Can't Go Home (Oasis Waterfall) (27 page)

It was cold; snow was still coming down in a whiteout. My friends were all at the park, having a blast, sledding, drinking whatever they scored from their parents’ liquor cabinets. I was fucking pissed. My kid sister had just ruined my whole day. The snow was wet and packing easily, creating a slick, icy hill.

I took no caution in going down the hill, accelerating considerably. Piper was on the front of the old runner sled. We were going so fast; I couldn’t control the rusted-out runners. We were headed straight for a pole by the pavilion. I screamed for her to jump. I jumped off, not realizing I should’ve grabbed her too. I rolled down the remainder of the hill. Piper slammed right into the pole, cutting her head open, getting a severe concussion.

Carrying her home, Piper cried in my arms, blood pouring down her face. I felt so helpless, so guilty. My mom was nowhere to be found. I took Piper into the bathroom, bandaged her head the best I could and waited for my mom to get home. When Kathryn started vomiting, I panicked. But, I still waited.

After an hour of waiting and soaking three towels in blood from Piper’s head, I knew I had to take her to the hospital. I drove there while she was dozed off. I thought that was a good thing. If she could sleep, then she must be okay. That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway. Little did I know at the time, it wasn’t a good thing.

The doctors stitched her up, 29 stitches in her head. They were more concerned with the concussion. Piper stayed the night in the hospital for observation. My parents were livid, rightfully blaming me for everything. I stayed with her, not leaving her bedside. My parents were relieved that they didn’t have to stay. Typical.

I knew that night that I’d do anything I could to protect her. I was never going to let anything happen to her again. I promised her and promised myself. Fuck, I hated not living up to my promises. Here it is 12 years later, and I’m staring at the same little girl in a hospital bed, knowing that I’m probably to blame for this too.

I reach for her hand, only to discover the bandages that are blocking my hand from holding hers. Glancing down, I’m submerged in agony as I understand why both of her hands and wrists are wrapped with gauze and medical tape. Oh Pipe! No! God no! Piper wasn’t “crying for help”, wasn’t trying to “make a point.” My beautiful, tormented, seventeen-year-old sister was trying to end her life. A desperate act of finality.

Kathryn quietly and delicately wipes my cheeks with a tissue; I hadn’t even realized I was crying, couldn’t even feel the stream of tears roll down my face, dripping onto the hospital bed’s rail. My shoulders shake; a sob escapes me. Kathryn wraps her arms around me, giving me support and strength. Burying my head in her hair, I cry in her arms, allowing her to see me at my weakest, needing her to be the strength that holds me together.

Wiping my eyes, I clear my throat, and say, “Thank you … thank you for being here … for everything.”

A faint smile appears on her face, her eyes glistening in tears. Kathryn places her hand against my cheek; her thumb lingers over my lips. I turn into her hand, kissing her palm, and then holding it against my heart. “It means everything to me that you’re here.”

The door busts opens. The switch flips on, blinding the room in bright fluorescent lights. “This one here?” asks a security guard, followed by two husky, angry nurses.

“Yes, that’s him,” my mother confirms. “He’s not permitted in this room … not anywhere near our daughter.”

“Dude, you pissed off the ‘rents. You’re gonna need to do some serious ass-kissing to fix this shit,” Tristan jokes, sidling up next to me as the security guard roughly escorts me to the door.

Ignoring my brother, I say, “I’m a goddamn doctor. How can you not let me in? I can read her charts, talk to the doctors for fuck’s sake. Let me help,” I argue, trying to free myself from the guard’s grip.

“You’re not welcome here,” my mother states, turning her back on me. “And neither are you … whoever you are.”

“Yeah, who’s this chick?” Tristan asks, drinking in every inch of Kathryn’s body with his eyes. “Ya need me to keep you warm while Ade’s being detained?” Tristan asks, wrapping an arm around Kathryn. I see her grimace and flinch. Losing my shit, I shove the guard back, barreling toward my brother.

“You son-of-a-bitch, don’t touch her, don’t look at her, don’t you even fucking think about her,” I threaten, “I will fucking destroy you.”

“Looks like the streets have been real good to ya, kid … turned you into the hot-blooded loser we all knew you’d be,” Tristan sardonically says, just as the security calls for backup.

I protectively wrap my arm around Kathryn’s waist, pulling her against me. “No need to call anyone. We’re leaving,” I announce in utter disgust. “I’m walking out on the one and only person in this family who’s actually worth anything. Thanks y’all … thanks a fucking lot.”

Walking out the door, I hear the smallest muffled sound; the sound stops me in my tracks, warming my heart. “Adre-annie.” I turn, along with everyone else, as Piper’s eyes flutter.

I plow through my family to the hospital bed, “I’m here, Pipe. I’m here.” Her eyes flutter and roll back into her head. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I stroke her head, wiping her hair off of her forehead. “Come on honey, wake up. Talk to me.”

The security guard grabs me. Shrugging him off me, I growl, “Get your hands off me.” I glare at my parents. “Piper’s waking up … she wants me. Do this for her—not me.”

They look at each other, then at me. Both of my parents narrow their eyes. My father addresses the guard, “Let him be.” Turning his face back to me, he says, “Until she’s awake.”

Her eyes flutter again. A small smile reaches her lips. “Annie,” she croaks. Coughing and gagging, she adds, “You’re home.”

I’m in over my head. I am one hundred fifty-two thousand percent in over my head. When Piper finally spoke, relief washed over the room, drowning out the anger and hostility that was flowing so roughly between everyone. I for one was thrilled for the break in tension, especially since it meant that Piper was out of the woods, as the doctors said.

