. And clean, just a hint of fabric softener. They were both my
favorites. The combo was insanely intoxicating.
     

Do you think she’s all right?
I heard an
unknown little-girl voice saying.
I would
have thought she’d be awake by now. Do you think she’s in pain?

I don’t know, Charlotte. Give her a minute.

Did I do the wrong thing?
The youthful
voice sounded torn.
Should I have told
her she might not remember . . . traveling, her mom, the Ferris wheel . . .

You mean everything, Charlotte.

Yes, well . . . I couldn’t break her heart
like that. There’s a chance, isn’t there . . . a chance she’ll remember?
The
one named Charlotte
was pleading now.

Creesie
would say there’s always a chance . . . the
heart will find a way or something like that. Sometimes you
gotta
have faith . . .

Don’t go quoting me song lyrics! You know
how I love George Michael.
 

There
was the sound of sniffling and long, drawn-out breaths.

Charlotte
, don’t cry. You’ll make me cry. You know
how I hate to do that.
  

I was
preoccupied with the sound of the two girls talking. I was fairly sure I wasn’t
hearing them with my ears, but if not, how could I hear them? My fuzzy brain
refused to think; it was as if it hadn’t been used in a while. And why did I
feel so heavy? It felt like a hundred pound weight was sitting on my chest.
When I attempted to exhale, it didn’t budge. It hurt. I wanted it off me.

I should
just open my eyes, I thought. Open . . . Eyes.
 

WHO
SUPERGLUED MY EYES SHUT?
Oh, God! I can’t
breathe! I can not breathe!
SOMEBODY GET THIS WEIGHT OFF ME! SOMEBODY HELP
ME!

Hope?
The little-girl voice paused.
I think you can hear me . . . right? Just
take a shallow breath. You’re okay. And say something else. I heard you just
now.

I
breathed in little breaths.
Who . . . are
. . . you?

There
was a long pause. Nobody answered.

Um . . . hello out there . . . I don’t think
I’m speaking with my mouth. Am I crazy? Oh, God! Oh, God! I’m schizophrenic,
aren’t I? I’ve always known Aunt Dee was nuts.
I’VE CAUGHT SCHIZOPHRENIA!

She doesn’t remember us!
the girl wailed
as she cried.

Calm down, Charlotte. Maybe it’s just temporary.

Hey . . .
Helloooo
!
. . . Crazy person here!

You aren’t crazy, Hope. Just calm down. I’m
Rin
. Call me,
Rin
.

The one
with the little-girl voice spoke again.
Tell
her something else.

She can hear you, Charlotte. Just talk to
her!
Rin
sounded testy.

Hey, um, Hope . . . It’s me, Charlotte. I
think if you calm down you might feel a little better.

Is there something on my chest? Do you see
it? Can you get it off?

No, Hope. There’s nothing on your chest . .
. By the way, it’s me again . . . you know, Charlotte.

For goodness sake, Charlotte. She recognizes your voice. She’s
not deaf!

Stop it,
Rin
! I’m
nervous! You’re going to make me cry again!

Don’t cry, Charlotte,
I said, calmly.
There’s not a weight on my chest?

No, there isn’t. See, you’ve been in an
accident . . . a car wreck and you’ve been in a coma for thirteen days. That’s
why you feel so funny.

I sucked
in a breath, a more substantial one.

“Did
everyone see that?” It was Brody’s voice. I heard him with my ears!

Hope, are you still with us?
Charlotte asked softly.

Yes, I’m here.

The thing is . . . this car accident . . .
well, you met us during that time and you became our . . . our friend . . . and
. . .
She broke off, crying again.
 

Then
Rin
took over.
Charlotte
is trying to say . . . well, we hope you won’t
forget us. We’re not sure you’re going to be able to see us when you open your
eyes . . .

So I am schizophrenic?

She
laughed.
No, it’s a little more
complicated than that.

I
panicked.
You tell me to be calm and then
you say something like that?

Hope, it’s nothing to be scared of,
Charlotte soothed.

Oh, good,
I said, breathing in an out in
an almost normal pattern now.

There
was muffled whispering in my head. It sounded like an argument.

