Part Two: Chapter Five

September 23, 1985

The dining room was fixated in an anxious hush, a quiet so intense Sara thought she might burst. Jill and Frankie stood side by side against the wall, Jill's hands on her hips, Frankie's thick arms folded. Sara sat uncomfortably at the dining room table along with Meg, Mike, and Taylor. Mike and Taylor were fidgeting silently and Meg was apparently trying to look at her nose as her legs swung back and forth.

Sara broke the silence with a quick, soft, sigh, leaning back in her chair as she did so. The others turned their gazes to her for an instant then turned back to their previous activities. Sara looked down at her hands, listening to the gentle, quiet, tick-tock of the kitchen clock. Suddenly, the phone rang, startling everyone out of their silent trance.

"I'll get it," mumbled Jill in a low, dangerous voice not at all her normal one. She walked out of the room towards the kitchen, where the phone was located.

Frankie sighed heavily and seemed to droop somewhat where he leaned against the wall.

Sara listened intently to hear the conversation in the next room.

"Yes this is…Of course…Yes…Oh-no…We…Yes of course but…Yes…Yes…All right…We'll be right there." A click signaled the end of the call and Jill swept back into the room. She whispered something quickly to Frankie, who listened with a nod or whisper here or there, then resumed her roost at the wall, staring threateningly around the table.

"I have something your father and I would like to show you." she hissed. She bent down to the ground, the next second returning with the black bag Sara found earlier.

"Did any of you know about this?" Frankie asked sternly, his normally laughing eyes dark and menacing. They shook their heads.

"What is it?" Meg asked curiously, attempting to get a better look.

"It's something very, very naughty." Jill muttered, taking a hand and gently pushing Meg's interested nose away from the bag. "It's called 'weed' or 'pot' and I don't want any of you to ever come near something like this."

The silence presumed.

"Who was on the phone?" Sara managed to ask softly, staring unblinkingly at the black bag, the bag she found, the bag of dirt that was causing so much trouble for being such a trivial thing at first sight.

Jill's eyes seemed to take on yet another appearance and she croaked, looking away from Sara, "That was the ER. They have Derek in intensive care. He was in a car accident."

"What!" Sara shouted.

"We're going to the police station to get rid of this bag then we're going straight to the hospital." Frankie grunted in a not-nearly-as-cheery-as-normal voice.


Their small van pulled into the dark hospital parking lot. Jill and Frankie exited instantly, each grabbing hold of one of the twins' hands. Sara grabbed Meg's and they entered the tall white building together.

Sara hated hospitals. They always brought back horrid memories of her past. Every whitewashed wall brought back memories and every whiff of bleach brought back more. Her grip tightened on Meg's hand and the little girl squeezed back nervously.

Jill and Frankie continued to hold onto Mike and Taylor (Probably so they wouldn't run off in opposite directions) as they walked up through the waiting room and straight to the secretary's desk.

"We're here to see 'Derek Nelson'." Jill said clearly, articulating every word with a special hint of anger. "He was involved in a car crash this evening."

The secretary, who was rather old with glasses and a flower-patterned dress, licked her finger and began paging through documents.

"Derek…" she mumbled to herself. "Derek Keller…Derek Hanson…Ah, Derek Nelson. He's in room 154, recovering from several fractures and a concussion. I'll call the doctor and ask him if you can visit." She picked up the phone by her side and quickly dialed a queue of numbers. She spoke quickly, then hung up with a brisk "Good-bye Doctor,"

"You can go see him." was all she said before turning to the person behind them.

Mr. and Mrs. Nelson dragged Mike and Taylor along, their strides large, and the twins jogging to keep up. Sara and Meg followed quietly as the others stormed down the hallway. When the reached room 154, Frankie knocked roughly then swung the door open, striding quickly into the room. Sara and Meg caught up with them and peeked around the corner of the door.

Sara had to gulp back a gasp when she saw what lay inside. Derek was lying on a white bed, casts over his right leg and left arm, his eyes closed. An IV was in his arm and a monitor was beeping steadily next to him. Frankie and Jill were standing side-by-side, arms around each other as they looked down at their son. Mike and Taylor, for once, were quietly sitting in a corner, and Sara and Meg went to join them.

Derek didn't move, his eyes remaining closed, the monitor continuing to beep steadily. Jill reached out to his hand and stroked it gently, as though hoping he would wake up. He didn't.

Hours of anxiety passed, the atmosphere much the way it was in the dining room back home. Mike, Taylor, and Meg, proceeded to several games of rock paper scissors. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson switched places by Derek's bedside and a chair next to Sara. At approximately midnight, a tall doctor opened the door into the room, startling everyone out of their activities.

"Hello, I'm doctor Maag. I'd like to speak with the parents please."

Frankie and Jill shared a glance, then followed the doctor out of the room. Meg and the twins were asleep and Sara was still sitting quietly in the chair she first sat in. The room was still deafeningly silent besides the beeping of the monitor. Suddenly, just as Sara was beginning to nod off, Derek's hand flexed.

