Under the Cypress Moon (59 page)

After several cups of coffee and a few cigarettes, swiped from one of Mark's unopened packs, Shylah felt as motivated as she could be.  With a quick shower and a rudimentary application of makeup, Shylah reentered the kitchen to eat a crude breakfast of toast and jelly.  It seemed to be enough and sounded good, though, as she left the house a little while later, she felt her stomach grumble for want of adequate sustenance. 

T.L. showed up to the house at half past nine o'clock, to Shylah's contentious anxiety, she knowing that she would be again terrified by seeing Mark in a hospital bed.  It was necessary to make the drive and to see her fiancée, not to mention that he and T.L. needed to see one another, but the thought of it all saddened and sickened Shylah.  She wondered to herself if she could continue this way, seeing Mark bedridden in a hospital every few weeks.

Mark was joyous to see both Shylah and T.L.  Each of them gave Mark a heartfelt hug, but Shylah topped this with a long and breath-stealing kiss. 

"Morning, Baby," Shylah said as she lifted her lips from Mark's, staring intently into his eyes, nearly crying.

"Morning, Beautiful," Mark replied, feeling the same swelling of his eyes as Shylah felt in hers.

"Stop.  You're gonna make me get full of myself, Baby.  I'm glad you think I'm beautiful, but we don't want it goin' to my head, now do we?"  Shylah held Mark's hands in both of her own, rubbing them with her thumbs.

"So, how ya feelin' on this fine day, Man," T.L. added.

"Good.  Good," Mark raspingly said.  "Better, at least."

"Good to hear.  You had us real worried, Mark.  You know we all love ya, Brother!"

"I know, T.  I know.  Glad you're here.  I love you more than a brother.  You know that, right?"

"I know," T.L. affirmed, holding back his own tears.  "Damn.  Looks like we're all gonna start bawlin' like babies at any moment."

All three shared a hearty and happy laugh.  Mark glanced from person to person and felt tremendous joy in knowing that he was cared for so much and that had two of the most important people in the world there with him at the same time.

Not long after that, Dan Brady showed up, bringing Mark a king size Snicker's candy bar concealed in his shirt.  "I got this for ya, Man.  I know how bad hospital food is and thought you could use somethin' that actually tastes good!  I didn't know if they'd let ya have it, so I tucked it away.  Here you go."  As soon as Dan laid the candy bar on the food tray next to the bed, Shylah grabbed him and gave him the biggest hug anyone has ever received.

Squeezing so hard that it seemed Shylah might force all life from Dan's body, she sobbingly let loose all of the emotion welling with her, "Thank you, Dan!  Thank you so much!  Thank you!  Thank you!"  With a wet kiss on the cheek, Shylah pulled away and squeezed Dan one more time.

"For what?  What's this about," Dan confusedly asked.

"For bein' there when he needed you, for savin' his life!  We owe you more than we can ever pay back to you, Dan Brady!"

"Hey.  I was just doin' my job and also helpin' out a friend.  I know Mark would've done the same thing for me.  I wouldn't be a good cop or a good friend if I just let him lay there and die on me, now would I?"  Dan smiled at Shylah so funnily that she burst out laughing at the sight.

"Did they ever catch Sara," Shylah wondered to her friend, not wanting to change the subject so quickly but worried that Sara might not face punishment for what she had done.

"Sadly enough, no.  No, they didn't," Dan answered, a bit reluctant to be the bearer of such bad news.  "We put out an A.P.B. on her immediately, and now, of course, there's another warrant for her arrest.  I'll say this.  She eluded bein' captured for so long on the other charges.  She's good at hidin' out.  The bad thing for her is that doin' that makes her wanted all that much more and kills her chances of gettin' a deal, but that's maybe good news for you guys.  The longer she remains at large, the worse she's gonna get it when she is caught.  I don't think she's gonna see the light of day for a very, very long time when they find her!"

"Well, I hope they fry the bitch," Shylah adamantly professed.  "Fry her up like a fish!  Batter her up, and throw her ass in a fryin' pan!  I'll buy a ticket to watch that!"

"Hey, you and me both, Shylah," Dan agreed.  "You and me both.  You'd buy one, too, wouldn't ya, T.?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, knowin' it ain't the Christian thing to say, let me think... ummm.... hell yeah!  I'll buy the beer for that show!"

