Trial By Fire

“All right then-”

“One more thing,” Sister Anselm interrupted. “Have you ever been around a patient who has suffered major burn injuries?”

“No, but-”

“Do you play poker, Mr. Cooper?”

“Some,” he said, frowning at her. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because I’m hoping you’ll be able to put on a poker face. What you’ll be seeing in that room will be nothing short of shocking. If this is Mimi, she’s not the same woman you left behind a week ago. Up to now, I don’t think she’s given much thought as to how she looks, but it’s important that when you see her, you try to hold your reactions in check.”

Hal paled a little and swallowed hard. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I was in the military. No matter what, I’ll be fine.”

“Excellent,” Sister Anselm said briskly. “I’m glad to hear it. Come along.”

Once again the pain was swirling around her. It was too much. She couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t bear it. Where was the button? And where the hell was that nun? Why didn’t Sister Anselm come? Wasn’t she supposed to be here? Wasn’t that her job?

Suddenly she was aware of some other presence beside her bed. Not Sister Anselm. Not one of the nurses. Someone else was standing there next to her. Then a face appeared above hers-a man’s face, contorted with something that was half sob and half smile.

“Hello, there, honey bun,” he managed. His voice shook as he spoke. Tears sprang from his eyes. “How’s my Mimi girl?”

Suddenly, over the pain and somehow above it, she heard the words and recognized the gentle voice. She knew the grayish blue eyes peering down at her, and the strained features on his shockingly pale face.

Hal! she thought. He’s found me at last. He’s here!

Just as suddenly she felt overjoyed. She knew Hal’s name. She recognized his face. At least she remembered that much.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “That wasn’t a yes or no question. I can see how you are. You’re hurt, damn it. Do you know who I am?”

Yes! One blink. One very long blink.

“Do you know I love you?”

Another blink. Yes, I do know.

Then she heard Sister Anselm’s voice speaking to both of them as if from a great distance.

“You look a bit pale, Mr. Cooper. Are you sure you’re all right? If you need to sit down or go back outside…”

“No,” he answered. “I’m fine. I’ll stay.”

Hal didn’t sound fine at all but the soft cotton cloud was already descending around her.

Mimi. He called me Mimi! The name still seemed strange and foreign somehow, and she regarded it with no little astonishment. If Mimi really is my name, how could I have forgotten it?

She tried to fight the cloud, but Sister Anselm had already pushed the button. She wanted the pain to go away, but she didn’t want to fall asleep again.

I want to be here, she thought. I want to be here with Hal. I want to be able to see his face and hear his voice. I want to know that when I open my eyes, he’ll be here beside me. I want to know that he won’t go away and leave me again. I want him here. With me.

Even as she formed those thoughts, she was already drifting away from him, slipping away into some other space and time, but this time she was able to pick out a few details in the room that she hadn’t noticed before. The walls of the room were very white, and she was surprised to see that on the wall above his shoulder was a simple wooden cross.

Has that cross been hanging here the whole time? she wondered. If so, why didn’t I see it before?

Much closer at hand, she studied Hal’s face. He looked incredibly tired-as though he hadn’t slept for days. His cheek was rough-covered with a five o’clock shadow of stubble. That wasn’t at all like him. Then, as she watched, a solitary tear coursed down his cheek and dripped off his chin

He looks awful, she thought. Why is he crying? Doesn’t he know how glad I am to see him? Why doesn’t he ask me that? Am I glad?

Oh, yes. Please ask me. One blink for yes.

He leaned over her. He was wearing one of those paper gowns like the one Sister Anselm wore. It rustled when he moved.

“I’m right here,” he said. “I won’t leave. I promise.”

Those words were like a balm to her tortured soul. She could feel herself sliding steadily into unconsciousness, but this time no flames awaited. The air around her was soft and moist and cool. For a disorienting moment she couldn’t imagine where she was. She noticed there was grass underfoot and fog all around, wrapping them both in an eerie embrace. In the distance she heard the sound of a foghorn.

The foghorn. Of course. In San Francisco. How could she have forgotten that? Where they had stood on a hillside in front of the justice of the peace and said they would be together, loving and honoring each other, in sickness and health, until death do us part.

“Go to sleep, Mimi,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ll be right here.”

The next blast of the foghorn was followed by another sound-the disturbing sound of a grown man weeping.

“Come, Mr. Cooper,” Sister Anselm said several minutes later. “You really shouldn’t stay here much longer. We should go now, and let her sleep. Leave me a number. If you’re not in the waiting room, I’ll call you when she’s waking up so you can be here when she does.”

As Hal Cooper left the waiting room, Dave turned to Ali. “Wait a minute,” he said in a performance worthy of an Academy Award. “Don’t I know you? Didn’t we have an art history class together at ASU a few years ago?”

This was nothing short of an outrageous lie, since Ali Reynolds had never set foot on the Arizona State University campus. Obviously Dave had known who Ali was all along, but he had been careful not to show it

“Yes,” she said, smiling back at him, holding out her hand and carrying her own part of the charade. “Cecelia McCa

“Dave,” he answered. “Dave Holman. Yavapai County Sheriff’s Department. How about you?”

“I’m a consultant,” she said quickly. “Doing a project for the hospital.”

He gave her a quick wink, one that she hoped none of the other people in the room noticed.

Ali wondered how long she and Dave and Sister Anselm could keep up the fiction that they knew one another but didn’t have a close working relationship.

The elevator door opened and a woman stepped into the room. She was blond, mid-thirties, and definitely dressed for success. She stopped and surveyed the waiting room before going over to the nurses’ station. “My name is Do

Ah-ha, Ali thought. The daughter’s personal assistant.

There was an attendant behind the desk, someone who hadn’t been privy to all the earlier discussions

“I’m sorry,” she said at once. “We don’t have anyone here by that name.”

“He’s a visitor, not a patient,” Do

One of the lolling teenagers spoke up. “That guy’s down the hall,” he explained. “Visiting in one of the rooms.”

“Which one? I need to talk to him.”

“Are you a relative?” the attendant asked.

“No, but-”

“Only authorized relatives are allowed access to the patients’ rooms. You’ll have to take a seat.”

“It is his wife, then?” Do

The attendant didn’t budge. “I’m not at liberty to disclose any information whatsoever,” she said. “If you’ll be good enough to sit down-”

“But I spoke to Mimi’s daughter, Serenity Langley. She sent me here to find out what’s going on,” Do

“Please,” the attendant said. “I’m sure you’ll know in good time.”