Have a Little Faith
By:
boxers-or-briefs3
Sirens screeching. Red and blue lights flashing, painting the faces of the innocent bystanders. Watchers. Just watching, curiously. Whispers escape their lips, inaudible. The aftermath of the accident remained in the street as the young woman that the boy of seventeen loved deeply -- had loved her for almost all of his adolescent years -- was stabilized and strapped onto a stretcher.
The picture faded to gray and all sound was blocked out as the boy, now a young man, observed the sight. An oxygen mask covered the girl's mouth and nose. Navy blue straps crossed over her slender body, holding her tightly to the board. He loved this girl. He let this happen to her. He had been in the same vehicle and he had gotten away unscathed. How? How was that possible?
All color and sound came back with a strong force-- had it been physical, it would've have knocked him off his feet. The stretcher that held his love had been loaded into the wailing ambulance. Two paramedics had hopped in the vehicle and were closing the metal doors. The one medic that remained, turned to him, muttering a few words that the boy hardly heard, before getting back into the ambulance himself.
"Sorry, kid. You'll have to follow us."
As the red and white striped ambulance hurtled down the street noisily, the crowd that had gathered began to disperse.
The teen blinked and looked around. He realized that he still stood in the street. He walked over to the dirty gray sidewalk. For the first time, he noticed the Glen Oak P.D. had showed up, investigating the scene.
He didn't even see the silver car pull up in front of him. His eyes were on the officers. One of them he recognized. Kevin Kinkirk. Lucy's husband.
Kevin had seen him, too, and was beginning to pick his way over to him.
"Pete?" A woman's voice. Not Kevin's, although the officer's lips moved.
Peter's eyes shifted to the driver of the car that had parked in front of him. It was his mother. Paris Petrowski.
The middle aged blonde stepped out of her car, closing the door behind her, and embraced her son.
Peter wrapped his arms tightly around his mother, he was a bit taller than her now, and buried his face in her shoulder. Paris was sobbing, afraid that her son had been injured in the accident. When she received the call from Kevin, he had told her that Peter was fine. She just hadn't believed it until now.
"Ahem," Someone had cleared their throat.
Mother and son released each
other and looked at Kevin, who
had appeared beside them.
Kevin looked at Paris. "I'm sorry. I just need to talk with Peter for a second," Kevin glanced at Peter, who nodded.
"I'll be right back," Peter told his mother before stepping aside to talk to Kevin.
Paris smiled sadly before extracting
a tissue from her purse, with which she began to dab at her eyes, careful
of her make-up.
"Out of the way!" A paramedic team had just burst through swinging double doors of the emergency room, wheeling a teenage girl, about sixteen to seventeen years old, on a stretcher.
The nurses and patients that had occupied the narrow hallway only moments before, quickly backed against the wall, allowing the stretcher and medics to pass.
The girl's body jounced as the medics pulled the stretcher, pushed open two doors at the end of the hallway and wheeled her into the operating room.
Strong arms lifted the teen from the stretcher onto the metal operating table.
A doctor called out commands
to nurses as they readied the girl for surgery.
The waiting room was quiet.
No one spoke. No comforting words were offered. No thoughts were shared.
Just silence. Complete and utter silence.
Most of the Camden clan sat on the leather seats of the waiting room. Matt and Sarah wouldn't be in Glen Oak until tomorrow, and Mary wouldn't be in until later that night. She had been able to catch a flight at the last minute. Carlos had decided that he would stay back in New York with their three year old son, Alex. Simon would be arriving the same day as Matt and Sarah.
Really, the only Camdens who were there at the moment were, Eric, Annie, Sam, David, and Lucy.
Eric's knee was bouncing up and down rapidly, a nervous habit that Simon had pointed out a few years back. Annie was seated next to her husband, watching his knee bounce. Lucy, who was sitting with the twins across from their parents, was holding their hands. Sam was on her right side; David on her left.
