“I'd like to see you try that little trick, Dennis,” Sadie muttered. “I'm up for anything that will speed things along. Are you sure those doctors are the best of the best?”
“They're Matt's own doctors. They won't give away his identity.”
“Listen, Dennis, I don't care about that identity thing. Right now all I want to see is some improvement in Matt's condition. I don't give a hoot about Digitech stock. See if you can get the doctor on the phone. I'm game for bringing Gracie here if he gives the okay. Five days is an eternity. He hasn't said one lucid word in all that time. He's in, and he's out. Something's wrong. I feel it. As much as I would like Gracie to be the answer, I know she isn't it.” In a frenzy of impatience, Lily yanked at the Wish Keeper around her neck. For one wild moment she thought her head was going to spin off her neck. She heard Sadie and Dennis arguing as visions flashed behind her eyelids. The little boy was so sturdy and young. Way too young to be covered in blood. Everyone dressed in white scurrying around, their tasks left unfinished as they tried to staunch the flow of blood. So many pills. So many colors. Medicine cabinet vials, bottles, syringes. Too much blood. Someone screaming. Fill the bottles, lock the cabinet. Write everything down. What's his blood type? Where's the mother and father? We need to know. Stat!
“Lily, what's wrong? Is it happening again? She's not coming out of it, Dennis! Do something! Lily, come on, this is me, Sadie. Listen to me, open your eyes. We're in the hospital. Matt's here. Matt needs you. Lily,” she said, shaking her violently by the shoulders.
“People are staring,” Dennis hissed.
“Who cares. Lily. Ah, good girl. It's over. Lily, talk to me.”
“How . . . how long . . .”
“A minute, two, possibly three. I wasn't watching you at first. What did you see?” Sadie whispered.
“A lot of blood. A little boy. They didn't know what his blood type was, and they couldn't find the parents. The medicine cabinet. All kinds of pills and stuff. They keep it locked. There were pills all over the place. You have to write it all down. What does it mean? I have no idea? I had one when we were tracking Matt, but it wasn't a real one. It was old, like a long time ago. There was a little girl in that one. She was so sad. Dennis, go down to Admitting and see if a little boy was brought in here around the time Matt was admitted. Usually they won't tell you stuff like that, so sweet-talk them. See if you can find out where the locked medicines are. Are there medicine cabinets on every floor? Maybe Matt is getting the wrong medications. There were pills everywhere, as though they had spilled. All colors. It's probably nothing. It seemed so real, though. God, this thing is a curse. The first thing I'm going to do when I get to the new house is to put this Wish Keeper back in the closet where you found it, Sadie. I can't handle this.”
“We'll deal with that later. Let me nose around a little on this floor and see what I can find out. Stay put, Lily. That's an order.”
How hard was that going to be? There was nowhere to go and nothing to do. The only time they could see Matt was for five minutes at the top of each hour.
Please, God, let him get better. He's too young for You to take. Please. Please
, Lily prayed.
It was thirty minutes before Sadie and Dennis returned. Dennis offered up what he had found out.
“There was a little boy brought in the day after Matt. I guess it was all in the newspapers, so it was all right for them to tell me. It was a head-on collision, and the child didn't make it. His parents were pronounced dead at the scene of the accident. That's all I know.”
“There is a locked medicine cabinet on every floor,” Sadie said. “The charge nurse is the only one with a key. I think Dennis should call Matt's doctor since he's still here and have him check the medicines. The nurses won't listen to us. It's worth a try. If you say there were pills all over, it's entirely possible whoever put them back mixed them up or put them in the wrong bottles. Right now anything is better than doing nothing. Don't stand there, Dennis, see if you can get hold of the doctor.”
“Yes, ma'am!” Dennis said smartly.
“I didn't mean that the way it sounded,” Sadie said.
“Yes, you did. It's okay. Sometimes my feet don't move real quick. I'll try to get hold of him.”
“Do you want some coffee, Lily?”