Luckily, when the doctor came in to check on her, and realized that she awakened to talk to Dre, he overrode Dre’s parents and insisted that he stay with her throughout the rest of her stay in the ICU as well as when she’s moved to the psychiatric floor for evaluation. The doctor believes that Dre’s presence lightens her darkness. He wants Dre to be there to talk to her, listen to her, and comfort her. The O’Donnells didn’t want to besmirch their name by refusing to do whatever was the best for their daughter. Dre dodged a cold, ostracized bullet. Thank God, his relationship with Piper was strong enough to penetrate her catatonic state. If anything, they should be grateful to him for that.

After he sits with his sister a while, Dre and I go downstairs to donate blood for her. I wasn’t a match, but I still felt like donating for someone who may need it in the future. Dre was obviously an exact match. Watching him, understanding how much she means to him, my heart breaks and warms at the same time. I love how much Dre cares for Piper, would do anything for her. But, I also hate watching him endure this pain, knowing he can’t protect her, do anything for her, other than donate his blood to her. After the nurses, tape our arms up with hospital gauze, Dre heads back to Piper’s room. I just head to the couches to watch television.

Sitting alone in the waiting room, I start flipping through the television channels, wishing Syd would’ve grabbed my Kindle or Jose’s manuscript from my nightstand. I feel terribly for canceling on him so much lately. Jose is never going to publish his book if I don’t get my butt in gear. Poor kid.

Looking for something to watch, I’m floored when I see Chet O’Donnell, Dre’s father, plastered all over the television screen on each channel, with the scrolling headline: “Chet O’Donnell, multi-billion dollar real estate mogul’s daughter fights for her life after a failed suicide attempt.”

I knew he looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it. They posted a family picture of the O’Donnells. I don’t even recognize Dre, the clean-cut, obedient young man on the screen. The picture depicts them as the perfect family: attractive, well-groomed, close-knit, and loving. A picture is worth 1000 words, but the words that this picture tells is full of lies and deception.

Feeling his hands on my shoulders, kneading my sore muscles, deliciously, I moan, “Mmmm … God, that feels so good.” As his hands mold and roll over my shoulders and down my arms, he kisses my neck, nibbling on the back of my ear. “Man, do I want you, but you know how I feel about … mmmm … public displays of … mmmm … affection.”

“Come on Baby, you know you want it,” an unfamiliar voice growls in my ear, making every hair on my arms and neck stand up, sending terror and disgust throughout my body.

Shooting up off the couch, I knock Tristan’s hands from me. “Easy Baby, I know you’ve been slumming lately and all, but I’m willing to do some slumming of my own to show you what it’s like to swallow a real man,” he says. His sleazy, condescending, taunting voice makes my skin crawl and stomach heave. “You’d like that—wouldn’t you?”

“What I’d like is for you to walk away—walk away and never speak to me again,” I say, desperately trying to sound poised and collected, but the quaver in my voice betrays me.

Knowing I can’t make a scene in this hospital, I turn to walk away. Tristan accosts me, grabbing my arm. His breath is hot and heavy on my neck, “I don’t mind dipping my dick in some sloppy-second filth. I know how much Ade likes his whores.”

Tristan doesn’t realize that my father forced me (and I mean the kicking, dragging and screaming kind of forced) to take self-defense my entire senior year of high school if I was moving away to a strange campus.

Realizing my pride and Dre’s honor are at stake and a heck of a lot more important than what some hospital nurses and orderlies think of me, I grasp his hand tightly, allowing Tristan to believe I’m relenting. He comes in closer, giving me the angle and grip I need, I yank his arm up around my head, bending over with full force as he flips right over the top of me, landing on his back on the hard, cold hospital floor with a thud and a groan.

“If you ever effing touch me again, I’ll rip your tiny penis off and shove it down your throat, you douchebag!” I threaten, kicking him in the thigh with all my might.

“Ya know Pebbles,” Dre says, draping an arm around me, “sometimes it’s a lot more effective if you actually do throw around some hard-core, vulgar profanity every now and then.”

I hadn’t realized Dre’d come up behind us. I feel a mix of my own selfish pride and even guilt for flattening Dre’s brother in the same hospital his sister is in, fighting for her life.

“Dre, I’m sorry,” I explain, hoping that he doesn’t think I was leading Tristan on.

Bending over Tristan, Dre glares at him. “Don’t you think it would’ve been a lot better saying ‘fucking’ before the whole ‘touch me again’ or even ‘dick’ if you’re gonna shove it down his throat?” Dre asks, standing back up and kicking his brother in the side, “or better yet, how about up his ass?” he adds, kicking him in the stomach.

“Don’t come near her again, you asshole.” Kicking him again, he threatens, “Ever.”

“Why’d you and this cunt even come here?” Tristan groans, doubled over on his side on the floor. “Nobody wants you around anymore.”

Bending over and punching Tristan in the mouth, Dre hisses, “Don’t ever call her that again.”

“Alright Dre … enough …” I plead, pulling on his arm. “This is getting all a little too
Lion King-y
for me.”

Still staring down at his brother, venomously, Dre starts laughing, hysterically, and finally turns toward me. “Did you just say ‘
Lion King-y?’
I’m pretty sure that isn’t an adjective, Babe. But I get it … I got ya.”

“Brothers really shouldn’t kill brothers; I got a big problem with that,” I explain. “No matter how much they effing deserve it.”

“Again, ‘fucking’ would’ve been a lot stronger there,” Dre argues, dragging me into his arms. “How in the eff did I ever get this lucky?”

Dre went back into the hospital room to sit with Piper, willing her to awaken again. His parents wouldn’t permit me, under no certain circumstances, to enter the room—especially after the whole Tristan in the waiting room rigmarole. Gratefully, I’m allowed in the ICU waiting room—just not room 202. Feeling antsy and trapped, I decided to stroll around downtown, taking some time to clear my head and process everything I’d come to learn in the past twenty-fours.