Karen got back just as she felt the tension rising to a ridiculously high degree. Her body was tingling and every cell was shouting at her to get back into the fucking right place!
The calling had never been this strong. She wondered what would happen if she somehow found the courage to ignore the un-ignorable and stay where she was, out of time, out of place. She’d never been able to resist the calling, though; and if she’d been unable to do it while knowing that Bobby Jersey was following her, she surely never would.
He knows where I work.
The thought was followed by: He can find where I live anytime he wants to. The hospital had records that would be easy for him to find if he chose to.
But then, why would he bother? He already knew where to find her. The next time that he was free and she was frozen, he could come over and do whatever he wanted.
Bobby was evil. She knew that. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name, and although his smile said otherwise, in her heart she knew that he’d happily do whatever happened to cross his mind. She’d seen that side of him and she was frightened of it.
“Go see Mrs. Jenkins.”
Karen snapped out of her thoughts and realized that her supervisor, Maggie Kincaid, had had to repeat her request.
“Sorry, Maggie. I’m on my way.” She smiled and hurried down the hall to Room 217.
Mrs. Jenkins had only been admitted for a few days and was already close to death. Karen felt anger whenever she visited, because Mrs. Jenkins was thirty-two, much too young to be dying. Her husband visited her every morning and every night, and when Karen saw him, she saw confusion, fear, and anger on his face. She understood because she felt the same way. No fair God should ever allow some disease Karen had never heard of to take away such a young woman.
“Hello,” she whispered. She took the patient’s hand. The patient, she reminded herself. Not “Mrs. Jenkins.” Dehumanize them as much as possible. That was part of her training.
Every day when Karen left work, she felt lonely and frustrated.
But she felt an amazing sense of tranquility by the time she got home. Every day she made somebody’s life just a tiny bit better than it would otherwise be.
She wanted to work at the Mayberry Care Center for the rest of her life.
“Thank you,” said the frail woman. She tried to squeeze Karen’s hand but could only manage a tiny pressure. Tubes ran from her nose and arms. There were others beneath the covers.
“Would you like me to read to you?”
Mrs. Jenkins shook her head, a gesture Karen barely noticed. “Just … .”
Karen waited for her to finish the sentence, but the woman couldn’t get the words out. Her lips moved but no sound emerged.
“What did you say?”
Karen leaned close.
“Just kill me.”
Karen pulled back in shock.
“Please,” whispered the woman. “It hurts so much.”
“I can’t.”
Mrs. Jenkins stared at her, her mouth clawing in bits of air. Her eyes were like accusing spikes.
“Please let me read to you. Last time we started a Danielle Steel novel. Should we continue?”
The woman just stared at her. “Please,” she whispered one more time.
Karen picked up the paperback novel and flipped it open to Chapter Four, where she’d left off the day before and she started to read.
* * *
Forty-eight hours later, Mrs. Olivia Jenkins was dead. In those last two days, she suffered immensely. She couldn’t catch her breath and felt as if she was breathing through a straw. Her guts were full of shiny glass fragments that churned and ripped her insides, her brain assaulted by lightning bolts. Even the morphine drip did little to dull the eternal pain.
Karen wanted to help her, but there was nothing she could do. She had little control over the medication the patients were given. After all, Mrs. Jenkins wouldn’t be at the clinic if she weren’t a terminal case waiting for death.
That didn’t make Karen feel better. All of a sudden she realized that many of her patients wanted her help, to ease them away from the horrible last days ahead of them into a peaceful sleep. Most didn’t ask with their mouth—they asked with their eyes. She now knew the meaning of the wide-eyed stare that greeted her so often. Until now she’d thought it was fear, which made total sense to her; but now she realized it was also a plea for help.
* * *
One night when she was twenty-one, she lay in bed with Bonnie, both of them naked. Karen needed to hold her tightly, wanting to feel the love of her girlfriend, hoping the feelings they shared would help remove the memories of her day job.