“My kidneys are swimming in coffee. Thanks anyway. I think I counted every flower, every brushstroke on each one of these paintings at least a hundred times. I even know how many stripes there are on the wall that has the wallpaper. I am so worried, Sadie.”
“I know, Lily. Think positive. You count things. I've been thinking these past five days trying to remember things about the old house, my mother and why we didn't come here after that one last summer. I remember bits and pieces.”
Her interest piqued, Lily asked, “Like what?”
“My mother had this fight with my grandmother. Maybe it wasn't so much a fight as it was a loud discussion. I told you I didn't remember much about coming to Natchez in the summer, but something triggered something. I loved coming here. It was such a wonderful time for me. It was like I was free all of a sudden. I ran barefoot with the kids, we sucked on ripe, sweet watermelon, and had all these wonderful fruits and vegetables. Everything tasted so good back then, and there was so much of it. There was so much love, too. At night we'd play red light, green light and were allowed to stay out till nine o'clock. Then we'd all gather on the porch and drink homemade root beer. That was the best. They were happy times, wonderful times.
“When I think back now I remember how shabby the house was, but it didn't matter. Old things, worn things, have a special magic to them. I remember touching things and thinking someday I wanted things like that. My mother sold everything. Every single thing. What she wasn't able to sell, she threw away or gave away.”
“Did you have a lot of friends here when you were a child? I don't remember you telling me about it when you came back at the end of the summer. All I knew was I missed you and wished I had a place to go to like you did.”
“Lots of kids. There was Pam, Johnny, Mary and Caroline and Peter. The year I was eleven Pam's grandmother died, then her daddy died. We all cried with her on the porch. We really didn't know much about death back then other than the person went away and would never come back. We thought we were so grown-up. We would huddle on the porch trying to figure out why no one in Pam's family told her how ill her grandmother was or what it was that was going to take her away. We found out after the funeral that she had breast cancer. While we didn't know what that was, we all felt Pam should have been told. Johnny and Peter hadn't a clue and kept saying girls just wanted to know
everything
. I suppose it was true.
“During my summer visits I was allowed to have sleepovers. Pam and Caroline and I would always sleep in the room where I found the Wish Keeper. I have to wonder now if I had a conscious memory of my mother throwing it in that closet. Stop and think about it, Lily. Why would I go way back in that closet to see if anything was in there? The whole place had been cleaned out; there wasn't even a scrap of paper. That big old room was just full of little-girl secrets.”
“Sadie, think now. How did Pam's father die?”
“He was on a tractor, and something happened. We all went to the funeral. It was so sad. Pam never came back after that. And then my mother had that fight, and we packed up and left. I never went back either.”
Lily sucked in her breath. “Did Pam have big, dark, sad eyes?”
“Yes. Why?”
Lily described the vision she'd had the night on the trail. “Does that sound like your friend Pam? Did she have a red plaid dress?”
“Yeah, we all had dresses like that. Flour came in sacks with that print, and our parents made us dresses. Sometimes we'd all wear the same one on the same day and we'd laugh and laugh and call ourselves triplets. The boys had shirts made out of the same material, but if they came decked out in them when we were wearing our dresses, they went home to change. All our dresses were made from flour sacks. Two armholes, a neckhole, two pockets, and that was it. I hated it when my grandmother would starch them. Pam was in your vision, huh? What does it mean, Lily?”
“Sadie, I have no clue. You said you girls told secrets in your bedroom. Maybe this was one that took. Maybe she wasn't supposed to go to the place where the accident happened, but she went anyway. I'll probably never know since it was something that happened in the past. I probably just blew the whole thing by telling you. Now, tell me about the fight your mother had with your grandmother.”
Lily leaned back, her gaze sweeping the waiting room. She and Sadie were the only ones waiting in the room. It was pleasant enough with the dark blue chairs and Harlequin design carpet. The magazines were old, tattered, and some of the pages were missing. Those who had waited before had cut out the coupons or articles that interested them. There were too many flowers, the scent almost overpowering. Patients probably left the flowers behind rather than carry them home. In the far corner there were two Tonka trucks and a box of colorful blocks. A temporary home away from home for those who waited for news of a loved one.
