"Forever in My Heart" Pt. 03

The doctor had already moved on. To the nurse he said, "M.I.T. Get me Professor Mitlaff, that's Gustav Mitlaff as soon as you can. Oh and you can send our guest back in."

Seconds later Colton was back in the room staring at the doctor expectantly, "Well?"

"I'm making a call to a Doctor at Sloane-Kettering. Getting another opinion. There're are procedures, brain stimulation. Mr. Stewart I don't want to raise any hopes, but we got something a moment ago, something extraordinary. I've been looking at her eyes, and I checked under a lid. There's rapid eye movement. That doesn't mean anything. Don't get excited. She could be comatose for years and dream every day. But you were here. You said she focused on you."

Colton nodded vigorously.

The doctor went on, but tentatively, "Short of drugs. Believe me; there's not a lot we can do except continue to wait. There just aren't many choices, but this Dr. Mitlaff, he might be helpful."

"You think?"

"I don't know. I want to talk to Sloane-Kettering."

~~V~~

Madeline drove to LeeMaster. It took a lot longer than she thought, but she got the computer, and returned to Saint Isadore's. She went in Chelsea's room. Colton was asleep in a chair beside her bed. Moving closer she nudged him, "Colton?"

A bleary eyed Colton Stewart looked over, "Madeline?"

"I brought her computer. I'll plug it in."

Wiping the sleep from his eyes Colton turned to the computer thinking, 'Maybe there's something there, something that might trigger another response.' Too tired to do anything he watched as Madeline plugged it in and pulled up Chelsea's homepage.

Madeline rolled through Chelsea's documents, her folders, and secured content, "I can't find anything. Do you know what to look for?"

"Not really, but Chelsea has a few things," he looked closer, "what's that?'

Madeline looked too, "A secured folder. Do you have the password?"

Still groggy, head pounding, he responded, "Not a clue," but then, "No wait try 'Heidi'."

Madeline typed Heidi in the indicated space. Presto! The folder opened. She said, "Let's see what's inside."

Together they looked. It was an account, an account attributed to Amazon.

Colton groaned, "Nothing; just on line shopping."

Madeline looked closer, "No it's not. This is a financial account, but not for shopping," she pointed to a balance sheet, "Look see, your girl's got something going here."

Still fuzzy Colton tried to focus, "What do you see?"

"Looks like Chelsea's been writing stories. She's on line selling stories. This is an account detailing her earnings."

Colton was more alert, "You're kidding."

"No. See here," said Madeline, "it's not much. She's got six stories or something. Not much money, maybe $1,200.00, but Chelsea's a writer. Look see? Yes, six titles. There they were. All of them were money makers, not a lot, but something," Madeline turned around and grinned, "She better be careful or the IRS will be after her."

Her attempt at levity was lost on Colton, "What are the titles?"

Madeline took the mouse and moved the curser, "Here see."

Colton read the titles, "Dog Days", "Colton and Chelsea", "Colton Saves the Day", "The Hay Ride", "Camping with Colt", "Chelsea Learns to Ride". He looked at Madeline, "What was she doing? What kinds of stories are these?"

Madeline was incredulous, "You stupid? Chelsea's eighteen, I bet all these stories are for children, and I bet they're all about you," she felt herself losing control, "I swear I remember seeing her at your friend's party; she worships you. I know what you're looking for. You're looking for that something, that thing that might bring her back. Well here it is."

Colton stared at Madeline blankly, "Where is what?"

"You can't be that stupid," she started, you've been trying to stir her up, get her to respond to something. Well haven't you?"

"Yes, I guess... the stories. I'll bet they're about her and me. If I..."

Madeline interrupted, "If you read the stories and spiced them with your comments it might..."

He interrupted right back, "They might be the thing to..."

Together they cited, "The thing that will wake her up."

Through his fatigue he grinned at Madeline, "Jesus I love you."

"No you don't. I wish you did, but," Madeline pointed to the woman on the bed, "you love her, and you just might have the tools you need to return her to life."

