Chapter Six

Yeah, I was a gutsy kid, mainly because I was a lonely, very angry kid. Also a lucky one, to find a secretary sympathetic enough to get me through to Uncle Oscar. That poor man! I accused him of everything imaginable, short of murdering Mom and Dad himself. Actually, I think I accused him of that, too...

Oscar spent nearly 40 minutes on the phone with Jenna, listening while she cried, screamed, pleaded and accused. He considered calling her father to the phone, but Steve was almost as fragile emotionally as Jaime was physically. Instead, Oscar gently told the child that her parents were working at a Peace Corps-type job in an area with no phone service. He didn't like lying to her, but he knew this was a situation where the truth would do more harm than good.

Ok - my parents...Missionaries? Something else was going on, something bad, but I'd never even heard of the OSI, and while I couldn't picture them as missionaries, I definitely never suspected they were spies. Oops - I mean operatives.

That afternoon, while Rudy was running tests to look (again) for anything he may have missed that could be causing Jaime's continued coma, Oscar found Steve and decided to level with him.

"Hey, Pal, Jaime'll be down there at least a good hour. How about some fresh air? We can stretch our legs, and talk."

"I don't think -" Steve began.

"Sunlight'll do you good, and besides, I need to talk to you." Once they were outside, Oscar was no longer sure he was doing the right thing, but he plunged ahead. "I had a phone call this morning -"

"Ok," Steve answered tensely. "And you're telling me this - now - why?"... I'm sorry, Oscar. I'm just -"

"Don't worry about it; I understand. Pal...the phone call...it was Jenna."

"What happened? What's wrong?"

"She's alright," Oscar told him. "Well, she's not hurt or sick, anyhow."

"Tell me - please! What's wrong with my daughter?"

"She's scared - and hurt - because she hasn't heard from either of you in almost eight weeks. I told her you were both doing charity work and nowhere near a phone, but you'd try to call soon."

Steve nodded. "Thanks, Oscar." He didn't ask why he hadn't been called to the phone; there was no explanation needed. They were on their way back inside when Jaime's nurse burst out the door.

"Come quick!"

Steve made record time back to the cubicle. Jaime had been returned to her bed and Rudy was by her side. Her eyes were closed, but she was moving! Rudy stepped aside to allow Steve to move closer.

"Is she awake, Rudy?"

"No. But, in non-medical terms, she seems to have chosen today to try to come back to us."

"Steve..." a very faint, weak voice cried from the bed.

"Jaime?" He sat on the edge of her bed and eagerly took her hand. "Can you hear me, Sweetheart?" He looked up at Rudy questioningly.

Rudy shrugged. "It's possible. Go ahead - keep talking." He signalled to Oscar and the two men left the cubicle, closing the door to give Steve some privacy. Rudy kept a close eye on the remote monitors, alert for any changes in Jaime's condition.

Steve reached out and brushed the hair from his wife's face. He caressed her cheek and bent down to tenderly kiss her forehead. As he sat up again, he looked down into the most beautiful hazel eyes he'd ever seen, looking right back at him. They had their miracle.

I finally heard from Dad a day or two after I found Uncle Oscar. (I knew it would work; pretty smart, huh?) Mom wasn't with him, but he said she was doing a great job, teaching little kids to read.

Wha-a-at? She has a kid of her own who wouldn't mind a little reading: a letter, or even a card. My childhood angst was about to explode into red-hot, pre-adolescent anger.