Chapter Two
Simple Twist of Fate
Not long after that, in Denver, Uncle Bill was just checking his messages while standing in the hotel lobby after a long business dinner during which he had turned off his cell phone. He had two messages from his office in New York. One from a pretty young woman he had met the night before. And one from Sissy ...
Bill put one hand on the nearest wall to steady himself as he listened. Was she crying? He wasn't sure, but Sissy almost never cried. And French? His head was spinning as he replayed the message to make sure than he had heard right. French had been in an accident. And no one else was there. The message was hardly more than an hour old, but he tried to call the apartment anyway. No one was home.
"Sissy, don't worry, okay, honey? I'll be there just as soon as I can. Tomorrow morning, if I can get a flight. Just take care of Buffy and Jody, and don't worry, sweetheart, everything's going to work out fine. Call me back whenever you can. And ... and ... I promise I'll be home soon." said Bill, leaving message for Sissy before approaching the concierge's desk at his hotel.
"I need a plane to New York. It has to leave in less than an hour, if that's even remotely possible." he told the man. His own plane was in Los Angles for scheduled maintenance.
"Yes, sir." said the concierge. He knew the look on Bill's face. He had seen it before. There was something wrong back home. It wasn't any of his business, but he couldn't help but to wonder.
Bill was looking at the phone in his hand with a dazed expression on his face. There was no one in the city he could call, no one that he trusted that much or knew that well. Sissy and the twins were on their own until he could get a flight back.
"Sir, I have a flight leaving in forty minutes. Will that suffice?" asked the concierge.
"Absolutely. Now call me a cab." said Bill, snapping out of it.
"And your luggage?"
"Can you just pack it up and ship it to me?"
It was chilly outside as they stood in front of the apartment building. Jody was holding French's bag while Sissy flagged down a taxi. They bundled themselves into the back as soon as one stopped. Sissy sat in the middle with a twin on either side. The taxi was warm, and the warmth helped to clear her head.
"Where to?" asked the driver, looking at them in the rearview mirror.
"The hospital." answered Sissy.
Both Buffy and Jody's eyes widened at this bit of news. She wished they hadn't heard it. She wished they didn't know what it meant, but they did.
The driver, good at minding his own business, just nodded and sped away from the curb.
The runts huddled closer to their big sister, too young to know what to ask her about their destination. They just knew that it wasn't good. Going to the hospital meant funny smells and mean looks from grown-ups in white coats. It meant sick people, and angry people, and sad people. It meant talking quietly and sitting still for a long time. No, going to the hospital was definitely anything but good. Buffy and Jody could certainly agree on that.
At the hospital Sissy paid for the cab and dragged the twins inside before entrusting Buffy with the extra bag. She tried her best to psych herself up to feel more mature, more like someone the lady at the reception desk would feel like dealing with. She pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket, information Officer Carmichael had given her over the phone. She wasn't sure how much of it was correct given her state mind while talking to him, but it was better than nothing.
"Hi, I'm looking for someone." she told the receptionist. The woman glanced at the two kids standing quietly just behind here. "We're looking for someone." Sissy amended. She passed the crinkled paper across the desk. "He was brought in maybe a couple of hours ago. His name's French." she added.
The woman looked at the scrap of paper and began typing information into a computer. Sissy leaned over the desk to watch, but the receptionist gave her a look that clearly told her to back off.
"Is he your father?" the desk worker asked with the barest hint of concern. It had already been a long evening for her.
"Um, no. Our parents are dead. He just takes care of us." said Sissy, not quite telling the whole truth, but hoping to solicit assistance from the woman under those pretenses.
The receptionist glanced at Sissy and said, "Sorry, miss."
She took the rumpled piece of note paper and wrote down a room number and the name of a doctor on duty.
"Thank you." said Sissy, shoving the paper in her pocket before grabbing Buffy and Jody by the hand. She didn't look at it until they reached the elevator. "I want you two to be on your best behavior." she warned the twins as they began the assent to one of the higher floors.
"Yes, Sissy." the pair answered quietly. They hardly needed to be told that.