What is it?
I finally asked as my heart
raced off.
Please tell me.

Yeah, the complicated thing is . . .
Rin
cleared her throat.
We’re
dead.

An alarm
bell went off near my head. It was loud and hurt my ears. Then that boy with
the woodsy scent shut it off. I smelled him as his hand went by.

You should try to open your eyes now,
Rin
urged.

I tried
again. My eyelids seemed disconnected from my brain.

“Look!”
Brody shouted. “She’s trying to open her eyes!

“Hope?”
Dad squeezed my hand. “Can you open your eyes, honey?”

Brody gave
another ear-shattering shout from the end of my bed, shaking my left leg in his
exuberance. I winced in pain. “Why isn’t she opening her eyes?” he cried. “Oh, God
. . . is she brain-dead?”

Dad
spoke over Brody. “You’ve been in a car accident, honey. But you’re going to be
all right. Can you hear us, honey?” He sounded so scared. “You’re in the
hospital. Can you say something?”

“Hope,
are you brain-dead?” Brody repeated. He was such a
doof
,
as if the brain-dead could answer him. “I’m telling you Claire, she won’t ever
be the same! I just know it!” Brody’s voice was muffled now. It sounded like
his hands were covering his face. I wanted to tell him to shut the hell up. I
wanted to sit up and slap him.
  

Hope, it’s me,
Charlotte said
. You might want to say something soon.

Try using your mouth,
Rin
suggested a little sarcastically.

“Hope,
it’s your grand . . . it’s Gigi. For goodness sake, open your eyes. If you
don’t, I’m going to give Brody all your CD’s. I know how you love them and I
swear I’ll do it. Don’t test me! I’m going to count to five, young lady . . .”

I
concentrated. If they would only shut up for a second, I was sure I could
manage. Open . . . Eyes. Come on! Open
Open
Open!

“One . .
. two . . .”

Try again,
Charlotte encouraged.

“Three .
. . four . . .”

Concentrate, Hope!
Rin
demanded.
Are you sure you’re
concentrating?

I’m concentrating! Just shut up, will you? I
can’t think straight!

Yeah, shut up,
Rin
.
She’s trying to think. Go ahead and think, Hope.

“Four
and a half . . . four and three quarters . . .”

CON-CEN-TRATE!
I told myself. CON-CEN-TRATE!

“I’m
telling you she’s
brai
—”

“Shut
up, Brody. I’m not brain-dead . . . You are.” In my ears it sounded like I was
screaming, but my mouth was so dry, I was sure it wasn’t more than a whisper. I
pressed my lips together and practiced swallowing. The good-smelling boy to my
right stuck something plastic in my mouth. I sucked in several ice-cold gulps
of water. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I could speak. That was a victory.

A long
moment later came the laughter. At first, it was the nervous kind—the kind that
bursts forth when no one’s really sure if it’s okay to laugh or not, the kind
that starts off really soft and then roars off into a crazy crescendo.

Just not
from me or the great-smelling boy beside me.

He must
have stuck his finger in something gooey before he rubbed it over my eyes
because at that moment I could finally open them. And he was the first person I
saw. I knew I must have been hallucinating—on some powerful drugs of the best
kind—because he was undeniably breathtaking, even with that big black eye.
 

He had a
square jaw and a wide mouth. His teeth were straight and white. It was the kind
of mouth that was made for kissing. And even as I considered this, I heard that
cartoon sound effect in my head—the one that the coyote’s feet makes when he
comes to a grinding halt. This guy was out of my league. Way out. Yes,
definitely.
Maybe.
It had to be from
the drugs in my system. Yes, that was it. I was probably high.

“Hello,
Hope. Welcome back.” He smiled, but there was such sadness in his eyes. His
voice was deep. It resonated inside me, striking a chord that was so familiar,
like a voice I had heard before and loved . . .
  

Yes, I
was definitely high.

 
I glanced around the room. My eyes didn’t move
quite right; they seemed to get stuck at times, and I would have to exert
effort to make them move again. I was beginning to gather how serious this was;
I thought I’d heard Gigi threaten to give away my CD’s. The whole family was
there: Gigi, Claire, Brody, Dad, great-looking, great-smelling boy and . . .