The sounds around her were strange, yet familiar. Whirls and soft beeps surrounded her; the sound of rubber squeaking on a tiled floor and the low murmur of voices filled her mind.
Opening her eyes, she continued to see darkness. It all seemed familiar, but not knowing what was happening, she began to panic. An alarm sounded as her heart rate increased.
A soft hand touched her arm, and a gentle voice called to her, "It's all right, Sweetie. Just calm down. My name is Tina Byers. I'm a nurse." The nurse continued the light contact with the woman as she called to another nurse, "Louisa, call her doctor. Tell him she's awake." Turning back to her patient, she asked, "Do you remember your name?"
Her mind raced as she tried to remember her name, what happened, where she was. Pain in her shoulder and back caused her to stop moving. Tears began to stream down her face as she realized that none of her questions or of the female beside her, could be answered.
"Oh, Honey, it's going to be all right. Do you know where you are?" Tina asked as she dabbed at the tears that overflowed from her patient's eyes.
"N-No. Pl-please tell me. I don't know anything, and it's so dark in here."
"Well, you're in the hospital. There was an accident at the mall where you were. They brought you here yesterday. There wasn't any identification on you, so we were hoping you could tell us your name."
"I-I don't remember," she whispered.
"Well, don't worry. I'm sure we'll find out soon. Rest now, OK? If you need me, just mash this button." Tina showed the patient the button as Christmas carols softly played over the intercom system.
Nurse Byers walked back to the desk as she listened to "I'll Be Home For Christmas". Of the two patients she was tending, it looked as if only one would be home for the holidays -- only if she could remember where her home was.
**
It had been twenty-four hours since the bombs exploded at the mall, killing 217 and injuring over a hundred, sending them to various hospitals in the city. No one had taken responsibility for the three bombs that shredded the building, shattering the lives of those that worked or shopped there.
Kermit listened to the news in the hospital waiting room, refusing to leave the building. Around him, life and routine went on. Lunch trays were brought to patients as nurses continued to give out medication and do their charting. Doctors and nurses went through the pneumatic doors that sealed off ICU from the rest of the floor. Every two hours during the night, the staff had allowed Kermit or one of the other detectives in to visit their friend.
Mary Margaret brought a thermos of coffee and donuts to share with Kermit while they waited on the doctor.
The sound of the automatic doors opening caused both officers to turn and see a doctor walking toward them. "Mr. Griffin? I'm Mr. Caine's doctor. My name is Doctor Byers."
Kermit stood, shaking hands with the doctor. "How is he?" Kermit had said those words so many times during the night that they had become habit.
"Better, but he still has a long way to go. The nurses are taking him off the ventilator and we'll move him to the floor in about two hours. I want him in the step down unit so he can still get more attention than what he'd get on a regular floor. Were you able to find his mother?"
"No. We found her purse on the lower level next to what was left of a man. They are still searching the rubble for more bodies," Mary Margaret answered. "We've checked the hospitals, there is no Annie Blaisdell anywhere. We are waiting on Jane Does that fit her description. With so many people being injured, it's taking longer to get any information."
"Well, maybe the airports will open and his father can come home. He needs family and friends to support him, especially when he wakes up. I can't guarantee his eyesight will come back." Dr. Byers was interrupted by a special bulliten on the television. Three more bodies had been found under slabs of concrete. One was a woman; the other two were men.
Mary Margaret took the dismal task of going to the morgue to see if the body was that of her boss's wife.
The hours passed slowly, with no news on either Paul or Annie Blaisdell. Peter was moved out of the intensive care unit and put into a room, as the doctor had promised. He was now on pain killers that kept him in a dream-like state, only briefly aware of his surroundings when the medication started wearing off.
A low moan signaled Kermit that his friend was in pain. He watched as Peter's eyes slowly fluttered open, though still half-lidded and heavy with exhaustion. "How you feeling, Kid?"
One hand touching tentatively to his eyes to see if they had followed his command to open, Peter panicked. "Kermit? I-I can't see. Wh-where are we?"
"You're in the hospital, Peter. Just try and relax. The doctor said your brain took a beating, along with your lungs. You can't move around too much; you'll pull that tube out."
"Wh-where's Mom? Sh-She'll be frightened, Kermit." Peter pushed aside his panic as the memory of a blind woman, his foster mother, came to his mind's eye. "I-I want to s-see her."
"Don't worry; she's fine. You need to go back to sleep." Kermit reached for the nurse call button as Peter grimaced with pain from talking too much.
