Tears poured down my cheeks as I stooped beside Ethan. His skin had taken on a pale blue cast that resembled the piece of pottery he’d taught me about. Blood dripped freely from the gunshot wound in his side. Professor North looked close to catatonic as he sat in the snow staring at his son.
The tartan scarf lay across the snow like a great plaid snake. I balled it up and leaned over Ethan. “I’m going to press this against the wound,” I said softly. “I apologize if it hurts.” I got up on my knees, reached over Ethan, and pressed the scarf against the hole with all the strength I could muster with shaky hands. I looked over at Professor North. “How long will it take for the ambulance to get here?”
He looked at me in a daze as if I’d just asked a question in Latin.
“Twenty minutes, at least,” Dalton said. “We’ve got to move him from the snow. He’s going into shock. We need to get him warm. Auggie, move to the other side and keep pressure on that as I carry him to the porch. Dad,” he paused as he noticed his dad’s state of distress for the first time. “Dad, pull yourself together and go inside for blankets.”
Professor North peered up at Dalton, and it seemed, for a moment, that he would not be able to move. Then he pushed to his feet and lumbered across the yard to the house.
I hurried over to Ethan’s other side and held fast to the scarf. Dalton leaned down and scooped his brother into his arms. Ethan was nearly as tall and heavy as him, yet Dalton lifted him with ease. But the pain in his leg was clear on his face. I stumbled along next to him keeping pressure on the wound. He carried Ethan up the front steps and laid him gently on the blanket his dad had placed on the ground. I kept my hand in place as they bundled him in blankets. Ethan drifted in and out of consciousness.
Dalton went stiff in pain as he dropped to his knees beside his brother. He caught his breath and then took Ethan’s face in his hands. “Hey Buddy, try to stay awake. I know it’s hard but fight it. Stay with me, Ethan,” Dalton’s voice wavered and my tears flowed faster.
The comforting scream of sirens came up from the road below. The red flashing lights dipped in and out from behind the trees and then the ambulance turned up the road.
“Hear that, Ethan? Help’s on the way.” Dalton looked over at me. The expression on his face nearly broke me in two. His dad stood over us wringing his hands and just seconds, it seemed, from a complete breakdown. “Dad, who the hell would come up here to shoot at us? What’s going on?”
Professor North could barely stand let alone speak. He just shook his head weakly.
Three police cars had arrived with the emergency crew. Professor North insisted that in his state of despair he had seen nothing, but Dalton and I provided them with all the details we could remember. The paramedics did not waste much time getting Ethan into the ambulance. Professor North rode with Ethan, and Dalton and I followed in my car.
I looked over at Dalton. He’d not taken the time to get his coat and gloves. His hands and shirt were covered in his brother’s blood, and the despair on his face made my chest tight with sadness.
“I’m sure Ethan will be fine. The wound was on his side where there are no important organs.”
He stared down at his blood stained hands. “I’m as fucking useless as a three legged horse.”
“The guy had a gun. What were you going to do if you had reached him?”
“Pummel his face into a tree and then wrap the gun around his neck. Or at least that is what I would have done before. . .”
“Ethan would still be hurt. The police will catch him.”
Dalton sat in a silent trance the rest of the way to the hospital and I couldn’t help but wonder if carrying his wounded brother to the porch had dredged up the horrible day when he’d carried his best friend to safety. I knew, for the time being, there was little I could say to comfort him. He was in pain and despondent with worry.
There was a sea of red lights at the emergency room entrance. More police had arrived, which made sense since there was a crazy man loose in the woods with a gun. Dalton stepped out of the car and his face twisted as he grabbed his leg. I dashed over to his side, took hold of his hand and pulled his arm around my shoulder for support.
The paramedics had wheeled the gurney in before Dalton and I had reached the entrance. Professor North sat on a chair in the hallway and a nurse was taking his pulse. He barely had the strength to look up as we walked down the hallway toward him.
The nurse’s eyes widened as she looked at us, and for the first time, I realized that I was covered in almost as much blood as Dalton. “You’re the brother?” the nurse asked.
“Yes.”
“The doctor is going to give your father something to calm him. His pulse is dangerously high. Does he have any history of heart problems or hypertension?”
“Not that I know of.” Dalton looked down at his dad. “Pull yourself together,” he said coldly, “keeling over with a stroke is not going to help Ethan.”
Professor North lifted his face. He looked nothing like the calm, thoughtful man who stood over the lectern at school enthusiastically talking about pyramids and pharaohs. “This was my fault.” His voice was as unfamiliar as his face.
“What do you mean?” Dalton asked. “How could this be your fault?”
Professor North didn’t answer.
The nurse released his wrist. “All of you look as if you need a chance to sit and pull yourselves together.” She pointed to a door. “There’s a private waiting room in there. Let me know if you need anything. We’ll let you know just as soon as we know anything about Ethan.”
We were not in the waiting room for longer than five minutes when the professor’s phone rang. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of it.
