The Guardian's Wildchild (14 page)

Sidney supported her back against the bed’s headboard. She began to fully comprehend where she was. The previous few days were a collection of moments merging into the next without any logical sequence, punctuated by hazy glimpses of faces and machines. But she clearly remembered standing beside her body at one point. An officer’s hat was on the bedside table. Sitting on her bed was a stranger with his arms around her shoulders. Her hand was tightly enveloped in his.

Then, as the physical world had begun to recede, Seamus’ voice had sounded clearer than ever before. He was urging her to return to her body.

“Sidney, my precious, there’s more for you to do.”

“Seamus,” she’d called out to the familiar voice, “the body’s state is beyond my ability to heal.”

“If the body can be healed, would you choose to return?”

“Have I not completed my work?”

“You’ve done well. The Light shines brightly along the path you’ve cultivated. Many are finding their way to the Guardian path, one you tilled and lovingly sowed the seeds of the Creator’s Light and unconditional love into. But there’s much more. There are those who wait for you in the physical dimension. Will you return?”

Sidney found herself surrounded by mist. It glowed with a Light that shone from beyond its veil. She felt drawn ever higher and faster toward the Light, like she was on a ship approaching the shoreline of her home. The joy of returning was overwhelming. Then she saw him on the sandy shore.

Seamus rode a dusty, black horse. Unable to recall her previous incarnations, Sidney had always imagined him to be like an ancient sage, old and bent.

“Seamus, I … ” She fell to her knees, in awe of meeting the spirit that had guided and comforted her throughout her life’s challenges. Now she remembered they had shared many past lives.

He sat proud on the mare’s back. His dark, long hair framed his chiseled face and brown eyes. He reminded her of Greystone, though perhaps younger. She stood before him, her mind racing back through time, at last remembering when she and Seamus had shared many lives together.

His horse danced and shied away.

“Easy, Dusty.” Seamus dismounted and came to Sidney, taking hold of her shoulders. “My precious, stand with me.”

Sidney recognized his signature energy. Even if she hadn’t seen him or heard his voice, she’d have known it was Seamus who embraced her. She felt strong again.

“You ask me to return. There’s more?”

“It’s your choice. You’re welcome to stay and be with me again. Or you may choose to return to your body. Either way, you serve the higher good.”

“Either way, you’ll be at my side?”

“Me … and Celeste.” He laughed.

Sidney suddenly heard the hawk’s call. She couldn’t see Celeste, but she knew her childhood companion was near. As she stood with Seamus, Sidney was aware of something calling her back. She could resist. It was
her
choice. The desire to stay with Seamus was powerful. But so was the voice calling her to return. She became aware of a deeper knowing, something she couldn’t express — but it longed for her, had been waiting for her in the physical dimension. It filled her with a tender warmth and more.

“I’ll return, Seamus.”

Seamus’s energy swirled and glowed with brilliant, iridescent colors. He drew her into his arms and lifted her face to his. She gazed into the softness of his eyes and became lost in their message of unconditional love for her. Gently, he lifted her and carried her back to the mist. She could no longer see him but felt cradled in his strong arms. Again she had felt the weight and restriction of her body.

She understood from the medical staff that that had been two nights ago, the night they’d all expected her to die. They made no secret of their surprise at the speed with which she was recovering. At the moment, she was alone, the staff busy with other duties in the main infirmary.

Perhaps
, she thought,
I’ll just slip gently over the side, unhook the bag and chain contraption, and edge my way toward the doorway. See if anyone notices
.

When her bare feet hit the floor, she found her legs wobblier than expected. The lack of food for so many days had taken its toll. Still she persisted. She could see through the glass windows that Lorna and the male nurse in the main infirmary were busy stocking shelves and cleaning equipment. She unhooked the urinary bag from the bed and eased her way to the room’s open porthole.

She caught a glimpse of the shoreline and docks toward the far end of the ship’s bow and wondered at what city the boat was anchored in. She caught the salty breeze in her nostrils and breathed in, then shuffled toward the room’s door, opened it, and peered into the main infirmary.

“Excuse me?” she said.

Lorna dropped the box she was holding and glared at Sidney. “What in the world do you think you’re doing! No one said you were allowed to get up! If you wanted help, you could have used the call button. Get back into your room.” She waved her hands in the air as if to shoo a dog.

“I just want to make a visit to the bathroom. I don’t know where it is.”

Lorna stood with her hands on her hips. “Now, why do you need the bathroom?”

“I’d like to clean up a bit. I feel awfully sticky. My hair’s a mess. Could I just put some water in the basin and wash myself?”

“Oh, all right. You’re sure you can handle it?”

“Just need a little help — a bit dizzy and weak.”

Lorna guided Sidney a few yards away to the bathroom. She placed a chair in front of the sink and helped her patient sit down.

“There now,” Lorna said as she filled the basin with warm water. The medical assistant’s manner was curt and brisk but with a touch of softness. “Here’s the soap, towels, and cloths. Toothpaste and toothbrush too. I’ll get you fresh pajamas.” She waved her finger at Sidney. “For God’s sake, call the second you think you need help. Got it?”

“Yes, thanks Lorna. I won’t be — ”

Lorna dashed out of the room before Sidney could finish. The door was shut and Sidney found the privacy a luxury. She took off her pajamas and began to wash. In a few minutes, the door opened slightly, and Lorna’s arm appeared as she hung fresh pajamas on a hook on the wall near the door.

Sidney considered the possibility of escape. If her body had a little more rest and food, perhaps there’d be a chance to get off the boat while it was still anchored, she thought. But she didn’t know how much time she’d have before the ship headed out to sea again.

“The sooner, the better,” she whispered to herself.