"You said sh-she would be here. Got-got to tell her…"
"No, you have got to rest. Now, here's the nurse. She'll give you something for the pain."
As the drug quickly took over Peter's body, numbing nerve endings and lulling him to sleep, he fought mildly. "Kermit, I c-can't see. I w-want to s-see Mom."
"I know, Kid. I know." Kermit watched Peter's breathing become slower and steadier as sleep took over.
**
The white-collared priest entered the room after knocking on the door. Jane Doe sat in the under-stuffed chair that sat beside her bed. The TV was on; reports continued to talk about the terrible tragedy that had struck their community. Nurse Byers had brought her a light blue nightgown, saying that hospital gowns were not meant to be worn for more than one day. "May I come in?"
"Sure. You here for blood or to make me walk?"
His sallow cheeks grew red. "Neither. My name is Brother Emanuel. The staff said you might be in need of some housing assistance."
"I'd tell you my name, but at this time, I don't seem to know what it is. As for housing assistance, I appreciate the offer. What I really need from everyone is to find out who I am." Jane tried to keep her voice polite, but all the sympathy from the staff had started grating on her nerves.
"You are watching the news about the bombing. Does is bring back any memories at all?"
"Brother, I am not watching anything. I am listening. In case they haven't told you, I can't see. They think that maybe I have been blind for a long time. If so, what was I doing in a mall? If I was there with someone, they may have been killed, or may even be looking for me now and I don't know who I am, so they can't find me." Her words and feelings rolled out as tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them away. It felt right to shed these feelings, or at least share them.
**
A soap opera played on the TV while Kermit sat next to Peter's bed. Kermit watched as a woman told her husband that the child he thought they'd had together was actually his brother's child.
Kermit was glad when the show went off. Soap operas were too close to real life. The network news came on; their main story remained the bombing, its victims and the toll on the holiday season.
"I'm Sandra Mason with Channel 3 Action News, reporting live from the hull of what used to be the Galleria Mall. Over 200 people were killed here yesterday morning. More than 100 were injured and a dozen remain missing. One of those, I am told, is Annie Blaisdell, the wife of Paul Blaisdell, Captain of the 101st Precinct here in Chinatown."
Belatedly Kermit moved to change the station, hoping Peter hadn't heard Mason's report, hoping the medication had kept the younger man in a deep sleep.
His hopes were dashed when Peter gasped. "You-you lied to…me. She's…she's dead, Kermit."
"Peter, I'm sorry. I didn't want…"
"Didn't want what?" Peter tried to sit up but the tube sutured to his chest prevented him from moving very far. The little movement and shouting left him breathless and drenched in sweat. "Did-didn't want m-me to k-know that I-I lost my mom? That I killed her?" Peter panted out as he realized that had he not left Annie alone, they'd be together now.
"Missing, Peter, not dead. Sandra Mason didn't say she was dead." Kermit tried to reassure Peter, pushing him back toward the bed while calling for the nurse. "What we do know is that her purse was found on the bottom floor. Why was she there?"
Swallowing hard, Peter looked toward the sound of Kermit's voice, "She wasn't. I-I left her s-sitting on a bench just d-down from the Rail Shop. P-Paul? Does h-he know?"
"I called him when they brought you in. He's been snowed in at the airport."
Once again, the nurse came in and gave Peter medication to make him relax. She placed an oxygen mask over his face when she saw his ashen color. "I need him to rest. Why don't you go down and get some coffee?"
Peter's leaded eyes closed as his color improved to a pasty white.
Kermit nodded and left the room, understanding the reason behind his dismissal.
Kermit walked into the snack bar. It was full of visitors and employees. Getting a cup of coffee, he sat at the only table left unoccupied. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't see or hear the intruder until the white-bearded man sat in the chair next to Kermit.
"I'm sorry, there is no other place to sit," the man apologized when Kermit scowled.
Seeing that the intruder merely spoke the truth, Kermit nodded. He looked at the red suit the man wore and the empty bag slung across his shoulder. "You playing Santa for the kiddies?"
Sipping on his cup of hot chocolate, the stranger smiled and blushed, causing his fat cheeks to turn red. He rubbed at his small nose with a handkerchief. "So sad that they have to be here for the holidays. You have family in the hospital?"
Kermit didn't know why, but he felt compelled to tell this man his secrets. "A friend, actually." He tried to resist, strengthening his shields, paying attention to the coffee cup and how easily the styrofoam gave in to the pressure.
"He a close friend?"
"Reminds me of my brother. My friend was one of the victims in the mall."