Dalton watched him as he hurried from the room to answer it. He shook his head. “None of this makes sense. Who would hike through snow to find a house and randomly shoot someone? And my dad’s reaction and behavior is so far out of character, it’s like I’m looking at a complete stranger.”
“Well, his son was just shot. I think we can give him some leeway on behavior. But I agree. Even though I don’t claim to know him as well as you do, I’ve spent many hours in his classroom, and the man who teaches antiquities is not the man I’ve seen pacing the house and startling at the sound of his phone these past days.”
Professor North was sliding his phone into his pocket as he walked back into the waiting room. Some of the color had returned to his face.
“Was it the police?” Dalton asked.
“No, why?” He seemed almost angry at Dalton’s question even though it had been perfectly reasonable.
“Because a man with a gun is wandering around the woods shooting people, and we were the only witnesses,” Dalton answered with equal anger.
He shook his head. “It wasn’t the police.” Professor North sat several chairs away as if he was a stranger or perhaps just a man who didn’t want to field prying questions from his son.
But a span of a few chairs was not going to deter Dalton. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. “Yeah, why would they call the one eyewitness who didn’t see the strange man running across his property with a gun?”
Professor North scrubbed his face with his hands, and it seemed to revive him some. And now the heat of rage radiated around him. “Damn it, Dalton, what do you want from me? You disappear for months at a time and then you show up all of a sudden with no call or message.”
It seemed that the professor had not really intended to hurt Dalton with the comment, but it had obviously stung, and badly. Dalton slumped back against the chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him, squeezing his thigh on the bad leg as if pinching it would help lessen the pain. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I needed fucking permission to come home. There was a time when I was welcome.”
“No, Dalton, I didn’t mean that. You’re always welcome.” Professor North got up and sat in the chair directly across from Dalton. “I’m just so distraught about Ethan I’m not thinking straight. I was the same when I heard you got hurt in Iraq. I was beside myself with grief. I love you both so much, and I could not survive losing either of you.”
“Then why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on?”
“There’s nothing going on, Dalton. I have no idea who the shooter was. There are a lot of crazy people out there.”
A doctor walked into the room and we pushed to our feet. My heart was pounding.
“Mr. North?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Doctor Mc Grath. We have Ethan stabilized. He’s lost a lot of blood, but the bullet didn’t hit any important organ. We will be taking him into surgery tonight to remove the bullet. It is lodged in his back.”
Professor North nodded weakly. “Is there a chance his spinal cord was injured?”
“We see no damage to the spine or spinal cord. But I must tell you, at this point in time, he is far from being out of danger. We will monitor him closely, of course, and we’ll let you know if there is any change.”
“Can we see him?” Dalton asked.
“He is resting at the moment, but the nurse will let you know when you can see him.”
“Please do,” Professor North said.
The doctor looked at Dalton and me. “You might want to clean up. There’s a restroom around the corner.” He left the room.
Professor North sat down. He glanced around the room. “This room hasn’t changed much since—” He dropped his face into his hands. “My god, I miss her so much.”
Dalton closed his eyes for a second, but he didn’t offer a comforting pat or hug to his dad. He swayed some on his sore leg, and I took hold of his arm. He opened his eyes and looked at me with a mixture of despair, pain and confusion. I reached up and tucked a long strand of hair behind his ear. His eyes drifted shut again as my finger touched his face. Then I reached down and took hold of his hand. Blood had dried across his knuckles and wrist. Without a word, I led him out of the waiting room and around the corner to the bathroom.
I opened the door and turned on the light, and like a sleepy child being led to the bathroom in the middle of the night, Dalton stumbled in as if half drowsy.
He walked forward and stood in front of the mirror. Dried blood was smeared across his chin and his dark green shirt was nearly black and stiff with his brother’s blood. I stepped up behind him and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Even in complete anguish, he stole my breath.
I leaned forward and washed my hands and then pulled his underneath the stream of water. Then I reached up and pulled some paper towels out of the dispenser.
“It should have been me.” I hardly recognized his voice. “It should have been me and then I couldn’t even fucking save him.”
“Dalton, what are you saying? Ethan just happened to be in the wrong place. There was nothing you could have done to stop—”
He dropped his face and shook his head. “I was supposed to be in the lead vehicle. They asked me to ride in the front truck, but the driver was this guy who I hated being around. He was an arrogant asshole. Bryce took my spot so I wouldn’t have to put up with him.” He laughed quietly. “He was worried I might end up being court-martialed for hitting the guy. I was supposed to be up there. Not Bryce.” He gripped the sink hard. “And there was nothing I could do.”
My mind dashed around in frantic circles trying to come up with the right thing to say, words that would provide comfort, but there were none. I touched his arm. “I wish I could say something, anything that would help but those words have to come from inside your own head. And they will someday.”
He lifted his face. I turned on the water and soaked the paper towel. I squeezed between him and the sink and I pressed the wet towel to his chin. He watched me through heavy lids as I cleaned the dried blood from his face. I rubbed the blood from his neck and then looked down at his shirt and smiled faintly. “There just aren’t enough paper towels in the world. I’m afraid this shirt is history.”