"Derek?" Sara whispered, not wanting to wake the others.

He didn't respond.

She strode up to him and placed a hand on his, caressing it gently, praying for him to wake up. A few minutes later, Derek's eyes fluttered open weakly and he managed to mumble a "Sara,"

Sara beamed. At least he was awake now.

"I'm sorry." he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"For what?"

"For missing your birthday. I should have listened to you."

"It's no big deal. There's something more important."

Derek's face seemed riddled with confusion.

"I found…umm…some 'weed' Mom called it."

Derek looked startled.

"I know, I'm sorry," Sara muttered quietly, "They say you're going to go away as soon as you're better but—"

"No, no." Derek hissed, "Did you just call her 'Mom'?"

"Oh…" Sara blinked. "Yeah, yeah I did."

"But about my…you know…the bag."

"I'm really sorry. We were playing hide-and-seek and I didn't know and—"

Derek raised his hand to touch hers and quieted her.

"Don't be sorry. I should be sorry."

Sara looked away, then back again. "How did the accident happen?"

"My friends had been drinking. I didn't though so I was the only one who buckled up.' He closed his eyes. "I'm also the only one who lived."

"I'm sorry," Sara whispered.

"Don't be."


The family spent several more hours in the hospital, Sara switching between Derek's side, the chair, and sleep, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson taking turns with restroom escorts, Mike and Taylor being strangely quiet, and Meg attempting to read the magazines.

At 5:00 a.m., Frankie came back from taking Mike to the bathroom.

"Sara, could you come here please," he muttered in a grave voice as Mike walked over to Taylor's side.

Sara stood up and walked over to him, pondering what he could possibly want her for that was so solemn. He gripped her arm and pulled her gently outside of the room and into the hallway.

"Now Sara," he began, still quite un-cheerful. "There's something wrong with Derek."

"No, really?" she muttered sarcastically. He glared at her, his beady eyes definitely not laughing. "Sorry…"

"It's all right. Sometimes it's best to make a laugh out of things, but not things this serious. Derek has internal bleeding. He needs surgery."

"What can I do to help?" Sara asked.

"You see…the thing is, this surgery costs a lot of money; money we don't have."

"You need help earning the money?"

"Well, you see, it'd be easier for us to get the money if…" He trailed off quietly

"If what?" Sara asked.

"If we didn't have as many kids to take care of."

Sara blinked.

"We received a call from somebody, a relative of yours."

"Relative?" Sara couldn't think of any of her relatives right off the bat.

"Your Aunt…Emily I think she said her name was, and your Uncle—"

"Leroy," Sara muttered, disgust etching her words. The last time she saw Uncle Leroy and Auntie Em was one night when she was nine and her Dad brought her to their house to watch the game. It really was a trash heap, beer bottles everywhere, the floor a giant crumb pile from all the chips her uncle ate. Auntie Em was a small, sharp, yet frail woman who spent most, if not all, of her time attempting to tend the house, whether it be by clearing her husband's table to set down some fresh food, or vacuuming his chair when he actually showed signs of movement (a.k.a. using the restroom).

"Right, your Uncle Leroy." Frankie fell silent as a squad of nurses passed. When they were gone, he spoke up again. "They contacted your mother in jail. She wants you to go live with them."

"What!" Sara exclaimed. Live with Leroy and Em? No! They lived in a pigsty! Yes, the Nelson's did too, but it wasn't dirt that was the problem, it was the toys that littered the ground. You could easily just kick them out of your way, but at her aunt and uncle's house, the crumbs on the floor caused an uneasy feeling as you made your way through the house. Uncle Leroy was fat, lazy, and bossy, and Auntie Em was submissive, tall, thin, and wispy, always falling into Leroy's commands. When Sara was there, she was curious as to whether or not Auntie Em actually had a say in their marriage.

"There's something else you should know. Your mother wants to meet with you, at the jailhouse."

"Meet with me?" Sara asked disbelievingly.

"Yes Sara, meet with you."

Sara glanced down to the ground then back up to Frankie again.

"When am I leaving?"

Frankie sighed, "Tomorrow. We need the money as soon as possible and Leroy and Emily want you right away."

"Tomorrow?" Sara cried.

"You'll have time to say good-bye and pack and everything. The meeting with your mom is a week later."

He leaned forward and gave her a tight squeeze.

"We'd really like to keep you, we really would, but if you don't go, Derek will die."

Sara gulped as the words hit her. 'If you don't go, Derek will die'

"I'm going to miss you," She gulped as that stupid lump crept its way up her throat.

Frankie continued to hold her, remaining silent for what seemed like minutes. It took Sara a few seconds to figure out that Frankie, a grown man, was crying on her shoulder. Sara returned the hug and allowed a single tear to fall.

"I'm going to miss you too." he finally sniffed, "We're all going to miss you."

End Part Two