Who is Mackie Spence? (21 page)

Mackie has a room to herself. Her skin color looks healthy again, and she seems comfortable, even with an IV hooked into her arm and an oxygen monitor clipped to her finger. Her dad motions for me to sit in a chair on the other side of the bed, and the two of us watch her.

“Any change?” I ask.

“None. Doesn't mean anything, though. Mac's a little peach pit. She's tough. Four months ago she came out of a coma after a week and was just fine. Jeremy, I'll never in my life be able to thank you enough for going over to Brody's house. She'd be gone. What happened between those two?”

“I don't know. Brody was passed out, so I couldn't ask him anything. He was cut up pretty bad, but it didn't look like something Mackie could have done. Did you get her phone back from the police?”

“No. They're keeping it for evidence. I have my doubts about how much we'll find out through them. You sure gave your daddy a start when you called. He'd been thinking you were asleep in your bed.” Nick grins at me.

“Yeah, well, Jilly called and told me that she took Mackie's phone at Kyle's party. Brody took it from her. It didn't sound like Jilly knew Mackie was missing,” I explain.

“It wasn't a kindly thing to have done, but this isn't Jilly's fault. Brody's always seemed one shot shy of a full load. Never understood what Mackie saw in him. He's good looking, don't get me wrong there, but he's just so one-dimensional. I was glad when she asked you to the dance. And I sure am happy to be sitting across from you now.”

For a few minutes we watch Mackie and listen to the gentle beeping of her vital signs monitor.

I break the silence. “How long do the doctors think she was in the water?”

“That's the odd thing, Bud. Said they had contradictory evidence. Her core temperature was pretty good and so were her vitals, but her skin looked and felt like she'd been in the water for hours. Hours.” He shakes his head. “By most counts, she'd be long gone.”

“The last time, when she was in the water this summer, did it seem like it was the same?” I pose the question carefully, not wanting to stir up bad memories of their boat capsizing.

“Uh-huh. Very similar. That's why I have so much hope right now. Look at her. She looks good. No damage to anything, not really.”

I have one more burning question. “How did she come out of the coma this summer?”

“There's a question you, me, and every doctor would like an answer to. She just woke up one day and could talk and move around almost like it never happened. Other than not remembering the accident, she seemed fine.”

That's what I desperately want. For Mackie to come out of the coma like nothing bad has happened. For her to be just fine.

“Ah, the nurse said since this isn't visiting time, I should only stay a few minutes. Guess I'd better be going.”

I lay my hand on a part of Mackie's arm that doesn't have needles or tubes. I pat her and silently beg her to wake up. Nick watches and nods.

“You come back, Bud. You're good for her,” he says, and there is no doubt in my mind that I've just been given the highest parental stamp of approval that I could ever hope to attain. I only wish Mackie was awake to hear it.

Sunday morning. I sit at the kitchen table with Mom and call Olivia to explain why I won't be in for my afternoon shift at the shelter. She tells me not to worry. She's glad nothing happened to me, and she'll pray for Mackie. I don't argue, but figure that good medicine and rest, not prayer, are what Mackie needs.

My phone doesn't stop ringing. All of our friends want to hear how Mackie is and what happened. Jen tells me that our principal posted a missing child report on the school website after Mr. Spence called him yesterday afternoon. Since then, Mackie's picture has been on all of the social media message boards that parents and kids use. Mackie grew up on the island, so it was scary for everyone to read that she went missing.

Then a call comes through on my mom's phone. Mom hands it to me, saying it's Brody's mother.

“Jeremy, this is Natalie Cameron. Brody's father and I want to thank you. We're waiting for a flight back to Seattle, but I want you to hear this now, from us. We appreciate everything you did. I'm sure Brody will want to thank you when he can.”

“Is Brody better?” I ask.

“The doctors tell us he's stable, but he will be in the hospital for a while.”

So he came through blacking out from the gin okay. She tells me the police will take his statement at the hospital, and then we say goodbye.
Lucky Brody.
How much does he remember about the eagle? I'd like to be in the room when he explains that one to Officers Dade and Kale.