Troubled, he wiped away the nervous droplets that had been trickling down his brow. In a deep throaty voice he muttered, "I better get started."

Madeline felt the same desperate sense she saw in him. She was sure it was hopeless, "I have to go back to work," she stood up, "see ya pal," but he wasn't looking, he was already opening one of the documents. As she walked down the hospital corridor she started to weep. She remembered an old song by Shenandoah, "I want to be loved like that... Her dad used to love that group. So did she. She needed to talk to someone. She needed to talk to her dad."

Colton lost track of the other woman. Concentrating on Chelsea he pulled the computer as close to the bed as he could, "Now Chelsea I have here a little story. Let's see, it's titled 'Dog Day'. Let's see, once upon a time there was a little girl, and she..."

~~V~~

Like all the others the next days passed slowly. Chelsea's vital signs remained strong, but she didn't reopen her eyes, at least not while Colton was awake. It didn't matter, Colton read each and every story. When he finished he started again from the beginning. With each and every story he talked to her. He told her he loved her. He told her once she awakened he'd give her anything she wanted.

The news from Sloane-Kettering wasn't helpful; they thought, based on the reports faxed to them that her condition was too sensitive. The house doctor changed tact and conferred with Johns Hopkins; person's there also said to wait and see. So everyone waited, while Colton read.

~~V~~

The money from the community soon ran out, but it had been something. All over Western Pennsylvania people had been tying yellow ribbons around their trees. The gesture was remarkable, wonderful, but they didn't pay the bills.

Detectives Hargreaves and Biscotti were standing outside Chelsea's room when a nurse accosted them, "May I help you?"

Mike Hargreaves displayed his badge, "We've been told we can find Colton Stewart here. Can you help us?"

The nurse nodded toward the badge, "Wait here."

Inside the room, still kneeling at her bedside the nurse approached, "There are two policemen outside who want to see you."

Colton looked up, "Did they say..." he cut off his question and slowly rose. They'd provided a cot, and he normally went from that to her bedside where he dutifully, if futilely did his duty. He told the nurse, "Sure," then he leaned down and whispered into Chelsea's ear, "be right back," he wondered, 'was he going mad?'

In the hallway Detective Hargreaves shared his credentials and asked, "You're familiar with John and Ralph Girty?"

Colton winced, "Yes."

Detective Biscotti asked, "You contacted them not long ago. Care to tell us what about?"

Colton looked from one detective to the other, 'What did he have to lose?' "They're both drug dealers, but I'm sure you know that."

The two detectives gave no indication of any knowledge of such information.

Colton sighed, "Look they are, and I know you know. I mean I don't have any proof, only what I've heard, but I needed money. I thought...," he glanced toward Chelsea's door, "but it doesn't matter now. So what do you want?"

Detective Hargreaves was emotionless when he asked, "Have you seen or heard from your aunt in the past few days?"

"No sir I haven't, but that's her daughter in there. Can I go back?"

Detective Biscotti looked at her colleague, "Do we take him in?"

Colton visibly shook.

Hargreaves seemed to hesitate, then said, "No...we'll wait," he looked at Colton, "We're on to you so don't try anything, he eyed his fellow detective. They appeared to step away to leave, but then Hargreaves turned again, "If you see or hear from your aunt it would be in your best interest to contact us right away", he handed the frightened man his card.

The two detectives left.

Colton, glad he'd failed to reach the Girty brothers took the card and put it in his wallet. He returned to his cousin's room. He went back to his reading. The very next morning he got a call from his brother.

~~V~~

Afraid to leave the hospital Colton met Emit at the hospital cafeteria, "Colt I'm sorry. It's the bills. They're just too much and ..."

Colt nodded and replied, "Irma saw them."

"You understand Colt. We'll do all we can. Maybe if you took her home. There's hospice care too you know."

"No Emit, as long as the hospital allows, I'll handle it."

"How Colt. You're poorer than Jack's piss."

"Don't know yet, but I'll get em covered."

Emit, uncomfortable and eager to leave stood up, "If there's anything else..."