“Yours doesn’t look much better.” He looked at me. His green eyes were dark with the horrors of the day. And then he reached out and pulled me into his arms.
Chapter 16
Only next of kin was allowed into Ethan’s room, and I was almost relieved. I dreaded seeing him in a hospital bed with tubes and machines surrounding him. It had been three hours since the shooting, and the doctors were feeling much more optimistic as they prepped him for surgery. The good news seemed to revive Dalton, and for the time being, he appeared to have left behind some of the grim thoughts that had haunted him earlier in the day.
Dalton and Professor North had stayed behind to be briefed by Dr. Mc Grath, and I headed down to the cafeteria for some coffees. For being in a small town, the hospital was amazingly busy, and I had to wait in a long line. The two women in front of me were talking cheerily until they turned around and took note of my sweater. They scooted as far forward as they could, and I really couldn’t blame them.
Even the woman behind the counter could not contain her look of surprise when I stepped up to order. “You must have come in with the gunshot victim,” she said. “Scary thought having some gun-wielding lunatic running around, and just before the holiday.”
“Three coffees please.” Apparently feeling extra sorry for me, she was nice enough to give me a box for the three cups.
I walked over to the condiment stand and filled it with cream and sugar packages.
“August.” I hadn’t heard anyone approach and I jumped when Professor North’s voice came over my shoulder. I hadn’t heard him use my proper name for a long time, and the look on his face made my heart jump.
“Is everything all right?”
He made an effort to push away the serious expression, but the one that replaced it was so forced it was almost creepy. “Everything is fine. They are taking Ethan into surgery as we speak. The nurse gave Dalton an ice pack, and he went somewhere to put up his leg. It was quite swollen.” He paused for a long, dramatic moment and then pushed the words out. “I wonder if I might ask you a favor.”
“Of course, Professor, anything.”
“You may have noticed a small file cabinet in the office at home.”
“Yes, in the corner by the bookshelves.”
“I’m afraid in the frantic moments following the shooting, I completely forgot to get our health insurance paperwork. The woman in admissions needs it to complete Ethan’s forms. It’s in the first folder and it is clearly marked health insurance. I would go myself but—”
“No, of course, you need to stay here. I don’t mind.” The thought of going back to the house alone was somewhat terrifying, but I could certainly do this small task. I would race inside, grab the folder and race back out. I removed my coffee and handed the box to him. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”
His face grew a shade paler, and for a moment, it seemed he might tell me to forget it.
I placed a hand on his arm. “I will be fast and cautious. I would really like to get changed out of this sweater. And I’ll bring a change of clothes for Dalton. We don’t want to scare Ethan when he comes out of the anesthesia.” I flashed him my most reassuring smile.
He nodded hesitantly. “The side door is always unlocked.” He dropped his gaze. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but we’re a bit careless about that.”
“No problem. You should get some rest, Professor. I don’t mean this as an insult, but you look terrible.”
“I will. And thank you, Auggie.”
I headed down the hall and stepped into the elevator. The entire nightmarish scene replayed in my head, but I convinced myself that the shooter was long gone and there was no danger in ret
urning to the house for a few minutes. Certainly, the professor would not have sent me if he thought it was unsafe.
I sipped the hot coffee and walked down the long corridor to the exit.
“Auggie?”
I turned around. Dalton was standing in the center of the hallway.
“Your dad has your coffee. I’ll be right back. He needs some health insurance paperwork from the house, and I’ll get you a new shirt.”
He walked toward me with alarming speed. “You can’t go back there alone. Where the hell is my dad? He’s lost his damn mind.”
“I’ll be fine, Dalton. I’ll park close to the house and then I’ll just dash in and get the papers and shirt. And then I’ll dodge and weave back to the car.” I shifted from side to side to show him that I was quite capable of a dodge and weave maneuver.
“As adorable as you look with that, Auggie, there is still no way in hell you’re going back there alone. I’ll come with you.”
We headed to the exit and I handed him my coffee. “Aren’t you going to let your dad know you’re leaving?”
He shook his head. “I think it’s better if I don’t talk to him right this second.”
“Probably a good idea. Remember he’s gone through a lot today.”
“No, Ethan has gone through a lot. Not Dad. There just isn’t any excuse for him today.”
We got into the car. The rusty colors of dusk were fading to night as we pulled out onto the road. Snowplows had already cleared the light layer of snow that’d fallen earlier in the day. Along the road, houses hidden deep in the snowy woods sparkled with Christmas lights and streams of blue smoke swirled up from chimneys. People were inside enjoying cozy meals, baking cookies and decorating trees. Simple pleasures I’d yearned for and if my mom hadn’t shunned the prospect of a quaint, homey Christmas, I would have been safe at home with my family. I looked over at the man sitting next to me and realized I also would have never met Dalton. It seemed I’d given up one dream for another.