The hospital corridor in which they found themselves was remarkably quiet. It wasn't like anything they had seen on television. There were no doctors racing through the hall next to gurneys or yelling nurses. The sound of quickly, evenly stepping feet down another hall was the only noise that even registered. A nurse at a big desk nearby watched them as Sissy glanced at her note and then at her surroundings.
"May I help you, dear?" questioned the nurse, who looked rather old and very grandmotherly, not at all like the business-like woman downstairs.
"Yes," Sissy answered with a smile, glad to see a friendly face, "we're looking for a friend of ours."
"I don't recall having anyone quite your age on this ward." said the nurse, reaching for Sissy's note, which she relinquished willingly.
"He's a lot older." said Sissy, momentarily wondering, "Exactly how old is French?"
"Oh, yes, I know the patient you mean. Just follow me. Doctor Swenson is making his rounds right now, and I think you should speak with him first." said the nurse.
Sissy glanced at the runts and grimaced before asking, "Is there a waiting room or someplace I could leave my brother and sister while we do this?"
"Certainly, dear, just come with me." she said, smiling at the two youngsters.
Gladys, the night nurse, who had just come on duty, led them to a small, vacant waiting area. Sissy sat Buffy and Jody down on the couch, relieving them of the bag packed for French.
"I want you guys to read or study while I'm gone, okay? That means you two should use your indoor voices and no running around. Right?" Sissy told them.
"Are we going to have to stay here all night?" asked Buffy in a distressed tone.
"No, I don't think so. Just for a little while, I hope." answered Sissy, hugging them both before following Gladys out.
"They seem like nice kids." chuckled Gladys, guiding Sissy down the corridor toward a man in a white coat who was reading a clipboard.
"Yeah, they are." agreed Sissy.
"Hank!" Gladys called as Doctor Swenson began walking down the hall in the opposite direction. "I've got someone here to see one of your patients!" she added as the doctor turned.
The expression on the rather formidable looking physician's face was one of mild vexation as his eyes came to rest on Sissy.
"Gladys, there is an unattended minor in my ward." he said sternly.
"Aw, Hank, she isn't unattended. She's with me." said the nurse, obviously well aquatinted with the doctor's brusque manner.
"Which patient is she here to see then?"
"The car accident ..." said Gladys.
Doctor Swenson seemed to study Sissy for a moment before commenting, "Oh, that one."
"Is he all right?" asked Sissy, plucking up her courage.
"Gladys, shouldn't you be minding the desk?" he asked the nurse, making the subtle suggestion that she should return to her station.
"I suppose so." Gladys agreed.
Doctor Swenson leaned against the wall and flipped through the notes on his clipboard.
"Are you going to tell me how Mister French is doing or not?" asked Sissy after a few minutes of silence.
"How old are you?" the doctor asked. "I only want to know so I can gauge how much medical terminology to throw at you at once."
"Fourteen." answered Sissy.
Swenson raised an eyebrow and said, "You must be mature for your age then. None of the fourteen-year-olds I know would have come here without an adult."
"Thanks. I think. Not that we had much choice."
"We?"
"My younger siblings are in the waiting room."
The doctor rubbed his eyes and said, "Great. Now I guess I can answer your question." Sissy looked at him expectantly. "He is going to be all right, in time. Mister French has two broken bones in his left leg, which has been encased in a plaster cast. His left wrist has given indications of a severe sprain. He has had ... a number of stitches due to a series of cuts caused when his face made contact with the windshield of the vehicle that struck him. Another result of this contact is a mild concussion in the area of ... well, you don't need to know that ... and a somewhat more serious contrecoup injury that is the result of hitting the pavement." Swenson explained to her. "Do you understand all that?" he asked.
"Most of it. But you didn't really say how he's doing." said Sissy.
"He is currently unconscious."
"Does that mean I can't see him?"
"No, it just means that he can't see you." said Doctor Swenson, motioning for her to follow him down the hall.
The hospital room was almost dark inside, lit only by a pale fluorescent light over the bed inside and the softer glow of the city lights through the blinds. Doctor Swenson lingered at the door, watching Sissy with some vague interest as he pretended to study his clipboard. She was awfully brave, awfully together for someone so young.