Everybody wanted to say something comforting. Something encouraging. Yet, nothing was said.
Annie brought her right hand
down on Eric's knee, forcing it to
stop bouncing. A minute more of that and she would've
gone crazy.
Eric glanced at his wife's hand and then at his wife. "I'm sorry. I just want to know if she's okay." he explained.
"I know," Annie said, then whispered,
"We all do."
"You okay?" Paris asked her son as they headed to Glen Oak Community.
"It was my fault," Peter replied softly as he stared out of his window, watching the street lights fly by.
Paris took her eyes off the road for a second to glance at Peter. "Want to tell me how?"
Peter shrugged. "I was driving, so I must've done something wrong."
"Peter, it wasn't your fault. Kevin even told you that," Paris pointed out.
"I guess," Peter spoke the words but didn't sound convinced.
Paris sighed. "It wasn't your fault, Peter. It just something that happened. You didn't do anything wrong."
"Whatever you say, Mom," was Peter's weak response.
Paris finally decided that they didn't have time for this and until Peter saw that Ruthie was okay, he would continue to blame himself. Paris prayed to God that Ruthie was okay. Not only because she loved her, but because Peter loved her. If that girl wasn't okay, Paris didn't know what would become of Peter.
To Peter, Ruthie was his reason
for being here on Earth. She was his only "good" thing to happen to him.
Ruthie had to be alright. She just had to be.
Annie didn't know how long they had been waiting for news about Ruthie. An hour. Two hours. Three.
Paris and Peter Petrowski had arrived only fifteen minutes after the Camdens had gotten there. They hadn't said much but "hello," and "any news?"
Annie checked her watch. It was already ten o' clock. Ruthie should be out of surgery any time now. Annie let her arm drop as she looked around the room.
Lucy and the boys had fallen asleep about an hour ago. Paris had her arm around Peter, who was leaning against her shoulder asleep. Eric was still awake, but his knees, thankfully, were still.
More minutes passed, too many to count, before a doctor finally stepped into the room. Annie felt Eric tense beside her. She blindly reached for his hand, found it, and clutched it, turning her knuckles white.
The doctor wore a white coat that reached below his knees. His hands were encased in white rubber gloves, which he removed as he made his way over to them. He smiled. Annie took that in as a good sign.
"Mr. and Mrs. Camden?" he asked. His voice was warm. Another good sign.
Annie and Eric stood.
"Yes," Eric replied as he shook the hand that was offered to him. Annie shook it as well.
"I'm Dr. Manning, Ruthie's doctor.
The surgery went pretty well.
Ruthie is a very strong girl. We managed to stop
the bleeding. Her muscle tone is good, and with some rehab, the tendons
in her leg should be fine. Overall, she should recover from the surgery
in about a week or so. Maybe more.
"I want her to stay here for a few days. While she made it through the surgery, she isn't completely out of danger yet," Dr. Manning explained.
"So, she's okay? Ruthie's okay?" Annie asked hopefully, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"For the moment, yes," Dr. Manning said. "But we'll have to watch her. If complications occur, that could be it."
"What kind of complications?" Eric asked.
Dr. Manning elaborated. "Infection, bleeding...That sort of thing. Once she wakes up, we'll have to test for concussion, but for now, everything looks good."
"When can we see her?" Eric
asked.
"Tomorrow
morning would be best. She won't be awake until then, anyway. Also, it's
just a standard precaution," Dr. Manning replied.
Annie and Eric nodded, slightly
disappointed. They would have liked to see their daughter, but they were
glad that she was okay.
"I would suggest that you go
home and get some sleep. I can call you if anything happens. But it's only
a suggestion."
Dr. Manning's beeper went off. He checked it, then faced Eric and Annie once more. "I better get going. It was nice meeting you."
"You, too," Annie said and smiled at Dr. Manning. "And thank you."
Dr. Manning smiled once more
before turning on his heels and heading out of the waiting room to answer
his page.
