The Phantom Limb (15 page)

“Is that the same acid you were afraid to touch when you were preparing it last night?” Isaac said.

Candi was so startled that she dropped the forceps. The gauze landed on her leg. Even though she was wearing blue scrub pants, the liquid seeped right through the cloth, straight to her leg. She yelped in pain.

“Excuse me,” a woman's voice said coldly. Someone squeezed past Isaac into the room. “What's the matter here? What are you doing?”

“That boy! He's always sneaking around. He … he …”

It was Dr. Ciano. “What could he have done?” she wanted to know. “He's standing in the doorway. You're right next to the bed. Nurse, why is this room so dark? Why is this patient unconscious—again? What's going on?”

Candi was speechless.

The doctor switched on the light.

Isaac could hardly believe it—it
wasn't
Dr. Ciano, after all. It was Candi!

Candi
… Isaac felt a powerful wave of relief sweep over him. Now he knew who had been hurting Vera, and finally he'd caught her in the act! But he was also worried. Would Dr. Ciano know what was going on and do something to stop it?

“Well?” Dr. Ciano said. “What are you doing with that gauze and those forceps? This patient only had an easily treatable seizure disorder when she came in. She should have been out of here long ago. Patients are waiting for beds. And you keep insisting she can't have another roommate, either. Why is that?”

Isaac's heart lifted.

They both looked at Isaac. Then Dr. Ciano turned back to Candi.

Isaac spoke. “There's acid on that gauze,” he dared to say.

“That's a lie! It was just alcohol—see?” Candi held up a bottle. She had somehow managed to switch the bottle of acid with a bottle of plain rubbing alcohol. But she was still on the spot. “Well … I mean … I'm just concerned about—”

“What
I'm
concerned about is this patient's well-being,” Dr. Ciano interrupted. “I've wondered about
you before, Ms. Sharpe, even though you've been here for only a short time. What's going on? Why isn't Mrs. Verdi getting any better?”

“Yes, why isn't she?” a male voice said. Grandpa stepped into the room, looking more distinguished than he had in a long, long time.

Candi just stood there, almost crouching, her eyes moving from side to side.

Grandpa walked over to Dr. Ciano and held out his hand. “Bill Costa, Professor Emeritus of Physiology at Washington University Medical School. Vera is my daughter. And we're very worried about her. We don't understand what's happening.”

The doctor shook Grandpa's hand, obviously impressed. “Bella Ciano, Neurology. Pleased to meet you. We're puzzled too. Let's take a good look at her. I really don't understand why she's unconscious all the time. And what's happening with her arm? Her diagnosis says osteosarcoma, but there were no symptoms of that when she was admitted. The notes over the weekend indicated that her arm was healing; now its condition is deteriorating again. Her son just said Nurse Sharpe was putting acid on it, but she's denied that. I wish your daughter wasn't
unconscious every time I come to see her. It's very strange indeed.”

Grandpa didn't say anything; clearly, he knew it would be better to let the doctor figure it out herself—as long as she did before it was too late.

Isaac went over to Vera's bedside with Grandpa and Dr. Ciano. Candi backed away. She must have been worried about what they were going to find—the doctor had seen her with the acid-soaked gauze and the forceps. She could have gone off and tended to another patient, but there was no way she'd leave now. She wanted to be there to try to explain how nothing wrong was happening.

Finally, it was all working out! Dr. Ciano would be able to make things right again. Isaac could hardly believe it.

Then, at the worst possible time, Dr. Ciano's beeper went off.

“Damn!” she muttered to herself. She pulled the beeper out of her pocket. Then she sighed and put it back. “Code 01-05. They need me stat for emergency brain surgery,” she explained to Isaac's grandfather. “I'll be back as soon as I can—but sometimes these things go on for hours.” She hurried out the door.

No sooner was she gone than Candi stepped forward. She didn't even pretend not to be furious. She was desperate now—the doctor's suspicions had been aroused. “Get out, both of you! You're interfering here!” She said it softly but quickly. Like a cornered rat, she had to act fast. “If you want your mother—and your daughter—to get any better, stay out of it. You're not medical professionals. I am.” She focused on Isaac. “Haven't you gotten the message
yet
?”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Grandpa replied coolly. “I will call security if I have to. You heard Dr. Ciano's orders. You're not to be anywhere near my daughter.” He sat down firmly in the chair next to Vera's bed. “Isaac, I can take care of things here. Go home and catch up on your homework. Come back later.”

At the nurses' station Isaac whispered to Vicky, “How long has Candi been here, and where did she come from?”

“Dr. Ciano just asked me the same question as she was leaving—I get the feeling she thinks there's something strange about her. Candi was hired to be in charge of this unit at the end of the summer,” Vicky said in a low voice, as though she were telling him something she didn't want anybody else to hear. “She came from County Hospital.”

Bingo!
Isaac thought.

He rushed home and immediately took out the mirror box and put in his hands. At this point he knew what would happen. He felt sleepy, and waited for the phantom limb to show him another scene.

He was looking out of a different mirror this time. Not into a bathroom but into a hospital room. This room was entirely unlike Vera's; it had a different configuration of furniture and a different type of window. There was a mirror over the sink. The face was no longer blurred. It was Candi, looking just the way she did now. She was washing her hands and saying something, but not to herself. She seemed to be addressing a dim figure in the bed behind her. The room was so dark that Isaac could barely see that there was someone there.