There was just one problem. She wasn’t going anywhere while attached to the urinary bag. Her years of volunteering in a palliative care ward in Canada gave her all the knowledge she needed to get rid of the nuisance. All she needed was a syringe. There were no supplies in the bathroom. She was almost desperate enough to give the catheter a good yank. She tugged on it a little. It was firmly in place, and the small balloon inside her bladder didn’t give. She noticed the disposal unit on the floor.

Carefully, she felt around the container’s contents finding mostly used papers and medical supply containers. Success! There it was — a used syringe at the bottom of the can.

“God bless wonderful people who don’t follow all the rules all the time,” she whispered.

It was easy to hook the syringe to the catheter’s small airline and deflate the balloon. The catheter slipped out easily. She folded the tubing and bag into a small roll and concealed it in the disposal unit.

Just one more good meal and off I go! Tonight, if not sooner.

She planned to find out where the ship was and figure out what direction and how far away her home was. She remembered Seamus saying there were those who were waiting for her. Were they waiting nearby for her to get off the ship, she wondered.

Sidney washed, combed her hair, and put on the clean pajamas. Opening the bathroom door, she peered into the infirmary and saw Lorna waiting for her. She wondered how long it would take for the woman to notice the bag was no longer attached. Perhaps she’d forget about it if Sidney kept her busy with chatter.

It worked. Sidney went on and on about how great she felt. When she and Lorna arrived at her bedside, a pot of tea, two slices of toast, and some cheese were waiting for her.

“Wow, Lorna. This is for me? You’re so thoughtful!”

“Hey, don’t look at me. Lieutenant John had this delivered. Better finish it before it gets cold again.”

Lorna helped Sidney sit down in a chair and moved toward the door. She took two steps and stopped. “Wait a minute!” She turned on her heel. “Where the hell is the damn bag?”

Sidney put her hand up to her mouth to stop a grin, but the smile worked its way through her fingers anyway. “Where’s what damn bag, Lorna?” she asked, trying to look innocent.

Lorna’s hands were on her hips. When she spoke again, her voice was raised a few decibels. “The damn urinary bag, for Christ’s sake. What did you do with it?”

“Um, tucked it inside my pajamas?” She winked at Lorna.

“Yeah? Right! You just stay there while I go get it. If you’re lucky, Doc won’t make me put the old one back in. Damn it all, anyway,” she muttered as she stormed out of Sidney’s room, continuing to curse all the way to the bathroom. Sidney heard Lorna tossing garbage out of the disposal. “Ah hah! You thought you could pull a fast one on old Lorna, didn’t you?”

When she returned with the tubing and bag, she flung it onto Sidney’s bed. “We’ll see what Doc has to say about this, missy! Captain Waterhouse ain’t going to be pleased either.” She waggled her finger at Sidney. “You just sit there and don’t try anything more. Understand?”

Sidney decided to face Lorna on equal terms. Grabbing the remains of the offending tubes and bag with her fingertips, Sidney threw them into the garbage container beside her bed.

“Sorry, Lorna. I just couldn’t stand that thing anymore. Feels like a damn lump sitting inside my bladder. I know how to remove them, and voilá, the damn thing fell out. Bloody pain in the ass, if you ask me. At least you don’t have to keep measuring my output anymore. Right?”

Lorna and Sidney stood toe to toe, each measuring the other’s strength.

Lorna shook her head. “You got balls, girl. Got to admit that. Now, you better hope Doc is okay with this.” Walking away, she murmured, “God, wait till Sam hears. He’s probably got some rule about this too. We’re both in trouble. You know that? You cause me any more grief and I’ll sit on you!”

Sidney laughed. “Can’t be good all the time, Lorna. What’s the point if a gal can’t make at least one man’s day just a tad more complicated than he’d like it?”

Lorna thought for a moment. “You got a point, missy.”

Just then, Sam appeared at the doorway. The sweat on his brow and smudges on his shirt indicated he’d been working hard.

“Looks like you two are having an intense conversation. May I join you?” he asked.

“Of course, Captain,” said Lorna. “We were discussing the ramifications of someone undoing my work.”

Sidney stood up, bracing herself against the side of the bed. The sudden appearance of Captain Waterhouse shook her. Though she’d seen him before, her mind had been in a fog. Now, she saw not only the man, but sensed his power. When his staff acknowledged him with a brisk salute, she couldn’t help but notice it was performed with respect. She sensed they would willingly put their lives on the line without a moment’s hesitation if he so commanded. It took her breath away.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Problems, Lorna?”

“Well, no harm done. Sidney took the initiative and removed her catheter.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “I see. Isn’t that painful?”

“Not if you know what you’re doing,” Lorna explained.

“Interesting.” He paused, studying Sidney’s expression. “If you’re finished with your discussion, Lorna, I’d like to have a word with the prisoner.”

Lorna left.

“It would appear you know more about medical procedures than the average person. Is that correct?” Sam asked.

“I worked as a volunteer in a palliative care ward for a while, Captain. I saw things most people don’t. Wasn’t trained, just watched a lot of procedures.”

“Right. So you know the importance of procedures being properly carried out by the right people. Rules are there for a reason.”

Her back straightened, and she lifted her chin higher. “Not necessarily, sir. Rules are made mostly for machines or those who can’t be trusted to make decisions using sound judgment for the good of all. I live by only guidelines.”

“Well, the rules here on my ship are not simply guidelines. And, they’re not just for machines. I expect everyone, including prisoners, to follow procedure.” Sam’s voice was almost harsh.

He never broke eye contact with her for a second, yet he never made any threatening gestures either. He didn’t need to. His authority remained steadfast. And she never shied away from his domineering stance in front of her, though his broad shoulders reached the level of her chin.

“Well, Captain Waterhouse, you’re right about some rules. I do have one.”

“Yes?” he retorted.