Chapter Sixteen

OPEN YOUR EYES! I wished it, prayed it, and pretended I had the kind of mental telepathy that could make it happen. Who the hell would settle for bending spoons if you could use your power to create medical miracles? I had no special powers. Ricky didn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t talk even if he was conscious. His jaws were still wired shut and he was being given fluids through a needle in his arm. A feeding tube down his nose was on the horizon. I bet he wouldn’t be asking for that recipe once he was well. If he got well.

Most of his fingers were broken so he couldn’t write a note. He was a human still life—something to sketch if the artist found distorted features and wasting muscle and flesh captivating. Drawing him made me think of Charity again and a new wave of sadness and regret washed over me.

I read to him from People magazine because I knew he’d love the celebrity gossip. I flashed pictures at him pretending he could see the awful hairstyle or the weight gain or weight loss story. I tried to sound upbeat and optimistic rather than how helpless I felt seeing him in the hospital bed. The visiting hours were generous considering Ricky’s condition, but the visitors’ list was short. Other than his parents and my parents, I was the only nonmedical, non-county worker allowed in his room. I supported the restrictions since we didn’t know who had hurt Ricky. I even glimpsed Grind getting turned away by the day nurse, a woman who may have been a prison guard prior to working at Langston hospital.

I squeezed my eyes closed as I pleaded and prayed for Ricky to wake up. My useless meditation was interrupted.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” Marin bumped her shoulder against me. “Are you still mad at me about how Addie’s case came out or can we be friends?”

My whole face smiled. I looked into her eyes with the same need a plant has when it leans toward sunlight. “Well, since you seem to pop up to help people I care about, we better figure out a way to be friends. What can you do for Ricky?”

Marin smiled too. She pulled the extra chair closer to me. I smelled lavender. “I got his state insurance opened so that his hospital care is covered, his medications, and he can get rehabilitation services after his stay here.”

“When he’s done here, he’s coming to our house,” I said. “We have a room set up downstairs. It’s the room where Addie stayed. Years ago, I shared that room with my sister, Becky. We have burned sage in there since then. I think any residue of our fights is long gone. Momma and I can take care of Ricky.”

“That is a good hearted, generous offer, Lorraine, but because Ricky isn’t conscious to speak for himself and hasn’t completed any paperwork assigning a medical power of attorney, his parents will need to decide the details of his medical care.”

“Will you ever give me any good news?”

“Good news? I have good news. Addie is doing well. She loves the ranch. She’d like to see you again. She said you have a kitten for her.”

“I do. Can she have a kitten there?”

“Yeah, why don’t you bring it out on Saturday? I’m working there in the morning…I’m off in time for lunch after.” She didn’t wait for a response. Before I could babble anything, a woman had entered the room and the moment she saw Marin she took her into her arms and kissed her cheek. The woman had a Mayan build and the female equivalent of Ricky’s beauty. I knew in an instant this was Ricky’s mother.

“Maria, do you know Ricky’s good friend, Lorraine Tyler?” Marin asked.

Next the woman had me in an embrace.

“I’m Maria Lopez Johnson,” she said. “You are my son’s good friend, the daughter of that big woman from his school? Thank you.”

“Hi, Mrs. Johnson. I’m really sorry somebody hurt Ricky. My dad and I found him that night.”

Marin told Mrs. Johnson she had to go, then she nodded at me. “Until Saturday.” She left. I know I stared at the empty space Marin left behind her like something of her presence remained in the room. I startled when I remembered Mrs. Johnson was still there.

I watched as Ricky’s mother approached his bedside. “I’m so glad you and your father saved my son.” Her coffee-brown hair was braided and reached past her waist. “I bet Ricky liked to play with your hair.”

I pulled a chair to the bed and sat beside her. “Oh, yes. He loves my hair. He knows how to do hair.”

Mrs. Johnson worried rosary beads between her brown fingers. “Yeah, he wanted me to let mine grow out, so he could put it up.”

I tried to flatten the springy curls that sprouted every which way from my skull. “Is Ricky’s dad coming to see him soon?”

I knew from the nurses that Ricky’s dad hadn’t been at the hospital yet.

“No. He cannot come.”

“Does he still hate Ricky for being queer? That’s the stupidest—”

Bless her, she stopped me mid-rant. “No, it’s not that. He feels horrible. He feels like this is his fault. He’s ashamed.”

“He better get over it! While he’s wallowing in his mistake, Ricky is fighting for his life. It might help Ricky to have some sign of love from him.” I knew it wasn’t my place to lecture anyone’s parents and butt my nose in private business, but Momma was at home with Allan and unavailable for the meddling and unsolicited advice. I’m every bit my momma’s daughter.

Dr. Jonas came in. Short, stocky, his muscles strained against the fabric of his white coat as he held the chart in front of him and took command of the room. “Mrs. Johnson, Lorraine, it’s good to see you both. Mrs. Johnson, in case you haven’t heard about it, this young woman and her parents found Ricky and well, there’s no other way to say it, they saved his life.”

Mrs. Johnson chewed on her fist as she sobbed.

“Here’s what I know. I will lower the dose on his pain medication over the next few days. I expect he will regain consciousness and we can begin feeding him through a straw. He’s fought off infection. His wounds, although not completely healed, are at least closed. He had a fair amount of alcohol in his system and strangely, ketamine. I hope he will refrain from drug and alcohol use in the future.” He continued perusing the flip chart.

“All systems are go! That’s with the help of suppositories and we’ll see how he does once he’s conscious. If we can manage his pain, he could go home. His jaws are mending nicely, and the wires could come out in a week or so. I don’t think there’s any brain damage—no swelling, the scans are clear. Of course, we won’t know some things until we can hear him talk and start walking, but I have reason to believe he’ll be okay.”

“Okay as anybody could be when someone tried to kill them,” I said.

“You’re right,” Dr. Jonas said. “Ricky will need some help to get through the emotional trauma of this. Any word on taking the guy who did this off the street?”

“Not yet. Will Ricky need a nursing home?”

“I don’t think so. He’s young and strong. I think if we can get him off the tube and awake, he could start some rehab. Don’t mistake what I’m saying. His care will be demanding, but I think it’s better done by family.” Dr. Jonas flipped the chart shut and rocked on his heels.

“That vet fellow, I saw him at the desk,” Dr. Jonas began.

“Twitch is here? He’s not on the visitor’s list.”

“I don’t think he came in the room. He checked in with me, actually; and he said you’d probably like to take Ricky home to your place—what with his folks working out of the home.” Dr. Jonas scanned Mrs. Johnson and then me. “Oh, how could I forget? Your mother, Mrs. Tyler, was here several times yesterday and today, stating in no uncertain terms that she wanted to care for him and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Mrs. Johnson gave a crooked smile and a barely perceivable nod.

“Is it okay if I bring Ricky home when he’s ready?” I asked Ricky’s mom. “I don’t know if Momma would fight you for him, but she does seem like her mind’s made up…please.”

Mrs. Johnson smiled.

“You and your husband can come to our house any time to see him. You can stay overnight if you want…My momma’s a great cook. She would feed you and we could play cards.” I finally stopped my babbling when Maria hugged me again.