"Well, between you and me," Dan continued in a hushed tone, "Everybody at the department is real pissed.  You know how much most folks around here love Mark."

"Yeah.  I do," T.L. answered.  "He's a great guy.  Who the hell would be crazy enough not to love that ugly face of his?"

"Well," Dan continued, still whispering, "Me and some of the guys at the station were talkin' about this, after we gave up lookin' for Sara.  One of the guys said that if Sara shows her face anywhere in this county, she might not make it to jail, if you know what I mean.  I try to play by the book, but I had to laugh at that.  As long as it ain't me doin' it, I don't think I'll mind that.  If they find her floatin' down the Alapaha River, it ain't gonna be no sweat off my back."

"They're gonna find her around here somewhere," Mark chimed.  "This place catches people.  Ya'all know the story of ol' Jeff Davis.  He thought he could hide, and he was the most wanted man in the whole country!"

"We all know that story," T.L. replied, a little irked at hearing the mention of Jefferson Davis.

"I'm just sayin' you know how it goes.  You can't hide around here unless you're from here.  That's why Davis was caught, and it's gonna be the same for Sara if she ain't left.  She can't hide."  Mark felt himself grin from ear to ear at the thought of Sara being found.  It was a wonderful, warming feeling.  "If they catch that girl, sister or no sister, it's gonna be like my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas,
Hanukah or however you say it, Kwanza, you know what I'm tryin' to say, and all of them other holidays all in one!"

Before long, Dan had to leave and was quickly replaced by Lou Sanders and his wife, Janine.  Hour after hour passed in general merriment, everyone laughing, reminiscing, and so thankful that Mark was ok.  No one knew what problems might arise as to Mark's health with time to come, but for now, he was happy; he was healthy.  Though Mark getting shot seemed in no way a blessing, his seeming recovery was.

Shylah and T.L. excused themselves to go to the hospital cafeteria, as Shylah was so hungry that she could bear it no longer.  She knew that the baby needed nourishment, and though she wanted every waking moment with Mark possible, she knew that caring for herself and the baby was of utmost and dire importance.

The rest of the day went by in a blur.  Before anyone realized it, it was evening, and the two remaining guests were ushered away by hospital staff.  Darius and Pearlina made their appearances hours previous, wishing Mark all the best and telling him how much they loved him and were glad that he was alright.  They left the place with a lengthy and very thankful family prayer, everyone gathered around Mark's bed, holding hands and each pouring out their soul to the Lord in retribution of miraculous protection of their loved one.

Shylah still could not handle the thought of being in the big, empty Crady house without the loving company of Mark and decided to gather her things and go to her parents' house where she could enjoy the support of family and have access to her car.  She left the Crady house locked as she exited with the last of her things that evening, knowing that she could not reenter without Mark, as he had the only remaining house key.

Day after day went by of this routine for Shylah, visiting Mark in the hospital with T.L. and having Darius and Pearlina show up, as well as Dan Brady and Lou Sanders, sometimes, with his wife, sometimes, with his wife and kids, and sometimes, by himself.  Every time that Shylah saw Dan, she threw her arms around him, nearly squeezing the life out of him, and thanked him so profusely that he got tremendously embarrassed.  Shylah did not care.  She was so happy that Mark lived through his injuries and that he would be ok.  Even if he spent the rest of his life battling the effects of the bullet wound, at least, he was alive.

Shylah started to spend more and more time, while visiting Mark and while at her parents' house making plans for her wedding.  She decided that she would not allow anything, especially the selfish mistakes of an insane woman ruin her life or postpone her dreamlike nuptials.  She had the man of her dreams, and God had allowed him to remain on the Earth and not be taken from his one true love.  They had been given a second chance.  Shylah knew that if she took it all for granted, there may never be a third chance.  She would not only go through with her plans but would spend every possible second cherishing Mark and thanking the Lord for him and his recovery.  Nothing would stand in the way of their happiness, not parents, not society, not money, not reputation, and certainly, not Sara.

