Wicked Forest (DeBeers 2)

"Can we see her I asked.

"Yes. We've placed her in our ICU. It's protocol to provide a clear air passageway, of course, so we have a nasogastric tube employed. She's on a heart monitor. I'm just telling you all this so you're not surprised or frightened by what you see." he added with a soft turn of his lips. He glanced at Linden, then shifted his eyes back to me and nodded. "I'm sorry," he said. "My suspicion is, there were some warnings that were ignored. Many people don't even know when they are having a stroke. I read a report yesterday from the University of Cincinnati that indicated 52 percent of their acute stroke patients were unaware they were experiencing a stroke. We've got to do better at making people stroke-smart."

What does all this have to do with us now? I thought. Maybe he was only trying to make conversation, or maybe, in his own way, trying to explain how someone you loved dearly was about to be taken from you and how he, our doctor, a representative of this great medical machine, this expensive infrastructure of doctors, nurses, devices and medicines, was helpless and could offer only a smooth transition to the grave.

I nodded. took Linden's arm, and headed for the ICU. When we got there, the nurse seemed to glide over the floor like a funeral director, gesturing rather than talking, and directing us to Mother's bedside, She looked so small, the bed and the machinery around her engulfing her. I held tightly to Linden's arm. He was still very stiff. mechanical, his jaw taut, his eyes like marbles,

"She doesn't look like she's suffering" was all I could manage.

Linden released a breath, faltered for a second, then regained his poise and straightened his back. I reached for Mother's hand and held it. She already felt as cold as a corpse, her complexion fading as if she were being drawn slowly down into herself. into her own bones, closing like a clamshell.

So she was not going to see her grandchild after all. I thought. She was not going to enjoy the autumn of her life and be part of my accomplishments. All of the pr

omise I had brought, all of the renewed hope was to be lost. I knew that she had wanted to help me and support me at this time of great difficulty. Perhaps. on top of all the pain and suffering she had endured, mine was too much. Perhaps. if I had left her alone, if I had not sought her out and become part of her life, she wouldn't be lying here now. I couldn't help wondering about it.

The tears streamed down my cheeks. I took deep breaths and wiped them away. Then I felt Linden nudging me.

"We've got to get home." he said.

"Get home?"

"You know how Grace is," he replied. smiling. "She won't eat dinner without us."

It felt like an ice cube was sliding down my spine.

He looked up. and I realized he wasn't looking at Mother. He was looking past her. Something in him was keeping him from seeing her like this. He had shut all the doors to reality and retreated to the world he knew at Jaya del Mar. Maybe he was better off. I thought. What good would it do him now if I forced him to acknowledge her, dying in this bed?

"Okay, Linden," I said. "We'll go home."

I leaned over and kissed Mother on the cheek and whispered. "I love you."

Then I turned and led Linden away like a blind man. I left all of our information with the medical office before we drove home. As soon as we arrived. Jennings asked after Mother. and I told him the sad news. He looked absolutely devastated and mumbled some consoling remark before retreating. There was no doubt in my mind that the only reason he had opted to remain with us rather than go off with the Eatans was his admiration and love for Mother. It made it all seem that much sadder.

On behalf of the Club d'Arnour, Marion did call me that evening. I imagined them drawing straws to see who would be forced to make the call. I told her Mother's diagnosis and prognosis. She muttered her regrets quickly and, with little enthusiasm, asked me to call her if I needed anything. It wasn't difficult to understand. She, as well as her friends and so many other people I had met here, spent most of their time finding new and exciting ways to please themselves. They lived in a world in which they could assign their responsibilities to someone else, even their daily worries. Problems meant only that money would be spent, and money was in such abundance, it meant nothing. Despair. poverty, age, and death itself were persona non grata. They were to be ignored. Rich people here don't die, I thought. They simply stop being invited to parties, balls, and dinners . That was the extent of facing reality.

Linden was obviously having his own difficulty with the events transpiring. He came by my suite to call me to dinner. I joined him at the table. and unlike his behavior before, he was talkative and animated again.

"Mother isn't feeling well enough to join us." he said. "But she would be upset if we didn't have our dinner because of that."

"Linden," I said softly, "Mother is very, very ill."

"Oh. I know. I've been after her to take better care of herself, you know. Why, if it wasn't for me, she wouldn't eat a decent meal half the time. I'm the one who gets her outside to get fresh air and take walks. She would be content sitting in her room. We've got to get her to help herself more. Willow. I've told you that many times, haven't I?

"She'll listen if you chime in as well. She usually listens to you better than she listens to me these days."

"Linden..."

"Yes?" He started to eat.

I watched him for a moment, and then I shook my head, eating what I could while he talked on and on about the things he was going to do with the house to make Mother happier and more comfortable at Jaya del Mar.

This isn't good; I thought. I must make him realize it at is really happening,. I must make him face the troth.

"You know she's in the hospital, Linden. You know that we had to take her there in an ambulance. You must not pretend that didn't happen. Please,," I said. "I need you to be strong now."

He blinked rapidly and nodded, then smiled.

"I know, but don't you worry about her," he said. "She'll be home soon. Grace hates the very idea of hospitals and clinics and doctors. She's had a bellyful of them. She won't stand for another day there, so get ready to pick her up and bring her back." He thought a moment.