The older man watched Kermit tear the cup. "A lot of people died there, I understand. Some of the children I visited lost one or both of their parents. A few even lost a sibling."
Not aware that he and the stranger now sat alone in the snack bar, Kermit mumbled, "The kid may have lost his mother, also." Then anger came back into Kermit's heart. "Dammit, I need to be out there, helping them search for her."
Keeping his voice calm, the stranger replied, "Then why aren't you?"
Kermit hadn't expected the question. It caused him to pause, his anger abaited for a time. "Peter needs someone here with him. If Annie is…dead, he needs to hear if from a friend. Now, let me ask you a question. How can you pretend to be someone who doesn't exist? Kids make wishes and you're suppose to grant them, but you don't. You're not real!" Kermit got up and began to storm from the room when he was stopped by the stranger's question.
"If Santa were real and could grant your or Peter's wish, what would it be?"
Without hesitation, Kermit answered what weighed heavily in his heart. "That my friend could see his parents again." He added, "Let's see how well Santa can deliver that." Kermit walked out.
"That is more of a job for Christ, Kermit," the stranger said to Kermit's receding back.
The caress to his cheek startled Peter awake. Preparing himself for the darkness that now stayed with him both in wakefulness and sleep, Peter opened his useless eyes. "Wh-who?" "It's me, son," Paul answered, unable to prevent the tremble in his voice.
"D-Dad, th-they said you w-were snowed in a-at Chicago."
Placing his fingers over Peter's lips to quiet him, Paul smiled. "My Christmas wish was to be here with you and…"
Quiet filled the room as Paul remembered his wife. While in Chicago, he knew he'd see her again. Being here with Peter, the fact of Annie missing was more than he wanted to admit.
"M-Mom," Peter finished for him. "I-I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. No one knew the mall was going to be destroyed. She'll be back."
The news story had left Peter with doubts of ever seeing again the woman he called mom. He'd lost her just like he'd lost his real mother. "I-I shouldn't have l-left her a-alone." "Don't blame yourself, Peter. We'll find her."
Peter turned his head away.
Knowing Peter would talk when he was ready, Paul sat in a chair next to the bed. This was his first Christmas Eve without Annie since they'd been married.
Kermit came back in from his visit to the snack bar and the strange man who looked a lot like Santa. He didn't miss the silence in the room as Paul held Peter's hand while Peter himself feigned sleep. "Paul, why don't you go on and get something to eat. Mary Margaret and Blake said they'd be in touch if they found anything. They're still checking area hospitals for Jane Does. Dr. Byers said there were several in this hospital. His wife works at one across town. She told him that they had several also."
Letting out a tired sigh, Paul unclasped Peter's hand and left the room.
The chapel was quiet. Votive candles burned brightly on the altar, giving a glow to the cross that sat behind it. A stained-glass window depicted a dove flying off with an olive branch in its beak. The pews were empty as Paul walked in and sank into the nearest seat. Bowing his head, he began to pray silently.
Feeling like he was being stared at, Paul looked up to a white-robed man, complete with clerical collar. Ebony hair draped the man's face as he stood next to the altar. The dark brown eyes were piercing, but the face was kind. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
"I didn't hear you come in." Paul calmed his racing heart. Too much caffeine combined with too little rest or news about his wife made him quick to startle. "How long have you been standing there?"
The priest walked over to Paul, feeling the man's disquieted soul call out. "For just a few minutes. I'm Father Emanuel. You looked very tired and sad. I didn't want to interrupt your talk with God."
"Sometimes I wonder if he really hears me," Paul murmured, half to himself.
"Why do you say that, my son?"
"What? Oh, it's just that in my line of work I have had to do some things that weren't in keeping with the Ten Commandments."
"And you think that God will hold that against you?" The priest now sat beside Paul, talking softly, exuding a friendly comfort.
"My son, foster son, is in the hospital, blind. My wife is missing. What else could it be? Maybe I'm being punished for my past. All I want God to know is that if he wants to punish me, then make me blind or kill me. Don't hurt my family. They don't deserve to be punished for my mistakes."
"If one of your daughters made a mistake, would you punish the other?" The priest watched as Paul shook his head, disbelief on his face. "Then why would our Father want to punish those we love for our sins? Look at what He did for His son. We celebrate Christmas tomorrow, a day of love and family, a day many hold as the day of the birth of Christ, who came to save us from our sins, not punish those around us for our mistakes. I have to go and help someone." The priest left Paul with his thoughts as the clock struck midnight.