Mary had arrived at the airport
about five minutes ago. She had just come from Luggage Claim and was now
at a pay phone, trying to reach her husband so she could tell him that
she had arrived in Glen Oak.
She pulled fifty cents out
of her pants pocket and dropped the two quarters into the metal box after
picking up the black hand piece. When she received a dial tone, she dialed
her home phone number. Before she got an answer, and operator butted in.
"I'm sorry. The number you are dialing is long distance. Please give me an address to where I can bill the charges."
Mary gave her the address of her home back in New York.
"Thank you. Your call will now be placed."
Mary rolled her eyes and bit her lip as the phone rang once more. She didn't have time for this.
"Come on, Carlos. Pick up," Mary thought at the phone.
The machine came on.
"Hello, you've reached the Ponces. We cannot come to the phone right now, so please leave your name, number and a message, and we'll get back to you."
Mary sighed. "Hey, it's me. I was just calling to say that I made it to Glen Oak okay. Love ya."
Mary hung up the phone and heard
her change clink to the bottom. She lifted her luggage and headed to the
rental car counter.
Annie and Eric had explained to Lucy, and Peter what the doctor said. Sam and David were still asleep. They looked so precious, no one had the heart to wake them.
"So she's going to be alright?"
Peter asked.
"'For the moment' was what
Dr. Manning said," Eric replied.
"He also said that if any complications
occur, there wouldn't be anything he could do," Annie added.
Eric nodded. "So, we all have to pray that Ruthie will be okay and make a full recovery."
The others nodded.
"We can't see her until tomorrow?"
Lucy asked. She desperately wanted to see Ruthie.
"Right," was Annie's reply.
Paris put an arm around Peter.
"We should go home. We can come back tomorrow and see her," Paris said.
Peter sighed. "I guess," he agreed rather reluctantly. "After all, it's not like we can do anything from the waiting room."
Paris nodded. She stood from her seat and walked over to Annie and Eric, who stood also.
Paris hugged Annie first, then Eric. "Our prayers will be with you and Ruthie tonight."
"Thank you," Annie said before
Paris and Peter left the room.
It was around five o' clock AM when the nurse first noticed it. A purplish bump, that looked somewhat like a bruise, had formed on Ruthie's head. The young woman was still out cold.
The nurse had grabbed the call pad from the side of the hospital bed and pressed the red emergency button. In an instant, Dr. Manning appeared.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I think she may have some bleeding around the brain," the nurse explained.
Dr. Manning came to stand by the bed, pulling on a clean pair of rubber gloves. He examined the bump and confirmed the nurse's finding.
"You're right. It must have
just started about an hour ago. Order a CT scan right away."
Mary had arrived at the Camden house about ten minutes ago in her black rental Honda.
She knocked, not wanting to ring the doorbell in case anyone was sleeping. She doubted it. No one answered. For a moment, she wondered if they were still at the hospital.
Mary was about to pick up her luggage once more when the van pulled up in the driveway.
They all met her at the front door. Lucy was carrying Sam and Eric was carrying David while Annie came over to Mary.
Mary hugged her mother while
inquiring about Ruthie. Once more, Annie explained as she helped Mary bring
her bags inside.
The rest of the Camdens had
arrived not long after Mary. Lucy had given the play-by-play to Simon,
Matt and Sarah. Annie and Eric weren't feeling up to it. They were still
in some form of shock that this was really happening. Ruthie was in the
hospital after a life threatening crash. None of them could get over the
fact that Ruthie, their beloved sister and daughter, could die.
No one had gotten any sleep,
despite the fact that they were all exhausted. There was too much going
on. Too many unwanted thoughts and questions.
So here they were, at five
in the morning, seated around the kitchen table, drinking coffee, when
the phone rang.
The sound had made them all jump. Silence had been the only sound that filled the kitchen.
"Who could be calling at this hour?" Annie asked, mostly to herself, tiredly.
