Music in the Night (Logan 4)

"No one told me," I said. "I'm just afraid."

"I'll stand here all night if necessary until you take your medication. And if you don't, we'll have an I.V. hooked to your arm and we'll feed them to you intravenously," she warned.

"But they make me so groggy. I'm already exhausted just from that little walk," I moaned.

She held out the pills, her expression

unchanging and unsympathetic.

"Are you going to take these pills voluntarily?" she finally asked.

Reluctantly, I took them from her. She watched me wash them down, her hands on her hips, her eyes beady.

"Strap her in," she said.

"But Doctor Scanlon said I don't need to be strapped in. He promised," I cried.

"As head nurse I have to make decisions on the spur of the moment if necessary. You just said the walking made you tired. I don't think you'll be safe tonight without being strapped in," she said.

"Look at my legs, how red they are," I said.

"That's nothing compared to what could happen if you fall on your face. Strap her in," she

commanded.

Clare moved quickly to obey her.

"I want to see Doctor Scanlon," I demanded.

"He'll be here tomorrow at his usual hour."

"I want to see him now!"

"Don't raise your voice to me, young lady. Your grandmother might be paying for your treatments and making big donations, but you're still a guest of this clinic. We don't take just anyone--no matter who they are," she said and marched out of my room.

Clare gave me a look of sympathy and then quickly followed after her.

"I want to see the doctor!" I shouted at the nearly closed door.

No one returned or responded.

Soon, the pills began to take effect again. My eyes drooped and I felt weaker. It was futile to struggle against them. Sleep and remember, I thought. Sleep and remember who you are and then you will be free.

Vaguely, I thought about something Mrs. Roundchild had said . . . something about my grandmother. What did all that mean? That was my last conscious thought.

I knew the dosage Mrs. Roundchild had given me was considerably greater, as Doctor Scanlon had promised, because I didn't wake during the night. Lawrence had been in my room, too. I knew because when I woke, I found a tissue in my hand with the words "I love you. Guess who--" scribbled on it. It made me smile, but also put fear in my heart because I was afraid someone would find it. I quickly crumbled the tissue into a ball and put it in my bedpan. No one would want to look at it now, I thought.

Doctor Scanlon didn't come to see me the entire day. I kept asking about him, but as usual, neither nurse's aide knew anything and Mrs. Roundchild simply said, "He'll be here when he'll be here."

The only thing I could count on regularly was my medication. They had me taking it twice now, once in the morning, once at night. The night dosage affected me just the way it had the night before. Soon after I took it, I was asleep, but this time, my dream woke me, or at least I thought I woke.

Once again, I saw a hand come out of the ocean and then a head began to rise to the surface. When I saw his eyes, I started to scream. He was sinking again and I was struggling to reach him. I heard his voice. I heard him say, "Help me, Laura. Help me. I want to be with you always. Help me. Come to me."

I felt his lips on my face and reached out to embrace him and cradled his head against my breast where he could fall asleep safely. Just before morning, I woke with a start. I wasn't imagining it now. I did feel something against my breast and turned to see Lawrence, his head resting on me, his body curled up beside me.

"Lawrence," I cried. His eyes fluttered. "When did you come? I don't remember."

"I was here, Laura. I've been here for hours and hours."