“Amputation is not as bad as people think,” Candi said, smiling to herself. The figure in the bed didn't seem to be able to see the smile. Candi dried her hands on a paper towel and tossed it into the trash. Her smile faded as she turned toward the bed. “I mean, God gave us two of so many of our organs—two kidneys, two ears, two eyes. If we lose one of them, the other one takes over. That's why He did it
that way. So when you lose an arm or a leg, the other one takes over too. It's as simple as that.”

The cracking voice of an adolescent boy came weakly from the bed. “But … what about playing the piano? How … how can you play the piano without two hands? What if it's … the most important thing in your life?”

Candi shook her head, sighed, and clicked her tongue. “Do you always have to be so negative?” she asked the boy. “There's piano music written for the left hand only. I'll find you some. Because I care.”

“But … that's not really the same. Do my grandparents know? Did the doctor talk to them about it?”

“Don't worry, Joey. Everything will all work out,” Candi assured him. “Doctors are very busy. That's why I'm here. It's
my
job to concentrate on the patients who are the most important to me. Like you, my dear.” She walked over to the bed, her voice rich with pleasure and warmth. “Your remaining arm will learn to do many things. I've seen other people learn to live with one arm. You'll do better than they did. I know it. Did you know that it takes nineteen muscles to move your hand and wrist? And here's something
that will make you feel more comfortable and stop you from worrying all the time.” She picked up a large syringe from a tray.

Isaac shook his head and came out of the dream. His hands were still in the mirror box. Now he was even more worried about Candi.

Especially when the phantom limb ripped up another smiley face, more fiercely than the first time.

 

SAAC RETURNED TO THE HOSPITAL LATE that afternoon. He had to force himself to walk down the hallway past the elevators to the door to the intensive care unit, step by step. He was afraid of what might happen next, and he told himself to stay alert, to keep looking behind him all the time so he wouldn't have to endure more torture.

The twins were again sitting at the door, checking IDs—the easiest job in the hospital. Destiny checked Isaac's without acknowledging him. DCynthia sighed.

When Isaac got to his mother's room, Grandpa told him that he wanted to find Dr. Ciano. He couldn't ask Candi, of course, wherever she was.

While Grandpa was gone, Isaac sat with Vera, who was sleeping.

Vicky came in to check Vera's IV. She was coming in more frequently now to check on her. Isaac asked if Candi had left. She nodded, opened her mouth to say something, then stopped herself. Isaac wanted to ask her what she was going to say, but he didn't want to be pushy.

Grandpa came back soon. “Dr. Ciano's still in emergency surgery. And they wouldn't give me her beeper number. They told me the only person I could talk to was an intern. But …” He looked confused for a moment. “But the interns are no help—they're all exhausted and falling asleep. They're too tired most of the time to notice what anybody is doing. We'll just have to wait for Dr. Ciano to come back.”

Isaac had an idea. “I'm going to talk to those twins from my school that I told you about,” he said. “They're the candy stripers checking IDs.”

“I'll stay here. I don't want to leave Vera alone,” Grandpa said.

That was fine with Isaac. He wasn't sure how the conversation with the twins would go, but he wanted to do it on his own.

The twins were still sitting at their table. They looked bored.

“Hi,” Isaac said.

They looked at him without interest. Then Destiny said, “Here visiting your mommy, twig? Is your grandfather going to stay in the other bed?”

Destiny was so vicious and heartless that it seemed impossible that he could ever get her on his side. But he had to try, because of what he had in mind now—and because he had been successful in getting DCynthia to help him once.

“Candi left for the day, I hear,” Isaac said.

Destiny shrugged. “So what?”

He had been hoping they'd volunteer something useful about Candi, but they weren't taking the bait. He'd have to steer the conversation in that direction himself.

“You know, Candi says she's interested in your father. She was really impressed one day when he came to pick you up and she saw his expensive car,” Isaac said, making it up.

“That's ridiculous,” DCynthia said. “Our father could never like
her
. He already has a girlfriend who's young and hot. We used to hate her, but compared
to Candi, she's cool. If Dad ever dated Candi, we'd make their lives a living hell.”

It wasn't much, but at least they were starting to open up. Isaac still wasn't sure he could trust them. He decided not to tell them what Candi was doing to Vera right away but instead start at the beginning. “I used to know a kid named Joey,” he said. “He went to my old school.” That wasn't true either.

“So what?” Destiny said.

“So, he went to another hospital for some little procedure, and Candi was working there—under a different name. She seems to move around a lot. She took care of Joey. He was an amazing piano player—a prodigy, really.”

“What's a ‘prodigy'?” DCynthia asked him.

“It's one of those show-off words he's always using,” Destiny said.

Isaac ignored her. “It's a kid who can play so well that he could give concerts and stuff. But anyway … Candi made sure he had his arm cut off.”

“Gross!” Destiny said. But she was intrigued. “Tell us more.”

“Joey lived with his grandparents, and they were too old or sick or whatever to even come to the
hospital, so the doctor and Candi were in control. They said he had bone cancer, but I don't believe it. So they cut off his arm. But he got an infection in the hospital and died.”