Sissy set her bags down near the door and cautiously approached the bed with a combination of curiosity and trepidation.
The figure on the bed had a bandage over much of the left side of his face, hiding any sign of stitches or even bruising. It was only when Sissy was close enough to note the slight pallor of French's skin and the intravenous needles in his arm that she began to feel light-headed. She grasped the half-rail at the edge of the bed until the dizziness passed. It was the hideous gray hospital gown that made him look so much paler, she decided, and the needles were there for a good reason. Sissy felt giddy again and grasped the railing even more tightly. There was no denying it. Mister French looked as though he had been hit by a bus.
"How long is he going to be like this?" asked Sissy, glancing over her shoulder at the shadowy figure in the doorway.
"He isn't in a coma, if that's what you're asking. He will probably regain consciousness within the next six to twelve hours." answered Swenson.
"We need to stay here tonight, my brother and sister and me. Is that all right?"
"You need to stay because you don't have anywhere else to go or because you want to stay with him?"
"Is there a right answer to that question?" asked Sissy, releasing her death-grip on the railing and turning around to face Doctor Swenson.
"No, I was just curious. Gladys would never let me forget it if I turned three kids out like that. She's been here since the fifties. She remembers how things were back then. Families, hospital stays, cots on the floor. That sort of thing. But I want it to be understood that neither Gladys nor I will stand for you or your siblings disturbing the other patients or running amok in this ward."
"Right. Sounds good." Sissy nodded, surprised that the doctor was willing to allow them to stay. She had expected him possibly to call child and family services or at best let them come back in the morning.
"Then go and collect your siblings while I have a word with Gladys about the sleeping arrangements." said Swenson with a soft smile.
The twins were dutifully reading their school books when Sissy returned to the waiting room. They looked up from the book they were sharing as Sissy sat down in a chair across from them.
"We're going to stay here and I need you guys to be extra good tonight, all right?" she told them.
"Does that mean Mister French is staying here too?" asked Jody.
"That's right." nodded Sissy, not quite sure what to tell them or how. "If you two pack up your book bags, we can go see him now." she said.
Sissy was never quite sure if the twins liked Mister French, at least not until they began throwing things into their backpacks at record speeds, obviously eager to see him. She only smiled and hoped that they wouldn't freak out when they saw him. Buffy and Jody were just six after all and didn't have her experience with hospitals, limited though it was.
But her fears proved to be mostly unfounded as the runts dashed to the side of the hospital bed and, using their indoor voices, of course, began daring each other to poke him. While not an activity to be encouraged, especially with a nurse near at hand setting up an old rickety cot, it was a far cry from Sissy's own experience of dizziness or the freak-out that she feared from them.
"Stop that!" she whispered.
"Oh, don't bother trying to stop them, dear. It would be a great help if the tikes woke him up." chuckled Gladys as she made up a cot for the two runts to share.
"What happened to him?" asked Jody, looking at the huge cast on French's leg.
"He was hit by a car ... on his way home this afternoon ..." answered Sissy.
"Is he gonna let us sign his cast?" he asked.
"Um ... we'll have to ask him in the morning." replied his older sister.
"Mrs. Beasly says that Mister French looks sick." said Buffy.
"Now, now, children," clucked Gladys, "I don't think he'd would like you saying that at all. It's probably just the lighting."
Buffy looked skeptical.
"Yeah," agreed Sissy, understanding what the older lady was trying to do, "and I bet he'll look just fine in the morning when all the lights are on and its all sunny outside."
"I expect it's time for all of you to get some rest." said the night nurse, pointing Sissy in the direction of a chair in the corner with a pile of blankets on it.
Gladys turned the fluorescent light down after they settled in and closed the door, softly chuckling at the three youngsters and their exceptionally lucky older 'friend'.
"Sissy?" questioned Buffy in the dark.
"What?"
"Do we have to go to school tomorrow?"
"You're not getting out of school this easily." she laughed, trying to get comfortable in her chair.
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A/N: Please review! I just want to know if I should keep posting this or not. Please?
