Chapter 14

Sunday, June 7, 1987

Swallowing against the hardness of something in her throat, Julie tried to open her eyes. She felt groggy and her chest hurt.

"Juliet Lynn Parrish," said a monotone, masculine voice, "I lay my hands upon you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, beseeching our Lord Jesus Christ to sustain you with his presence, to drive away all sickness of body and spirit, and to give you that victory of life and peace which will enable you to serve him both now and evermore. Amen."

The man's cold thumb pressed against her forehead, tracing the sign of the cross.

"Juliet Lynn Parrish," he continued. "I anoint you with oil in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."

Am I dying? Julie glanced at the green plastic tube, protruding from her mouth, connected to a ventilator machine at her bedside. What happened to me?

She stared into the clerical collared man's lenticular-shaped chestnut eyes. Julie's gaze shifted to a woman's aged hands clutching rosary beads, to her moving, fish puckered lips, praying silently.

Mom?

"As you are outwardly anointed with this holy oil," the priest said. "So may our heavenly Father grant you the inward anointing of the Holy Spirit. Of his great mercy, may he forgive you your sins, release you from suffering, and restore you to wholeness and strength. May he deliver you from all evil, preserve you in all goodness, and bring you to everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

It's not my time yet. Julie remembered Ruby Engel's words to her.

Was I in heaven?... Did I die already?... Who was the little boy with Ruby?

Julie's eyelids grew heavy as sleep sucked her back into its depths.

#

Peering through the glass partition, Steve watched Father Mahoney of Immaculate Heart Church complete the ritual. After a brief visit to Julie's room earlier, Connie had frantically searched the phone book for the nearest priest willing to come to Julie's side.

Please God, if you're there, don't take her from me. I need her. Raised in the Baptist church, yet embittered by his father's abandonment at an early age, Steve grew up doubting God's personal involvement in an individual's life.

Joining Steve at the window, Maggie asked. "How is she?"

"About the same. Is Donovan with you?"

She shook her head. "I couldn't reach him this morning."

"Maybe he jumped off the Santa Monica Pier," Steve muttered under his breath.

Connie stepped out into the hall, followed by Father Mahoney.

"Mrs. Parrish, I'm so sorry." Maggie drew Julie's mother into her skinny arms.

Connie held onto her for a moment. "Thank you so much for coming. I know Juliet's going to survive this now that Father Mahoney prayed for her." She winked at the priest. "Thank you."

"I'll check back in later," he said, then left.

Connie tucked the rosary beads into her handbag. A nurse with long, French-braided hair, who'd introduced herself to Steve as Ann yesterday, approached Connie.

"Doctor Akers would like to brief you on Julie's condition now," she said.

"Can they come?" Connie gestured to Maggie and Steve.

"Of course," Ann replied.

Steve followed Ann, Connie and Maggie down a brightly lit hallway, past several unoccupied ICU rooms, to a partially opened door. Ann pushed it open.

Behind a small, mahogany desk, Joe Akers reached for Connie's hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parrish. I am Dr. Joe Akers."

"How do you do?" Connie released his hand, then sat in one of the two cushioned chairs, motioning for Maggie to take the other. Steve leaned against the wall near the door.

Joe skimmed through a medical chart and addressed Connie. "Your daughter's right lung collapsed after we brought her out of surgery yesterday. Her latest chest x-ray shows the pneumothorax taking up about seventy-two percent of the lung."

Speak English so she can understand, thought Steve.

Steve recalled Julie's complaints that Connie had never showed interest in her fascination with medical science.

"We placed her on a preventative antibiotic yesterday afternoon," Joe added. "Any injury to the bronchial cavity can lead to infection. On that note, she's had quite a bit of congestion since last evening. So much that it's interfering with the ventilator's functioning ability." He looked at Steve. "I don't know if you were aware of her having any recent illnesses."

"I worked with her on Friday. She was fine," Steve said.

"She was okay when I picked up CJ yesterday morning too." Maggie glanced over her shoulder at Steve. "And Donovan didn't mention her being sick either."

Joe jotted something down on his chart. "I need to speak with Donovan about some things too. He was the last person with Julie when she was injured."

Steve saw Connie roll her eyes.

"I also have a few questions for Mr. Donovan," she said.

"Maggie said he couldn't be reached," Steve said.

"That was over an hour ago," Maggie reminded. "He missed his appointment with his kid yesterday. Maybe he went to go visit him. I'm sure he'll check in. I know he's concerned about Julie."

"The deal is," Steve glared at her, "We didn't want anyone with the media involved."

"Who is we?" Maggie addressed Joe instead of Steve. "Her mother is here now, so you can let her make that decision."

She concurs with me, Steve mused.

"Mrs. Parrish." Joe looked at Connie. "Your daughter's name and medical condition were not released to the press. I need your permission."

"Go ahead," Connie said, her eyes brimming with tears. "I want the public to know who she is. And I want that Pico bastard to pay for what he did to her!"

Steve placed his hand on her shoulder. Touching his arm, she pressed her wet face against it.

I know you love Julie as much as I do, thought Steve, grateful to have a confidante.