Early in the afternoon, Wes borrows his parents' SUV and drives Jen, Jon, Erica, and me to the hospital. Just like during the summer when she nearly drowned, it seems weird for us to be together without Mackie.

Wes and I are the first to walk into Mackie's room. His eyes bug out when he sees the tubes hooked into her arms and fingers.

“Oh man, will she get through this?” he whispers to me.

“I think so. She did it once before.” If Mackie doesn't come out of the coma, well, I'm not letting myself go there. “I looked ‘coma' up. She can hear us, but won't be able to talk or do anything,” I say, as we approach her bed.

“Hey, Mackie. We need you to come back from wherever you are. Without you, it's just Ty and me who will have to keep young Jeremy out of trouble. You know how good we are at that.” Wes laughs.

I can always count on Wes for humor.

Wes continues. “So, Mackie, you know, you're our alpha survivor. Remember when our tree fort collapsed? You walked away without a scratch. And when Diggy Howard let go of his tennis racket, and it hit your head? Not even a bruise. This coma thing should be nothing for you. And hey, you might miss my latest dance bust-out at Jen's. I know that will be a real disappointment for you, so you'd better come home. Like right now.”

I chuckle.

I hold Mackie's hand. There isn't any response, but I want her to know how much I miss her. It's the kind of scene that I would have dismissed as sappy in a movie. That was before seeing her lying in a hospital bed. Now the feelings are so real that it hurts in my bones.

When Wes and I return to the lobby, Jennifer goes up next, by herself, which is fine because Jen has so much energy that she could suck the air out of a room. But not in a bad way. She just has a really big personality. And Jen will focus on Mackie, not all the medical equipment. What most people find uncomfortable is no problem for Jen.

After Jen returns, it's Jon and Erica's turn to go up. They don't stay long and rejoin us surprisingly fast.

“Mackie's doctor came in to check on her. Did Mackie move or do anything when you guys were in her room?” Erica asks.

We shake our heads no.

On the way back to the ferry dock, Jen suggests we stop for something to eat. It sounds good because my appetite has returned. It's like I haven't been able to replace the energy I lost in the cold water fast enough. At least my muscles feel better. Wes tells us it's his treat, and then everyone raises their glass in a salute to me for saving Mackie. I look down in embarrassment. Did I save her, really? She isn't all right.

At home, Mom and Dad talk about how well Justin handled things when they took the ferry to the hospital. He stayed at the Spences' with Noelle so neither of them would be alone that night. Justin woke, climbed in the car, and then fell asleep immediately on the Spences' couch with Noelle on the facing sofa. It's good to have friends.

At home after visiting Mackie, I think about the eagle and the otters. They were there for her. Why? How? What is the connection she has with them?

But these questions don't really matter. What matters is that I need to be with her. That's all I want now. Not to analyze, know, or understand. Just to be with her.

Now, as I crawl into bed at eight o'clock, a full hour and a half earlier than usual, I feel a slight tugging at my skin like something tweaking me, but sleep rolls in like thick fog. I'm gone until my alarm goes off at six thirty.

Monday morning, Ben sizes me up with eyes more serious than usual when I climb in his car to ride to school.

“Is it true what I heard about Brody and Mackie?” he asks.

“Depends what you heard,” I reply.

“That Brody was cut up bad, and Mackie's in a coma at Harborview. You found them and called it in.”

“Yeah, that's true,” I say, watching his face while he drives.

“Well, someone ought to pin a medal on you. Mackie didn't deserve to go through another drowning. Brody, well, life has a way of making a circle.”

This is a profound statement for Ben in the morning.

“Yeah, she's still in a coma. Brody, ah, I talked with his mother a little yesterday and he's awake. I'm guessing they have him loaded up on pain meds.”

“Oh yeah. I bet he's lovin' that,” Ben says.

I'm the object of way too much attention at school today. Everyone wants to ask about Mackie, a few about Brody, and people stare at me wherever I am. It's all too much. I want to go back to being part of the background.

Jen sits with me at lunch and fields most of the questions. At one point even she gets peeved with all the chatter. She throws me a look that begs, ‘What next?'