Simple Twist of Fate
Not long after that, in Denver, Uncle Bill was just checking his messages while standing in the hotel lobby after a long business dinner during which he had turned off his cell phone. He had two messages from his office in New York. One from a pretty young woman he had met the night before. And one from Sissy ...
Bill put one hand on the nearest wall to steady himself as he listened. Was she crying? He wasn't sure, but Sissy almost never cried. And French? His head was spinning as he replayed the message to make sure than he had heard right. French had been in an accident. And no one else was there. The message was hardly more than an hour old, but he tried to call the apartment anyway. No one was home.
"Sissy, don't worry, okay, honey? I'll be there just as soon as I can. Tomorrow morning, if I can get a flight. Just take care of Buffy and Jody, and don't worry, sweetheart, everything's going to work out fine. Call me back whenever you can. And ... and ... I promise I'll be home soon." said Bill, leaving message for Sissy before approaching the concierge's desk at his hotel.
"I need a plane to New York. It has to leave in less than an hour, if that's even remotely possible." he told the man. His own plane was in Los Angles for scheduled maintenance.
"Yes, sir." said the concierge. He knew the look on Bill's face. He had seen it before. There was something wrong back home. It wasn't any of his business, but he couldn't help but to wonder.
Bill was looking at the phone in his hand with a dazed expression on his face. There was no one in the city he could call, no one that he trusted that much or knew that well. Sissy and the twins were on their own until he could get a flight back.
"Sir, I have a flight leaving in forty minutes. Will that suffice?" asked the concierge.
"Absolutely. Now call me a cab." said Bill, snapping out of it.
"And your luggage?"
"Can you just pack it up and ship it to me?"
It was chilly outside as they stood in front of the apartment building. Jody was holding French's bag while Sissy flagged down a taxi. They bundled themselves into the back as soon as one stopped. Sissy sat in the middle with a twin on either side. The taxi was warm, and the warmth helped to clear her head.
"Where to?" asked the driver, looking at them in the rearview mirror.
"The hospital." answered Sissy.
Both Buffy and Jody's eyes widened at this bit of news. She wished they hadn't heard it. She wished they didn't know what it meant, but they did.
The driver, good at minding his own business, just nodded and sped away from the curb.
The runts huddled closer to their big sister, too young to know what to ask her about their destination. They just knew that it wasn't good. Going to the hospital meant funny smells and mean looks from grown-ups in white coats. It meant sick people, and angry people, and sad people. It meant talking quietly and sitting still for a long time. No, going to the hospital was definitely anything but good. Buffy and Jody could certainly agree on that.
At the hospital Sissy paid for the cab and dragged the twins inside before entrusting Buffy with the extra bag. She tried her best to psych herself up to feel more mature, more like someone the lady at the reception desk would feel like dealing with. She pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket, information Officer Carmichael had given her over the phone. She wasn't sure how much of it was correct given her state mind while talking to him, but it was better than nothing.
"Hi, I'm looking for someone." she told the receptionist. The woman glanced at the two kids standing quietly just behind here. "We're looking for someone." Sissy amended. She passed the crinkled paper across the desk. "He was brought in maybe a couple of hours ago. His name's French." she added.
The woman looked at the scrap of paper and began typing information into a computer. Sissy leaned over the desk to watch, but the receptionist gave her a look that clearly told her to back off.
"Is he your father?" the desk worker asked with the barest hint of concern. It had already been a long evening for her.
"Um, no. Our parents are dead. He just takes care of us." said Sissy, not quite telling the whole truth, but hoping to solicit assistance from the woman under those pretenses.
The receptionist glanced at Sissy and said, "Sorry, miss."
She took the rumpled piece of note paper and wrote down a room number and the name of a doctor on duty.
"Thank you." said Sissy, shoving the paper in her pocket before grabbing Buffy and Jody by the hand. She didn't look at it until they reached the elevator. "I want you two to be on your best behavior." she warned the twins as they began the assent to one of the higher floors.
"Yes, Sissy." the pair answered quietly. They hardly needed to be told that.