She set down her yellow mug, half full with black, steaming, coffee, as she lifted herself from her seat and reached for the screeching phone.
"Hello?" Annie said into the phone. She had been half asleep when she answered, but now she was wide awake. "O-okay, we'll be right there."
When the woman hung up the phone, she noticed all her family's eyes had shifted to her, inquiring about the call.
"That was Ruthie's doctor, Dr. Manning. He said that bleeding occurred around her brain and she needs another surgery to relieve the pressure. There's a chance that she'll slip into a coma," Annie began to sob before continuing. "He said if that happens, her chances of surviving will be slim."
Eric stood and hugged Annie. "She'll be okay. She's strong."
"I could lose my baby," Annie's words were muffled against Eric's shirt.
"You won't," Eric rubbed Annie's
back. "You won't."
White. Everything was white.
White walls. White sky. White ground. White everything. Where this very
white place was, she was not sure, but somehow, she knew she was safe here.
Nothing bad was to happen.
She felt like a little child,
sleeping in a mother's arms. Safe.
But she wasn't dreaming.
Sure, she felt comfortable here, but she was very much awake. Not in the
physical state, mind you, but in her mind. She was awake. Watching. Seeing.
Everything was like a movie in this place. You knew what was going on in
reality. You could see what was taking place as it happened.
She could see her body being
repaired, being cut open and sewn back together. She could see her family,
sitting, waiting for her to come back. Waiting for her to live again. Waiting
for any kind of news; good or bad. She loved them. Loved them all.
That's how it was with the Camdens. Everyone loved each other. Really, they loved everyone. Every single child of God. It didn't matter if they were strangers. They loved them, still.
Here she sat. Watching. Watching
her mother cry for her. Peter, she noticed, was there. Just sitting quietly,
praying for her. He loved her, Peter did. Loved everything about her. Ruthie
considered that a little creepy, but she loved him, too. Sure, he had his
little habits that she frowned upon, but she loved him, nonetheless. She
loved everybody. No matter what.
Dr. Manning walked through the hospital thinking of only one thing. Ruthie Camden. She had taken a turn for the worse, and he didn't know how to break the news to the family. They seemed like such nice people, he didn't know if he had the strength to break their hearts. He had told them that their daughter was okay. Yet now, he didn't know what the outcome would be.
Dr. Manning stepped into the tense waiting room and studied the aging faces of Mr. and Mrs. Camden. They had seen him walk in, were watching him. Waiting. Each second that he didn't speak would be taken as a bad sign. Waiting. But what he had to tell them wasn't exactly good. Waiting. Mrs. Camden's eyes watching him. Studying him. Staring at him. Waiting for him to speak. Simply waiting. Not asking. Not prompting. Just waiting.
Finally, he found his voice. He was surprised that, with all the emotion he was experiencing, it was amazingly even. No cracks. No breaks. Even. Flat. Strange. "I'm sorry. Ruthie has slipped into a coma. It'll take a miracle to save her now," That last part sounded a little uncaring. He cared. He did, really. "You can see her, if you'd like. Room number 135. Down the hall and to the left. Again, I'm sorry."
Dr. Manning turned on his heels and hurried out of the room. He couldn't look at them anymore. Such good people. And now he'd shattered their hearts. Telling them that it would take a miracle to save their daughter.
Why was he so fond of these
Camden people? The number one rule of medicine: don't get attached. Okay,
maybe not the number one rule, but whatever it's number on that long list
of rules, it was there. Just as important as any of the others.
There was no turning back now.
He was attached. For some unknown reason to him, he was attached.
Eric and Annie entered the
room first, fingers interlaced, knuckles white. Annie was shaking. She
was afraid of what she would see. But what she did see, was nothing like
she imagined.
Laying in that uncomfortable,
white, hospital bed, was Ruthie, completely motionless. Unaware. Distant.
Gone. Not dead, just gone.
