Wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I head toward her room at the opposite end of the narrow hallway. My unsteady heartbeat reminds me it’s the first time I’ve made the walk alone in several years.
Ryan’s checking the equipment when I enter the room. His smile is welcoming. Something warm washes over me at his caring for my mother. I hope that doesn’t end without me here to warrant his compassion.
“Do you want to be alone?” Alone. I’ll definitely be that. He stays his course, checking the machine monitors. “I’ll be finished shortly.”
I sit in a chair at the far side of the room, deciding what I’ll say to her. “Do you suppose...” He stops adjusting the wires and tubes to give me his full attention. “I mean, it’s probably not possible. It’s a crazy thought…”
“There’s nothing I can do.” His forlorn frown skews his beautiful face. “Trust me, if there was anything I could do, I’d have already done it.”
It isn’t my new family I can’t trust. It’s me. I can’t trust myself. I won’t make that fatal error. “Right. Of course.”
“Nothing is physically wrong with her, Sheyla.”
I’ve heard that from various specialists researching her strange condition, but to hear it from Ryan only solidifies that I was right all along. She doesn’t exist anymore in spite of her brain waves indicating otherwise. “Then what’s wrong?”
“Her brain and body are disconnected. Both seem to be working fine, just not in sync.”
“Her lighthouse went out. Can it be relit?”
“You’re part of her,” he murmurs, cascading his Echinacea and Aloe scent, “meaning everything you are, everything you’ll become, is because of her. The strength you have, the spark inside you, is a reflection of her. So, yes, I think she’ll eventually find her way back to the shore. Never stop believing that.”
“What if I never believed it to begin with?” My eyes fill up, heat coloring my cheeks.
“It isn’t too late to start believing,” he insists, wiping away my tears.
“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
He lifts my chin, drowning me in his ocean-hued gaze. “Start with yourself and build from there.”
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My laugh comes from sheer exasperation.
“I’ll leave you to it.” His hands clap his lab coat. “Do you need a ride back to the house?”
I freeze. How will I endure this? I’ve mentally prepared myself for not seeing any of them again. I’m a soft no on the yarn-spinning yacht. I don’t want to lie. I owe him more, but if I tell him my intentions, no way will he let me motor on. He’ll talk me out of my decision. His untainted faith is far more inviting than I dare admit. It’s dangerous. He’s built up a nice platform to place me on, oblivious to the sides having no protective railing. I can’t afford to bring down the shield.
“I’ll find you if I need a lift, okay?”
After he leaves, I study her from the chair. A ventilator prompts the rise and fall of her chest, a monitor marks the beating of her heart, and an IV is stationed beside her bed for sustenance. Without the machines, her body wouldn’t function.
Tentatively, I approach. Just looking at her makes me tired. You’ll sleep soon enough, Superego reminds me. The long sleep.
“Hey,” I whisper.
Her lashes are long and curled up as if smiling in place of her lips. I cautiously caress her head where the wires and fixtures gather on the nearly hairless surface. The remaining hair is auburn, the same as mine. My chin has her dimple, but I have my father’s strong jawline. We share the same nose, short and narrow at the bottom. Where her cheeks are rounded, mine are chiseled like his. In a standing position, we’d be the same height, an average 5’4”. My exploration stops at her hand, where her lifeless fingers lay on the crisp, white sheet. I gather them up, mindful of the cords feeding her.
“A lot has been going on lately.” I wet my dry lips. “Not that I need to tell you, being you’ve experienced my devastation firsthand.
“It’s worse than the doctors projected, unfortunately. Why couldn’t you listen to them? Why couldn’t you end my life before I hurt you or anyone else?”
I take a deep breath, actively searching for something of her to remember for the last little stretch of my life, but the lingering bleach burns my nose and throat. This room is too clean, too clinical. It always smells of disinfectant and antiseptic. There’s nothing human.
Growling in frustration, I grip her hand tighter. “Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing there, if you can hear me, I’ll take care of what you couldn’t.
“I don’t blame you, truly I don’t. If the shoe was on the other foot, I couldn’t have terminated, which is precisely why I have to do this. That’s what I’m trying to prevent.
“Living is too dangerous. I’m sure you hoped things would be different. You wanted me to have a chance. It’s just too big a chance to take. I’m a ticking time bomb, quite literally, and I need diffusing before I explode.
“I get what you did. I don’t want you to feel I’m wasting the gift I was given. You didn’t fully understand what would come from your self-sacrifice. Nothing good, I’m afraid.
“Maybe once this is all finished, whatever necessary balance was required will find acquiesce, and Karma will release you. Dad needs you. He’s been patient. He deserves more.
“Thank you for everything you tried to do. I appreciate the effort, honestly. As it turns out, I simply wasn’t worth it.” I suck in a breath as a single spark travels down my arm into her hand, instantly causing me to release her. To let go. “Goodbye, Mom.”
I shake away the crackling in my ears. In my disoriented state, I don’t hear the heart monitor blip erratically as I progress down the hallway to meet my fate.