Wes and Ty act goofy like always, and joke about my many newly acquired best friends. At least I can laugh with them about something.

At practice, Coach treats me as if nothing unusual has happened. He reminds me to ease up on the first fifteen minutes of my practice run and push the last five. He mentions Brody indirectly, noting the likelihood that one of our JV runners will move up to run varsity for our next meet.

But in the locker room, the guys have questions.

“Jeremy,” Cole calls out. “Word is that you had it out with Brody because of Mackie.”

I give him my best you-are-a-dickhead stare.

“Word is wrong. And for the record, Brody would be still sitting on his boat, rotting, if I hadn't gone to his house to find Mackie's phone that he took. So maybe Word should start making corrections about what you just said.” I pull my towel out to take a shower. Cole is full of it.

He gives me a shrug.

“That's real nice, Cole,” I hear Ben growl as Cole moves past us.

Oh crap, this needs to stop.

“Okay, I have something to say,” I announce, loudly.

It gets quiet. Fast.

“I didn't and don't have it out for Brody. I just happened to be the one who found him and called emergency. I don't know what went down for either Brody or Mackie because neither of them could talk when I found them. Sorry that it's not more juicy, but that's it.”

I head to the showers. No one bothers me there.

As I leave the gym, Coach waves me over.

“Mr. Tarleton, you might be wondering whether I reported that little fight you and Mr. Cameron had last week. I did not. Do not make me regret my decision,” he says, holding my eyes with an unblinking gaze.

“No problem, Coach,” I say, feeling relief.

He nods and says, “There's a saying for what just happened back there, in the locker room. ‘No good deed goes unpunished.'”

Coach has that right.

After practice, I ride home with Ben. At dinner, it feels good to sit and listen to Mom and Dad talk about their upcoming week. Mom has spoken with Mackie's mom, who reports no change in Mackie. But in another conversation, Natalie Cameron told Mom that Brody would be sent home soon.

Brody is fine, but Mackie is still in a coma. Of course.

I find it hard not being with Mackie. Other than feeling kind of depressed, the weird thing with my skin continues. The tugging sensation happens more often now. It comes and goes at odd times of the day. Maybe it has something to do with my cold water swim.

By Wednesday, things settle down at school. I can go to class and eat lunch without someone wanting to discuss Mackie or Brody. The rumor that I'm responsible for Brody's injuries has died. At least no one brings it up to me again.

As for Brody, I don't expect to hear from him. Having seen the severity of his wounds I doubt he'll do much of anything for a while. My focus stays on Mackie. I have no sympathy for Brody.

Mackie.
How did she end up in the water?
Other than having hypothermia from being so cold, she has no injuries, no marks that I could see when I pulled her out. That is so different from Brody.

Also, there was the expression on her face when she lay on the boat deck. She'd looked fine, like nothing was wrong, nothing to worry about. None of it adds up.

Friday after school, Wes and Ty attend our home meet set to start at four thirty. All of our school's home meets begin late-afternoon because it takes time for our opponents to reach the island by ferry.

I feel kind of pukey in the locker room before the run, and manage to pull it together when I see Ryan in his pre-race routine, with his earbuds in place, staring into space. This part of my life hasn't changed. It comforts me to see Cole speed-talking as usual, Ethan looking like he might upchuck at any moment, Ben meditating on his feet, and Coach looking like he wants to suit up and run the course himself.

Coach brings us together before the start.

“All right, gentlemen, you have an excellent opportunity to better your times today. We have a light wind out of the south, the temperature is warm enough to run in your T-shirts, and it's dry.

“You have the advantage. You know the ins and outs of this race better than any other guys running on our course today. Stick to your plan. Remember what we talked about on Monday, and how you're going to run. Visualize and make it happen. Now, I want everyone in the box on time and ready for the start. Let's get it!”

We do our team clap and jog, to warm up. My mind lets go of everything else, and I concentrate on how I want to start out slower than usual and pick it up in the middle of the race. That's what Coach has had me working on for the last week and a half. Then I'll kick it at the end.