Bandages were wrapped around her head, hiding most of her pretty brown hair that Annie used to love putting clips and pretty things in. So soft and silky. Ruthie's left leg was encased in a white cast, propped on a white pillow. How come everything was white? It was so boring.
Everything was void of color as Annie dropped Eric's hand and advanced toward Ruthie's bedside. Each motion that she made seemed to be in slow motion; like a photograph was taken for every move she made. Annie was completely unaware of anything and everything that was happening in the room. The only things that existed were Ruthie and herself.
This couldn't be happening. She refused to believe it. Ruthie had slipped into a coma. Not possible. No. Any minute now, Ruthie would open her eyes and smile. Perhaps she could manage a few words.
No words.
Only the soft beep of the heart monitor.
Ruthie's eyes remained closed. Her mouth stayed in the frowning position, lips dry and chapped.
This had to be a dream then. Annie would be the one to wake up. But when she didn't she became a little panicked.
Eric was at her side, now. His hand rested lightly on her shoulder. He was worried. Not only about Ruthie, but about Annie and the rest of the family as well. What would they do without Ruthie? Would they even be a family anymore?
He refused to answer himself. They were ridiculous questions to ask. Negative. He couldn't afford to be negative. No one could. Ruthie's life was on the line. They couldn't afford to give that up. Never.
Eric removed his hand from his wife's shoulder and placed it over Ruthie's hand that rested on the bed.
"Ruthie, Sweetie. I'm not sure if you can hear me, but we need you to pull through this. We love you. We want you to come home with us. Come back. We need you to be here."
Tears were clouding Eric's vision. He loved her. Ruthie was his daughter. His baby. One of his babies. He could never give any one of them up. Ever.
His children were what kept
him going. If he didn't have them, or even one of them, how drastically
his life would change. If Ruthie died, his life, his world, would cease
to exist.
Ruthie felt tears on her
face. She didn't like being here anymore. She didn't feel safe. Ruthie
wanted her mother to hold her. She wanted to be in her real mother's arms.
Then there was Dad. He was
giving his monologue now. Holding her hand in his, keeping it warm. She
wanted to be able to grasp his large hand back. Wanted to squeeze it the
way she did when she was younger.
Daddy's girl. Forever.
"....We need you to be here
with us...." Eric was saying.
Ruthie felt a tear drop off
her face. "But I am here, Daddy."
A coma. His sister had slipped into a coma. How could this be happening? Bad things happened every once in a while, sure, but this? Never. Nothing like this had ever happened before. The closest thing to this, would have been when Mary got hit by that car. But even that was no where near this. Mary hadn't been in a coma, but Ruthie was.
He saw his parents when they had stepped into room 135. They were slowly being ripped apart each second that Ruthie wasn't awake. Each second that she stayed locked away. They were being shaken to their very core. His mother was, at least. His dad was better with controlling emotions.
What if she never woke up? Would she stay in a coma for years? How long would she have before she died?
What if she did wake up? They would all rejoice for their beloved sister was saved. Hardly. Sure, they would be happy, but if Ruthie did come back, would she be the same Ruthie Camden that they all knew and loved? Or would she have some sort of brain damage that prevented her from being that Ruthie Camden?
So much to think about. If there was brain damage when she wakes up, it would be a lose-lose situation.
He loved his sister to death,
he just needed to be real about this. Didn't want to get his hopes up too
high, so that if she did come crashing down, he wouldn't be surprised.
But it was hard. That kid was an important part of his life and if she
did come crashing down, his heart would go down with her.
Why did God have to do this
to them, to him, now? Simon Camden used to be the luckiest kid in the world.
And now, his luck had run out.
Dr. Manning had, once again,
entered that gloomy room. Room 135. Ruthie Camden. He couldn't get her
off his mind. She was just so....familiar. The shape of her face. The color
of her hair -- he had just realized why he had been so attached to the
Camdens. It wasn't a good realization either.
Ruthie Camden reminded him
of a young girl. Her name had been Leah.