The hospital corridor in which they found themselves was remarkably quiet. It wasn't like anything they had seen on television. There were no doctors racing through the hall next to gurneys or yelling nurses. The sound of quickly, evenly stepping feet down another hall was the only noise that even registered. A nurse at a big desk nearby watched them as Sissy glanced at her note and then at her surroundings.
"May I help you, dear?" questioned the nurse, who looked rather old and very grandmotherly, not at all like the business-like woman downstairs.
"Yes," Sissy answered with a smile, glad to see a friendly face, "we're looking for a friend of ours."
"I don't recall having anyone quite your age on this ward." said the nurse, reaching for Sissy's note, which she relinquished willingly.
"He's a lot older." said Sissy, momentarily wondering, "Exactly how old is French?"
"Oh, yes, I know the patient you mean. Just follow me. Doctor Swenson is making his rounds right now, and I think you should speak with him first." said the nurse.
Sissy glanced at the runts and grimaced before asking, "Is there a waiting room or someplace I could leave my brother and sister while we do this?"
"Certainly, dear, just come with me." she said, smiling at the two youngsters.
Gladys, the night nurse, who had just come on duty, led them to a small, vacant waiting area. Sissy sat Buffy and Jody down on the couch, relieving them of the bag packed for French.
"I want you guys to read or study while I'm gone, okay? That means you two should use your indoor voices and no running around. Right?" Sissy told them.
"Are we going to have to stay here all night?" asked Buffy in a distressed tone.
"No, I don't think so. Just for a little while, I hope." answered Sissy, hugging them both before following Gladys out.
"They seem like nice kids." chuckled Gladys, guiding Sissy down the corridor toward a man in a white coat who was reading a clipboard.
"Yeah, they are." agreed Sissy.
"Hank!" Gladys called as Doctor Swenson began walking down the hall in the opposite direction. "I've got someone here to see one of your patients!" she added as the doctor turned.
The expression on the rather formidable looking physician's face was one of mild vexation as his eyes came to rest on Sissy.
"Gladys, there is an unattended minor in my ward." he said sternly.
"Aw, Hank, she isn't unattended. She's with me." said the nurse, obviously well aquatinted with the doctor's brusque manner.
"Which patient is she here to see then?"
"The car accident ..." said Gladys.
Doctor Swenson seemed to study Sissy for a moment before commenting, "Oh, that one."
"Is he all right?" asked Sissy, plucking up her courage.
"Gladys, shouldn't you be minding the desk?" he asked the nurse, making the subtle suggestion that she should return to her station.
"I suppose so." Gladys agreed.
Doctor Swenson leaned against the wall and flipped through the notes on his clipboard.
"Are you going to tell me how Mister French is doing or not?" asked Sissy after a few minutes of silence.
"How old are you?" the doctor asked. "I only want to know so I can gauge how much medical terminology to throw at you at once."
"Fourteen." answered Sissy.
Swenson raised an eyebrow and said, "You must be mature for your age then. None of the fourteen-year-olds I know would have come here without an adult."
"Thanks. I think. Not that we had much choice."
"We?"
"My younger siblings are in the waiting room."
The doctor rubbed his eyes and said, "Great. Now I guess I can answer your question." Sissy looked at him expectantly. "He is going to be all right, in time. Mister French has two broken bones in his left leg, which has been encased in a plaster cast. His left wrist has given indications of a severe sprain. He has had ... a number of stitches due to a series of cuts caused when his face made contact with the windshield of the vehicle that struck him. Another result of this contact is a mild concussion in the area of ... well, you don't need to know that ... and a somewhat more serious contrecoup injury that is the result of hitting the pavement." Swenson explained to her. "Do you understand all that?" he asked.
"Most of it. But you didn't really say how he's doing." said Sissy.
"He is currently unconscious."
"Does that mean I can't see him?"
"No, it just means that he can't see you." said Doctor Swenson, motioning for her to follow him down the hall.
The hospital room was almost dark inside, lit only by a pale fluorescent light over the bed inside and the softer glow of the city lights through the blinds. Doctor Swenson lingered at the door, watching Sissy with some vague interest as he pretended to study his clipboard. She was awfully brave, awfully together for someone so young.