Colton stood up too, "I know Emit; it's all right." As Colt watched his brother leave he felt a great sadness. With Chelsea's mother nowhere and his own mother playing possum at Walmart Emit was about all he had. He started toward the elevator that would lead him back to Chelsea. Well not completely; Madeline kept showing up. He wondered, 'What was her angle'?

'Yeah,' he wondered, why'd she keep hanging around? Since she'd brought the computer she'd been showing up pretty frequently, nearly every afternoon. What was the deal with her? She'd even started bringing carry out, sushi and shit. He didn't even like sushi.' Ate it though. He ate it to please her.

~~V~~

Madeline didn't have much to do. She'd lost interest in work. Everyone else was focused on the 'big project'. Even Jenny seemed to be too preoccupied to talk. All Madeline could think about was Colton; the poor dumb hick who spent all his days and all his nights sitting beside a corpse lying in some bed in a hospital. He'd become her obsession.

She'd tried not to, but she'd started paying him regular visits. She had to. The first thing she noticed were things like his socks were always dirty, and his Tee-shirts, the same ones all the time. It got to be too much, "Colton you're overdoing it here. You've got to go home sometime."

He sat and stared at her, stupefied, "Mom's still feeding the dog?"

"How the hell do I know? Look at yourself," she said, "you're in the same dirty clothes day in and day out. Don't they say anything here?"

He smiled self-consciously, "It's not that bad. They make me go out and sit in the waiting room sometimes."

"Yes, when? But I don't think you've been home since she got here. Tell the truth; you haven't have you?"

"Well I...look; what's it to you?"

"You said you liked me. Remember? Well I like you too. And when have you last eaten anything substantial? You can't live on carry-out and that crap in the hospital cafeteria. You're not helping anybody like this."

"I eat. I eat all the time."

She heaved a heavy sigh, "Let's do this. I'll get you some clean clothes. I'll stop in every afternoon after work and bring you something worthwhile to eat. I'll see that what you have gets cleaned. You have any money?"

"Sure, I have money. I don't need any money."

She had him, "Yeah? The few you have gone home, where do you get money for gas?

"Lay off Madeline. You don't need to come here, and I sure don't need money for gas."

She scoffed, "I know you don't. I looked in your truck. I saw the piece of hose. I saw the gas can. You're stealing gas. How stupid can you be? They'll catch you. Then where will you be? You sure won't be here."

He angrily replied, "Maybe you should mind your own fucking business."

She shot right back, "Maybe I will, and maybe I'll start bringing you some clean clothes, and maybe I'll bring you something to eat once in a while. And by the way-here!" She threw an envelope at him, "Consider this some walk around money. Keep it it's yours. You earned it."

Colton took the envelope and looked inside, "What'd I do?"

Irate and indignant, Madeline rubbed her crotch, "Take the money."

Before he could respond she fled the room, closing the door behind her, just ahead of the envelope that hit the opposite side. She marched rapidly down the hall thinking, 'that man needs help, and I'm going to give it to him... whether he wants it or not.'

So that's how it started; soon she found herself dropping his dirty clothes off at her launderers. She bought him fresh changes of underwear, she got him some toiletries, a comb, and even a new wristwatch, a Timex because she knew he wouldn't take anything better. She knew he needed money so she started dropping the envelopes off in the clean pants. Every afternoon she stopped in, sometimes she stayed, but mostly she didn't. He ignored her anyway. Him ignoring her hurt, but she understood; it was pride, stupid pride that was all'

Then there was one thing more; by accident she saw one of the hospital invoices. She saw to it that Colton would never see another. How did she do it? That was easy. The stupid hick was signing anything and everything people put in front of him. One afternoon she pushed a document in front of him.

He asked, "What's this?"

She replied, "One of those HIPPA things. Just sign it," and he did. It was a paper giving her limited power of attorney. From then on all the hospital bills would come to her.

And the days dragged on...

~~V~~

Colton used his time to further open and examine Chelsea's computer. What he found was tragically wonderful. Aside from the six stories she'd put up there were others either outlined or incomplete.

