Secrets, Lies and Dragonflies

Chapter 24

A pattering sound grows stronger, louder, stirring me awake. Straining to open my eyes to locate the source of the noise, sudden stabbing pains strike me on every front: my limbs, my head, my back—but the worst of it shoots down my left arm. I freeze as if someone's holding a gun to my head in hopes the attacks will let up.

Finally able to pry my lids open, I discover the shape of the window is not my own. Heavy rain pounds like beads against the glass pane. I try turning to get a better view of the foreign space but can only moan.

"I think she's waking up," someone says.

A woman dressed in a white coat, I suspect a doctor or nurse, walks into my field of vision. "Hi there. I'm Dr. Griffith. How are you feeling?"

Those greenish blue eyes..."I know you. I'm sorry. I can't remember."

She chuckles slightly. "Yes. Yes. Well, dear.  That's okay.  Most people don't once I put that good medicine to work." Her long brown hair is loosely spooled into a braid with a strand or two falling to the side. She's the doctor who had me count backwards. Don't think I got past six. "Do you have any pain?" she asks.

When I try to speak, my brain feels like its miles away from my mouth. "Ooooh, yes, ma'am. Pain. Everywhere. But I'm really...tired."

"That's to be expected. You're coming out of the anesthesia. Sometimes, people don't come out of it feeling too good. Not such a fun way to spend your time after the big ordeal you just went through." She leans in, flashes something in my eyes then writes on her clipboard. "Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"

I see three and answer accordingly.

"That's good. Very good. Now, how about the day. Do you know what day it is?"

Slowly recalling the events that ultimately landed me here, I don't think I'll ever forget what today is. "Saturday," I answer.

"Very close. It's actually Sunday. It was Saturday before you went into surgery. But that's good enough."

"Sunday? Oh, no. I promised my Aunt Amy I would help with the breakfast shift."  Trying to get out of bed seems impossible.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart. You're looking like a sea turtle wrapped in fishing line with all that tubing attached to you." Aunt Amy enters the room with a Styrofoam cup, a sign that something is really wrong. Styrofoam, being the earth killer that it is, only second to plastic bags, is forbidden anywhere near her café. "Where do you think you're going, young lady? In case you haven't noticed, you're in no condition to help anyone."

"But how? How are you here? It's Sunday. Your busiest day. And Mrs. Sheffield isn't back yet."

The scent of strong, stale coffee exudes from the cup she sets down next to my bed.

"Hush, now. The only thing I want you to worry about is getting better. You have a lot of healing up you need to do first. Now just settle down and get some rest."

My head is too heavy to argue.

Dr. Griffith motions for my Aunt to join her at the threshold of my hospital room. They engage in soft conversation. My senses are too shot to even attempt to eavesdrop.

An older woman in an overcoat with a stethoscope roped around her neck joins them at the doorway. Her chestnut graying hair is pulled back neatly with an antiqued clip. "I thought you were gone for the day and I was doing rotations this morning, Eunice," she says to Dr. Griffith.

"Yes, yes, you were. That's right. Goodness. I'm all mixed up. But you know how excited I get after some of our....our patients' surgeries." Dr. Griffith puff away a strand of hair falling in her face. "There were a few people I wanted to visit with, Mackenzie being one of them."

The trio's muted discussion ends abruptly and they gather around my bedside. My anxiety level accelerates sensing there will be questions I'm not prepared to answer.

"And how is our little accident-prone patient doing?" The older doctor says warmly.

"I believe Ms. Temple is doing well," Dr. Griffith replies. "Mackenzie, this is the wonderful Dr. Sterling. She's the one with the magical hands."

I strain to offer a smile of gratitude.

"Hello, Mackenzie. I am partly guilty for the new hardware in your arm, but we had a good team and everything's put back together."

"You're a real life Humpty Dumpty,"  Dr. Griffith adds. 

"The good news is I think we'll get you out of here by this afternoon," Dr. Sterling says.

"That is good news," says Aunt Amy. "So how long are you thinking she'll be in the cast?"

"We'll want to see her in about a week to make sure she's healing up okay. Usually it takes six to eight weeks before the cast can come off. "

Feeling a little more alert, I finally put together what this did to my aunt. "I can't believe you had to close the café today. I'm so sorry. I promise I'm going to make this up to you."

"Hey, hey, you have nothing to be sorry about. Accidents happen, sweetheart." She smooths back my hair. "You have no idea how worried you had me. I'm just so relieved you're okay. Well, relatively speaking. I almost filed a missing person's report."

"I understand this was a pretty bad fall from your bicycle?" Dr. Sterling asks.

Aunt Amy stops brushing my hair. "Actually, I never did hear the full story. You said you were riding your bike down the trail and fell into a bush, but then you were really unclear after that. Understandably so. The pain you were in. It scared me to death."

I have to be careful. Exposing everything that happened will break apart more than just my friendships. I'd risk losing the trust of the only person that's keeping my family together. Aunt Amy would be devastated if she knew all the lies I've told. But I have to give her something. "Well, it wasn't just a bush. I actually got..." I pause. I can't divulge getting hit by the Neanderthal's Jaguar, or else I risk taking Lindsey and Alexis down with me. "...spooked by this..." The boy and his dog can take the fall. Besides, I'll never see him again.

"By this what?" Aunt Amy says in a tone that makes me nervous.

"...by this creepy guy standing in the woods. He lunged at me. That's why I crashed my bike. To avoid him. And I was stuck with my bike on top of me. The guy sent his attack dog after me. It was huge. I was so scared. Then, when the guy started coming at me with his dog, I screamed."

"Oh, dear. You poor thing," says Dr. Griffith. Both she and Dr. Sterling seem to be caught up in my story as much as Aunt Amy.

"Yeah. So when I flew over my handlebars, I must have hit a rock really hard and broke my arm. The guy pulled the bike off me and I think I scared the dog away when I screamed. My knees and my arm hurt so bad. But all I can remember is just wanting to jumping on my bike and get out of there because I didn't want to miss picking Spencer up. I can't even remember how I got home."

Dr. Sterling nods. "That's probably because you were in shock."

"Oh, Mackenzie," Aunt Amy says.

Seeing her face crinkle with concern is heart wrenching. I'm telling Lindsey and Alexis I'm never lying to her again.

She places her hand over my good one. "That's so terrible. Who was this guy? Did you recognize him?"

Finally, something I can answer honestly. "No. I've never seen him before."

Just then, Aunt Amy's phone rings.

"That's strange," she says, her tone perplexed. "It's your cell phone calling me. I tried calling you non-stop last night. Must be one of your friends looking for you."

It's definitely not one of my friends. Last time I saw it, I was checking the time when I left Lindsey's house on my way to pick up Spencer. There's nothing I can say or do to stop her from answering the call. I can't imagine who's on the other end.

"Hello?"