Heartsong (Logan 2)

"It's time," he said. "Go on. They'll show you

where he is," he added.

I didn't think I could stand, but I did. I gazed at

Aunt Sara, who looked up at me with curiosity and

confusion, and yet with a prayer on her lips and in her eyes. I smiled-at her and at May and then I started toward the door to the cardiac-care unit, my legs and feet floating over the hard tiled floor. I opened the door and entered the large room with the circular nurses' station in the center, a bank of monitors reporting the heartbeats of the patients around them. Everyone looked efficient and serious, emphasizing the critical care and the possibility of life-and-death

choices that were made there each and every day. I sucked in my breath and started across the

room, passing elderly patients, until the head nurse

greeted me.

"Melody Logan?" she asked with a brief smile. Yes, ma'am."

"Right this way," she said and nodded toward

the last bed on the right where Uncle Jacob, hooked to

his life-saving machinery and his monitors lay

waiting, inches from death's grasp. Cary was right

about him, he did resemble a corpse, pallid, small,

withered.

I looked at the nurse.

"You can stay here a few minutes and see if he

wakes. Otherwise, come back later, on the hour," she

suggested. She checked the drip in his I.V. bag and

then walked back to the nurse's station. Timidly, I drew closer to Uncle Jacob's bed and gazed down at him. The beep, beep, beep of the monitors seemed to

mirror my own drumming heart.

Half of me wanted him to remain asleep, while

the other half couldn't contain my curiosity. I was

tempted to flee and also tempted to touch his hand to

see if he would waken. His eyelids trembled and I saw

his lips writhe and then stiffen.

"Uncle Jacob," I said, or at least, I thought I

did. Maybe I had just thought it. He didn't

acknowledge me. "Uncle Jacob?" I said a little louder. His eyelids fluttered and then opened. He

turned slowly and looked at me. There were oxygen