After Mark had been in the hospital for five days, the swelling near his spine began to subside substantially, enough for his doctor to determine that he was not paralyzed but that he would experience incredible stiffness and loss of motion in the spine, and possibly eventual deterioration of his spine and hips.  For quite some time, to add to this mess, he would have difficulty making bowel movements, the pain of it all enough t
o cause him not only trouble fulfilling that need but difficulty in passing anything larger than a grape through his system until the intestines repaired themselves.  He would have to visit the doctor on a bi-weekly basis for many months.  It all felt overwhelming, disheartening, and more than a little frightening to Mark, but much like Shylah, he was so thankful to be alive and allowed to continue his life's journey with Shylah that he did not want to take anything for granted ever again or to curse his fate.  It was what it was, and if it was what God had allowed, it must be taken with the good, Mark thought.

The doctor's real immediate concern was that Mark's body was beginning to produce massive amounts of scar tissue, which could not only press against his intestines but make any further procedures, even to check for remaining bullet fragments or to perform more repairs to the intestines could prove difficult, maybe even fruitless. 
On Sunday, the day that it was determined that the swelling had subsided, Mark was allowed to get out of bed for more than a few minutes at a time.  His doctor wanted him to accustom himself to a wheelchair.  Walking, sitting, and getting in and out of bed would be greatly hampered for some time by the pain, remaining swelling, and the little bit of nerve damage at the base of his spine.  He was told that he could go home the next day, in a wheelchair and that he would have to continue using the chair until told otherwise.  There was a great fear that walking too much or getting up and down more than absolutely necessary might pull on his stitches as well as apply pressure to the intestinal repairs.  Everything would be taken on a day to day basis, but the utmost care and carefulness must be utilized at all times. 

When Shylah heard the news that Mark could come home soon, she threw her hands in the air in tearful thanks to God.  She could not believe it that she would finally be able to welcome Mark home.  She would have to do all of the housework, all of the cooking, help Mark around, even to the bathroom, and help Mark to wash himself.  The last part she really did not mind except for the fact that little more than that could be done.  If she got aroused by it, she would have to satisfy herself or find some way of safely doing very little with Mark.  She didn't much like the idea of either, but if it meant having Mark out of the hospital and back home, she would do whatever was necessary. 

Shylah got the house key from Mark, and as soon as she and T.L. got back to their parents' house, she left to go to Mark's to clean the place as best as it required and to go get groceries.  She knew where Mark kept a small stash of money and assumed that he would not mind her taking some of it for household necessities.  She wanted everything in the house to be as perfect as it could be for Mark's return.  It took more than four hours to clean the bedroom, replace the bedding, clean the bathroom and kitchen, do the shopping, and put away all groceries and other goods.  The rest of the house seemed fine, other than some places containing a slight bit of dust, which she quickly wiped away, thinking the entire house seemed well enough cleaned. 

It was after midnight, and Mark could be released as early as eight or nine a.m. she was told.  She knew that she would have to get up extra early the next day and rush to the hospital almost immediately.  T.L. and her parents, however, agreed that they would wait for word of Mark's release before coming to the house to visit and welcome him back.  Unbeknownst to Mark, Shylah was to leave the house unlocked, and upon Shylah's message when Mark was being processed to leave the hospital, Pearlina would go to his house and prepare a large meal for all safe enough for Mark to digest, consisting mostly of foods so mashed, pureed, or chopped that he should have little to no difficulty. 

Shylah awoke the next morning feeling refreshed, rejuvenated, really, overjoyed at the prospect of seeing Mark at home finally.  She was exhausted, waking up at five-thirty a.m., but she didn't care.  She wanted to have enough time to wake up, get ready, and be in Mark's hospital room before eight o'clock, just in case he was released at that time.  After three cups of coffee, two cigarettes, a hearty breakfast of eggs, toast, sausage, and donuts, Shylah had one more cigarette and then headed into the bathroom to get ready.  She wanted to look perfect when Mark saw her and be the shining light in his life, his beacon back to a better time and place.  She showered and put on her best clothes that she had at Mark's house, applied copious amounts of makeup, and fixed her hair into slightly curled tendrils draping down her neck and sides of her face.  All in all, she thought, she looked really good, good enough that if Mark had not been left unable to consummate the joyful reunion, he would likely jump her the first moment possible.