Sissy set her bags down near the door and cautiously approached the bed with a combination of curiosity and trepidation.
The figure on the bed had a bandage over much of the left side of his face, hiding any sign of stitches or even bruising. It was only when Sissy was close enough to note the slight pallor of French's skin and the intravenous needles in his arm that she began to feel light-headed. She grasped the half-rail at the edge of the bed until the dizziness passed. It was the hideous gray hospital gown that made him look so much paler, she decided, and the needles were there for a good reason. Sissy felt giddy again and grasped the railing even more tightly. There was no denying it. Mister French looked as though he had been hit by a bus.
"How long is he going to be like this?" asked Sissy, glancing over her shoulder at the shadowy figure in the doorway.
"He isn't in a coma, if that's what you're asking. He will probably regain consciousness within the next six to twelve hours." answered Swenson.
"We need to stay here tonight, my brother and sister and me. Is that all right?"
"You need to stay because you don't have anywhere else to go or because you want to stay with him?"
"Is there a right answer to that question?" asked Sissy, releasing her death-grip on the railing and turning around to face Doctor Swenson.
"No, I was just curious. Gladys would never let me forget it if I turned three kids out like that. She's been here since the fifties. She remembers how things were back then. Families, hospital stays, cots on the floor. That sort of thing. But I want it to be understood that neither Gladys nor I will stand for you or your siblings disturbing the other patients or running amok in this ward."
"Right. Sounds good." Sissy nodded, surprised that the doctor was willing to allow them to stay. She had expected him possibly to call child and family services or at best let them come back in the morning.
"Then go and collect your siblings while I have a word with Gladys about the sleeping arrangements." said Swenson with a soft smile.
The twins were dutifully reading their school books when Sissy returned to the waiting room. They looked up from the book they were sharing as Sissy sat down in a chair across from them.
"We're going to stay here and I need you guys to be extra good tonight, all right?" she told them.
"Does that mean Mister French is staying here too?" asked Jody.
"That's right." nodded Sissy, not quite sure what to tell them or how. "If you two pack up your book bags, we can go see him now." she said.
Sissy was never quite sure if the twins liked Mister French, at least not until they began throwing things into their backpacks at record speeds, obviously eager to see him. She only smiled and hoped that they wouldn't freak out when they saw him. Buffy and Jody were just six after all and didn't have her experience with hospitals, limited though it was.
But her fears proved to be mostly unfounded as the runts dashed to the side of the hospital bed and, using their indoor voices, of course, began daring each other to poke him. While not an activity to be encouraged, especially with a nurse near at hand setting up an old rickety cot, it was a far cry from Sissy's own experience of dizziness or the freak-out that she feared from them.
"Stop that!" she whispered.
"Oh, don't bother trying to stop them, dear. It would be a great help if the tikes woke him up." chuckled Gladys as she made up a cot for the two runts to share.
"What happened to him?" asked Jody, looking at the huge cast on French's leg.
"He was hit by a car ... on his way home this afternoon ..." answered Sissy.
"Is he gonna let us sign his cast?" he asked.
"Um ... we'll have to ask him in the morning." replied his older sister.
"Mrs. Beasly says that Mister French looks sick." said Buffy.
"Now, now, children," clucked Gladys, "I don't think he'd would like you saying that at all. It's probably just the lighting."
Buffy looked skeptical.
"Yeah," agreed Sissy, understanding what the older lady was trying to do, "and I bet he'll look just fine in the morning when all the lights are on and its all sunny outside."
"I expect it's time for all of you to get some rest." said the night nurse, pointing Sissy in the direction of a chair in the corner with a pile of blankets on it.
Gladys turned the fluorescent light down after they settled in and closed the door, softly chuckling at the three youngsters and their exceptionally lucky older 'friend'.
"Sissy?" questioned Buffy in the dark.
"What?"
"Do we have to go to school tomorrow?"
"You're not getting out of school this easily." she laughed, trying to get comfortable in her chair.
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A/N: Please review! I just want to know if I should keep posting this or not. Please?