Star (Wildflowers 2)

"That whole day in school, I kept hoping he would show up late. I knew he would if he could because he would anticipate what I was going through, but he didn't come. The day ended and he never appeared. I was like a zombie in class, hardly hearing anything. In math I didn't even hear the teacher call on me and I got bawled out for that, but I didn't much care.

"I

was afraid to go to his house again right after school, afraid of what Granny would say and how angry she would be, but I didn't know what to do. I couldn't call. The phone was still disconnected.

"I told her Steve hadn't come to school. She lectured me about how it was between him and his father and I shouldn't get too deeply involved, but I was deeply involved. It was too late to think of not being there. I couldn't eat. I did the best I could to please her and I helped her with the dishes and then I moped about, hoping that somehow he would get to a phone and call me. Why doesn't he call? I kept wondering.

"I was tempted to run out again so many times that night, but I held on to the hope that he would be in school the next day and the mystery would be over. Maybe he was still just too embarrassed to show up with that bruise and egg-shaped swelling on his cheek.

"Of course, I couldn't get around the fact that he would have called me or gotten some message to me about it somehow. Something was wrong. I knew it in my heart. I felt it in my stomach.

"The next day I waited at the locker and he didn't show up, but instead of going to homeroom, I went to the office and asked to speak to the guidance counselor, Mr. VanVleet, who had once given Steve advice about his father, advice he respected.

"'What can I do for you, Star?' he asked. `You're going to be late for homeroom again, you know.'

" `I know, but I've got to talk to you,' I said desperately enough for him to agree. He told his secretary to inform my homeroom teacher I was with him.

"'Okay,' he said taking his seat behind his desk. `What's so important this morning?'

"'I'm worried about Steve Gilmore,' I said and I told him how we had planned to meet at the lockers yesterday and then how I waited today. I told him quickly why I was worried. He didn't interrupt, but when I was finished, he looked down at his desk and then shook his head and looked up at me.

" `I'm sorry to tell you that there was domestic violence in that house night before last. The police arrested Steve's father after some woman made a nineone-one call and the paramedics found Steve unconscious. He's in St. Mary's hospital and he's in a coma,' he told me.

"Things get kind of gray for me at this point," I said. I looked at Doctor Marlowe.

"I guess this is about where we are, where we've been," I said, looking at her. She nodded.

"I can remember the pain. It was like when you get a paper cut and it stings so bad, only this cut was right through my heart. I felt all the blood leaking out. My head was suddenly very light and my legs felt wobbly, but I didn't faint. I remember that I nodded and left the office.

"When I stepped into the hallway, I remember I looked down toward my homeroom, but I found myself outside the school. I ran a lot. Eventually, I got on the right bus. Don't ask me how I knew where I was going at that point. I guess something takes over inside you, some second-self that works you like a robot.

"The next thing I remember I was standing in front of the hospital. I didn't think at all about being in trouble for running out of the school or about what it was going to do to Granny. I guess what I thought was if I could just speak to Steve, maybe hold his hand, he would be all right again and our future together could still happen.

"That's what gave me the strength to go into the hospital and ask for him at the information desk. They said he was in something called intensive care and only immediate family could visit. I said that was fine. I was his sister. No one challenged me so I followed directions and went to the elevator.

"When I opened the door to intensive care, I was greeted immediately by a nurse. Once again, I said I was Steve's sister. She looked like she didn't believe me, but something in my eyes must have told her that if she didn't show me to him, I would be trouble.

"'He's still not responding,' was all she would say. She brought me to his bed and told me I could stay about ten minutes.

"His head was bandaged and there was another big bruise on his face, just on the left side of his jaw. His eyes were closed so tight the lids looked glued shut. They had all sorts of stuff flowing into his arm.

"I worked my fingers around his anyway and I began to talk to him.

"'I'm here, Steve,' I said. 'It's me, Star. I knew something was wrong when you didn't show up. I knew you wouldn't let me down. Please get better, Steve. Please,' I pleaded.

"They said I was crying very hard and that was why the nurse came over and made me leave. The way it worked was I could return in an hour, actually every hour on the hour for ten minutes or so. Some nurses let me stay longer than others. I talked to him more the second and third times. One time I just held his hand.

"No one else came to see him of course. His daddy was still in jail and probably wouldn't have come. Debbie certainly wouldn't come.

"I didn't eat- any lunch and I never thought about Rodney until it was too late. I found out later that he waited for me and then gave up and found his way to Granny's all right. He was crying when he arrived and Granny went frantic and called the police. By then the school had called anyway and I guess Mr. VanVleet came up with the thought that I had gone to the hospital to see about Steve.

"Late in the afternoon, before the police came to the hospital to look for me, something happened in Steve's head. Some kind of a blood clot. I don't know all the fancy medical details but his heart stopped and they went into an emergency procedure just as I walked in again. I saw them all around his bed working on him. No one seemed to notice I was standing there. I saw and heard them give up.

"I only have very sketchy memories after that: a policeman talking to me, walking toward the front entrance of the hospital, running, being in the street, being in some alley someplace, wandering through a lot full of garbage and broken-down cars, some old man smiling at me, his mouth toothless, grimy hair on his face and chin, standing by a heavily-traveled street and then . ."

I looked at Doctor Marlowe.

"Then they said I tried to kill myself by walking out on the street and just standing in the way of traffic. Car horns were blaring all around me, people were shouting, one car hit its brakes too fast and another crashed into the rear of it. Glass was shattering. There was so much noise, I put my hands over my ears and pressed them so hard, they actually carried me off the street and put me into the back of the police car with my hands still pushing on my head.