Leah had been transported to the hospital, much like Ruthie had, after being stabbed by her father, who was drunk and was a real bastard in general. His name had been Earl Elliot. Earl Elliot was Dr. Manning's brother-in-law. Leah had been his niece. She died from blood loss and the knife had punctured a few major arteries. Leah had been so precious. Such a nice girl.
Ruthie looked amazingly similar
to Leah. He just hadn't seen it before now. Ruthie was such a pretty little
thing and was dearly loved by her family. He couldn't bear to lose her,
too.
Ruthie tried to make herself go back. She honestly tried. The thing was, she just didn't know how.
She wanted to be back there
with her family so badly. Ruthie was also afraid that if she stayed in
the "white" place too long, that she would be gone forever. She didn't
want to die. There were too many things that she wanted to do with her
life.
She wanted to get married,
start a family. But she wanted to do something bigger than that. Wanted
to do something world changing. Perhaps become the first woman president,
she didn't know. Just something important. She couldn't do anything from
where she was now.
Ruthie had to get back. She just had to.
Ruthie closed her eyes and sighed, concentrating on her father's words from the previous day.
"We need you to pull through
this."
"We love you."
"We want you to come home with us."
"Come back."
"We need you to be here."
"I love you, Dad." Ruthie said.
She suddenly felt free. Like she was experiencing life for the first time. It was exhilarating. Felt like she could run without stopping. Like she could fly without wings.
Then the feeling vanished.
She was back in her body. And back in pain. But she was glad to be back.
She moved. She definitely moved. Annie saw it. Ruthie was back!
"Eric! Eric, wake up! Ruthie's waking up!" Annie screamed.
Eric stirred. He and Annie had been resting on an old leather couch that was in the room. Matt, Sarah, Mary, Lucy, Simon, and the twins were all sprawled in other chairs that had been brought in by the hospital personnel.
Dr. Manning was paged and quickly reported to the room. Ruthie had, indeed, pulled through the coma, and was slowly awakening. It was, in Dr. Manning's eyes, a miracle.
He had Ruthie transported out of the room to test for brain damage and a concussion.
Annie and Eric had their arms wrapped around each other as they waited in the room for Ruthie to come back. They were scared that Ruthie would have something else wrong, but so happy that she was awake.
The kids were smiling. Ruthie
had pulled through. Dr. Manning was right: Ruthie is a strong girl.
It was a few hours before Ruthie was wheeled back into the room. One thing was different. Peter and Paris had joined the clan, anxious to hear the results. Ruthie was still a little groggy, but conscious.
Dr. Manning stepped into the
room after the nurses had left. He was smiling.
"There doesn't seem to be any
brain damage. Everything looks good, actually. No concussion, either. Ruthie
is a very lucky girl. She will be released in few days."
"Thank you, Dr. Manning, for saving my little girl," Annie said, tears in her eyes.
Dr. Manning just smiled and left the room.
Annie walked over to Ruthie. The rest of the family, Paris and Peter gathered around the bed.
"Hey, Baby," Annie kissed Ruthie's forehead.
"Hi, Mom," Ruthie's voice was soft, sleepy.
"I love you so much," Annie
was crying again as she gave Ruthie a light hug.
Ruthie smiled. "I love you,
too. All of you."
Eric grabbed Ruthie's hand, the one that was free of the IV, and kissed it. He, too, had tears. The Camden's were a very weepy bunch.
"We thought we were going to lose you," Eric said.
Ruthie laughed a little. "Just
have a little faith, Reverend." She closed her eyes and sighed. "Have a
little faith."
THE END
A/N: That's it. I don't think I'm going to write anymore. Unless, or course, you want a sequel. ;) Anyway, I've been working on this for a while....My fist standalone. Like it? It feels good to finally finish it. Yay!! ::Celebrates::
Please remember to REVIEW. If you don't REVIEW....no sequel (only if you want one).
Ciao,
Carrie