She kissed Bonnie passionately and rubbed her back from the shoulders down to her ass. The two girls pressed their bodies together, and Karen felt herself getting wet, the memories of the waiting dead finally falling from her mind.
Suddenly, her arm was wrenched down to her side with a sudden jerk, and she was slammed onto her back as if an invisible giant plucked her off Bonnie and tossed her like an old Barbie doll. It happened without warning and both girls were stunned.
“What happened?” asked Bonnie. Her voice was full of confusion. “I thought you were enjoying it.”
“I was. I didn’t pull away. My body just slammed down.”
“That’s impossible.”
Karen realized what happened. She felt her belly and found a sticky spot.
Fucking Bobby Jersey. Ohmygod, he was here.
She knew without even having to consciously work it out. Time had frozen for Bobby, and he used his secret time to come to her. He’d found her making love with Bonnie, pushed her aside, probably fondled both of them, and masturbated on her.
Fucking pervert.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Bonnie.”
“But what happened?”
“I—I’m not sure how to explain.”
“It’s okay. I’m here for you. You can tell me anything. You know that.”
“Yes. I do.”
And she did. She told her everything about being able to move when everybody else was stuck in time. She told her about Bobby and about her dad and her sister’s loser boyfriend. She told her about all the buried secrets she’d found over the years, and she pulled out her Secrets Journal to help convince Bonnie what she’d seen.
The only thing she didn’t tell her was the time when Karen had spied on Bonnie herself.
It took two hours to get her story out, and during that time Bonnie barely talked. She nodded occasionally and let the story unfold. As Karen revealed more details, she was convinced that Bonnie thought she was a freaking nut case. By the end of the story, she was sure she’d ruined the only true love she’d ever felt.
When she finally stopped talking, though, Bonnie smiled and just said, “I love you. I want to hear everything from this point forward. No more secrets between us. Pinkie swear?”
Karen grinned and held out her smallest finger to connect with Bonnie’s.
* * *
Thirteen days passed before time stopped again for Karen. In that time, three of her patients had died, and she’d had no further visits from Bobby.
She had planned her time-freeze this time. It was the middle of the night. She snapped awake and saw Bonnie curled up beside her, like a cute little snail.
Karen was wearing pajamas and didn’t bother changing. Nobody would see her. She went to the kitchen and picked out a sharp carving knife.
It had taken very little effort to find out where Bobby lived. Unlike her, he was outgoing and wanted everybody to know everything about him on Facebook, Twitter, and a few other sites. Once Karen decided to track him down, she had his address within a few hours.
He lived in the basement of an apartment owned by his mom. She broke a window, not caring if there was an alarm system. If there was, she’d be long gone before the first ring of the claxon.
He was sleeping naked (no surprise to her). Karen pulled the covers off him and used the knife to slice a very thin line on his belly, the same place he had defiled her with his semen.
She’d already written a note that she left propped beside him: Leave me alone, you fucking creep. If I ever see you again, I’m going to cut your cock off. You know I’ll have no qualms about doing it.
She left and walked to the Mayberry Care Center. The building was mostly dark so the patients could sleep, but there were still a half-dozen employees keeping track of things.
Carlene Jameson was in room 173. She was an old woman, close to eighty, who’d been waiting to die for more than two weeks. Like most of the others, she was in pain every minute of every day and just wanted it to be over.
Karen walked in to the drug room and filled a hypodermic with morphine. She took it to Carlene Jameson’s room and inserted it into her IV, depositing the deadly dose so it would bring the rest that the old woman desperately wanted. She’d begged Karen for help several times, and Karen no longer feared helping. She’d just needed to have time stop so she could take care of things without being caught. She’d never be allowed in the drug room normally without authorization. This way, she could help Carlene and leave no indication she had even been in the same building.
“Good-bye,” she whispered. She kissed the old woman on the forehead and then took her time as she left the building. She walked around downtown until she felt the calling and smiled as she went back home to sleep with Bonnie.