“My mother's face was red and splotchy. When she looked like that I could always tell she was mad. You know, really mad, not just upset. My grandmother was crying, and my mother was screaming at first, and then she started to cry, too. She kept saying she didn't want to know the secrets, didn't want to go crazy, and she wanted her last name on her tombstone. I thought that meant she was going to die, and I guess that's why I blocked it out of my mind all these years.
“This all took place in the room I slept in. My grandmother took the pendant off her neck and put it on my mother's neck. She ripped it off and threw it in the back of the closet. She kept saying her daughter, meaning me, would never wear that evil thing because there was not going to be anyone to hand it down to her. Then she packed our bags and we left. I didn't get to say goodbye to any of the kids, and my grandmother went to her room and locked the door. She died the following month. My mother came back for the funeral. I heard her tell my father she sold off everything and closed up the house. When I gave you the Wish Keeper I didn't really know what it was. To me it was just something from the house. Something for you to have to show that other people did live there and, oh, I don't know, make you feel like you belonged to the house. I'm so sorry, Lily. I think you're right. Get rid of it.”
“But, it helped me find Matt. It can't be evil. When Matt is well again, we'll talk about it, and then I'll make a decision. For now, it is what it is. I'm glad you remembered all that. You never did find out anything when you went to the library, did you?”
“No. It's one of those things people in families talk about, but it's kind of sacred if you know what I mean. Everyone knows about it, but the librarian said it was folklore, nothing more. I thought I told you that when I got home that night.”
“Maybe you did, and I wasn't listening. Those first days are a blur to me now.”
“Here comes Dennis with the doctor. I can't wait to hear this.”
He looked just the way a doctor was supposed to look. Tall, immaculate, professional-looking, with a stethoscope around his neck. His coat cloud white. Tinge of gray at the temples, bright gaze, and a gentle smile. They'd met days ago, but if she'd been asked to describe him at that point in time, Lily would have simply said, he looks like a doctor. She waited now, her gaze expectant to see if the doctor would chalk it up to craziness.
“I have the pharmacist checking the medicine cabinet as we speak. And before you can say it, no, I don't think you've lost your mind. Things happen in hospitals. Dennis told me about your. . . vision. I view this as precautionary. We should know something shortly. In the meantime, I'm going to check on Matt. Why don't you all go home or go for some lunch. I have all of your cell-phone numbers. I'll call the minute I know something. Get some fresh air. Hospitals are just riddled with germs,” he grinned. “That's doctor's orders.”
“I think that's a good idea. Come on, ladies, let's take a walk. It's snowing. Just flurries, but flurries are snow. We'll stop somewhere for a sandwich and a cup of hot chocolate. Up and at 'em, ladies.”
There was no point in arguing with Dennis. Lily stood up and suddenly realized how tired she was. She tried to remember when she'd last eaten solid, nourishing food. Her weary brain refused to give her the answer.
Dennis was right, it was snowing lightly. Lily hunkered down inside her warm jacket and followed Dennis and Sadie to a cozy coffee shop that had green-checkered curtains on the windows. It was small inside, with just nine tables and a counter. It was so clean and fragrant, Lily wanted to stay forever.
“I just love the smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon buns,” Sadie said.
“Me, too,” Dennis said. “Growing up, our house always smelled like cinnamon and celery and fresh coffee. My mother always had a pot of coffee going. I don't know where the smells came from because my mother wasn't much of a cook. Matt's mother now, she could cook. I ate there at least five nights a week, not to mention lunches and many, many breakfasts. Matt's house was my second home. He had this great old swing in the backyard. Actually, it was a tire from an eighteen-wheeler. That baby could almost reach the sky when we pushed it. One time Matt decided to jump off in midair and landed in his mother's rosebushes. We picked thorns out of his ass for days.”