Vulture Chapter Three, a dollanganger saga fanfic

"VULTURE" by Alessandra Azzaroni

STORY LAST UPDATED ON 05/02/2003

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Written in Australia. Sovereign Hill, Ballarat, is a real place in the state of Victoria in Australia.

CHAPTER THREE

After the events that happened, it's no wonder I can't really remember the New Year's party I went to. I can't remember who I talked to, what I did, what I said. I just remember that as my mother dropped me off at Jenny Window's house, she said that she'd come to pick me up when I called. I felt bad about making her stay up so late, especially because she was pregnant, and therefore I thought strict precautions had to be taken to make sure her and the baby were both completely healthy. I even said that my father could pick me up, or I could get a lift home with someone else, but she seemed adamant to be the one to take me home. I still don't know why.
I wasn't one to stay up late, mainly because I was bored, and a little lonely. So at about half past midnight, I found a quiet space in the garden outside the little fence-gate around the pool. I used my mobile phone to call home. My mother answered, and said that she and my father would both come to pick me up. My mother really wanted to come by herself, but my father wouldn't let her.
I waited on a chair in the front yard, watching a game of street cricket. I don't know how long I waited there. After one o'clock came by and no one had come for me, I even bowled a few overs in the cricket game, and had an over batting before I was caught out.
I watched as others were collected in cars, and still I wasn't. Then I got the Dreaded Call.

Call me from the grave and reassure me you're alive
For otherwise I'll fear that you're never coming back

"Hello?" I answered, once I saw that it was a private number.
"Is this Lisa Camberwell?" a masculine voice with an Indian accent asked.
"That's correct."
"This is Dr Maharaj of Rexton Hospital in the obstetrics ward. Your mother, Joan Camberwell, is here."
"Oh," I said, surprised. "Well, I'm sure my father can pick me up and take me to the hospital."
"He can't, I'm afraid. We can arrange for a member of the local police force to collect you, but we'll need the address."
I rattled off Jenny's address, and the doctor assured me that a car would come by in about ten minutes.
I was worried about my mother. We weren't close or anything, but she was my mother. And being in the hospital was bad, because she was far too early in her pregnancy. I only prayed that she would get through the trouble all right. I didn't know the baby, and so I had no attachment to it. Sure, I'd prefer it if it would live, but I wouldn't be too upset if it died, just as long as my mother made it through alive.
The police cars nowadays were standard dark blue sedans. The light that could flash and ring out was what separated them from other cars. Obviously, I didn't need to be at the hospital so badly that the police had the flashing light and siren going.
The street cricket game had finished a while ago, so the car came down Edward Avenue without a hitch. I saw the white headlights appear, and the car stopped in front of the house. Some of the people left at the party looked at me strangely as I hurried towards the car, but they didn't seem bothered enough to ask me about it, and the empty beer, wine and spirits bottles around them signalled that they probably couldn't think of the words to say.
The car stopped, left its lights on, and a man emerged from the driver's seat. I couldn't properly see what he looked like in the dark of the very early morning, but I saw the navy blue uniform with the Victoria Police badge shining in the streetlight.
I went over to the man. "I'm Lisa Camberwell, and I was told I'd be picked up by the police to go to Rexton Hospital."
"I'm Constable Milicci with the Rexton Police," he introduced, though he didn't waste time shaking hands. He came over and unlocked the passenger door. "You can sit up front."
We didn't talk much on the way to the hospital. I had a feeling that he wouldn't speak unless I did. I desperately wanted to ask him if everything was okay, if my mother and my not-yet-born sibling were both alive and my father's whereabouts known. However, I knew that the hospital would have that information. They probably had only sent a cop car over to pick me up because no one else could.
Actually, it was surprising that a cop car was actually available to pick me up. Surely there'd be stacks of New Year's brawls and riots all over the world as each place struck midnight, got into the alcohol and went wild. (And I later found out that this was true, especially on the Gold Coast up in Queensland.)
"Quiet night?" I asked as we went down the highway.
"In this suburb, yes," Constable Milicci replied, but he added no other information.
Maybe fatigue and low light affected me, because I forgot my surroundings until I saw the Rexton Hospital come into view. I had only been there for the occasional volunteer work I did a few times a year. I'd never been there at this time of morning, though. But it was still the same white brick building with brown bits, five storeys in some places and only three in others.
There were plenty of spots free in the car park that was closest to the obstetrics ward, one of the three-storey places. In fact, I thought that the other cars in the lot probably only belonged to the staff. It made me wonder where my parents' Holden Commodore was… not that I was paying all that much attention to the cars in the lot. My thinking usually went on strange plights when I needed sleep.
The inside of the hospital was glaring white brightly in contrast to the midnight-blue darkness (minus the streetlights) of outside. I thought that my eyes must've resembled those of someone with a hangover, desperate to block out the brightness with sunglasses. But now was not the time for something like that.
Some of the hospital's staff nodded in greeting to Constable Milicci, and I followed him down the corridor to the lift like a lost soul looking for guidance.
As we got off the lift on the top level, the third, a nurse called out from the reception desk the number of a room in which we were to go to, but I didn't really take it in. I just followed the constable.
The man who I guessed was Dr Maharaj met us outside the room. "Lisa Camberwell?" he checked. When I nodded, he gestured to some nearby white plastic chairs. "I think we should talk before you go in." So I sat down in one of the chairs, and waited patiently to hear what this was all about.
"On the drive to the hospital," he began, "there were a lot of reckless drivers on the road. And in one street, there was a race going down the hill."
"P-platers," I murmured. I had a friend who lived on Horden Road, the place on the hill, and they always talked about the P-platers screeching down at all hours in their little red cars.
"Your parents were unaware of this," the doctor continued, "and your father, who was driving, braked suddenly. This, unexpectedly, caused a pile-up, as a few cars just happened to be behind. But instead of just crashing into the back, the car was actually pushed into the intersection - and before the racers could stop, they both crashed side-on to the car. They had been taking up both lanes."
I immediately feared that both my parents were dead, my father certainly. I knew where Horden Road was in relation to where Jenny lived, so I knew the side the car would be hit on - the driver's. He had to be dead. But what about my mother? If she had died, surely she wouldn't be in the obstetrics ward.
And shouldn't I be crying right about now?
No. I didn't cope well when bad things happened, so I didn't have emotions. I had nothingness, emptiness, a void, but that was it. So I didn't cry.
"Matthew Camberwell died instantly," Dr Maharaj continued. "A local saw what happened and called for an ambulance. Joan Camberwell was taken here, and she was haemorrhaging." He sighed. "She miscarried, and as you can imagine, she's not taking it well. We've given her a light sedative, so she's sleeping now."
I was almost afraid to speak, but I couldn't stay silent forever. "Can I see her?"
"You can watch her sleep. We'll leave you alone." The doctor stood up. "Would you like a blanket, pillow, drink?"
I stood up. "No thank you." I saw that Constable Milicci must've been long gone.
Dr Maharaj opened the door, and I saw my mother sleeping. She was breathing, I could see, but she had a tortured look on her face. I feared she was dreaming, having a nightmare about what had happened. I wanted to wake her up, to take her away from the hellhole that was the silver screen of her own mind.
But I couldn't. She would see me, her alive child… and be reminded that her other child was dead.

Two out of three isn't bad, for one did not die
How come she was the one death managed to defy?