They were childish things; not all of them about him and her. There were love stories about princesses trapped in harrowing circumstances and other stories about courageous knights all always fighting desperate odds to rescue some deserving and innocent girl. It came as no surprise that the girls all looked like her and her heroes all looked like him.

The tragedy was the money she'd earned. It was labelled 'Colton's College Fund', and for all her work she'd only garnered a scant $1,200.00. She'd been at it for over a year; a year he'd spent pissing away his time shoveling horse shit and drinking beer.

He thought to share his discovery with someone beside Madeline, but dare not. It wasn't his money, they weren't his stories, and be damned, he felt so guilty. He made a promise; 'If she awakened, if she recovered he'd spend the rest of his life, every single day of it, making her happy.'

~~V~~

Madeline checked the clock on the wall behind Hanlon's desk, 9:45 a.m., right on time. He'd done his usual, he'd leaned her over his desk and tried desperately to plug it in. She smirked to herself, 'Getting older, he needed more than just Viagra.'

She'd done all she could. She'd reached behind and helped him slide it in, but he was too flaccid, he just couldn't keep it up. She knew what he really wanted, but she wasn't giving in on that. No way, she'd wrapped her lips around one dick too many in college. Men were scum. Most of them only liked a woman's mouth around their dicks because it made them feel superior. Well she knuckled under to no man, not ever again, not that way!

Just as she was about to reach down to pull her panties and pantyhose up Hanlon reached down, grabbed her panties and pantyhose in one hand, and pulled them up himself, but not letting go. Using the hand that held her panties and hose he pulled her over to the loveseat and forced her to sit down.

She tried to move, but unsuccessful at that she grumbled, "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Holding her left arm in one hand he held her where they sat, "Maddie my dear we have a problem."

She tried to make light of the situation, "I know; you're ruining my clothes."

He sat there and said nothing.

She gave in, "What's gotten into you?"

He didn't smile, "You want more responsibility around here don't you?"

She knew the code and replied, "You know I do."

"Well Madeline if you want to be on the team, you're going to have to step up to the plate."

"I already told you..."

He smiled, but it was one of those smiles where only the mouth evinced any happiness, everything else looked grim and dirty, "The tech project seems to have run onto a reef."

"You're looking at me Mr. Hanlon? I don't know anything about that."

"You will; that is if you want... more responsibility."

Madeline forgot her discomfort, "What do you mean?"

"Seems our techie contact wants a little more than just money. There are... other... requirements."

Madeline wasn't buying, "You've got Dorothy."

Hanlon leered, "Dorothy doesn't play. You do."

"Oh I get it now. So who's the guy, and what's he want?"

Seeing Madeline was just about on board Hanlon got down to business, "Take the afternoon off," he fluffed at her hair, "tidy up a bit. Buy a new dress. Get some new shoes, and no pantyhose! My secretary's got some paperwork outside waiting for you. Use the morning to do your homework. Dorothy and our 'person' will meet you at 5:00 p.m. at the Keystone Inn. Don't be late."

Madeline did the math and mileage in her head. She might not get to the hospital that evening. She smiled at her shithead boss, "You really need me don't you."

He passed her another phony smile, "We need one another."

She stood up, fixed her wrinkled apparel and started for the door.

~~V~~

Colton had gotten into the habit of talking to Chelsea as though she were awake. He never saw any response from her, but it made him feel better. Then again he couldn't, or wouldn't say, sometimes... maybe she was... Who knew?

One comment always led to another; always about what they'd done at home, school, church, or something related to television. Sometimes he and whichever nurse was on duty did notice some small change, perhaps a slight shudder, an almost unnoticeable sigh, a hiccough, once even a giggle. A giggle! Regardless, shifts in the heart monitor had begun to appear with some regularity, and then more frequently. Everyone was very cautiously optimistic. Maybe someday. Maybe even someday soon.

Lately with Madeline in and out Colton believed he sensed even more activity; still, was it possible or just his imagination, he couldn't say. Not many seemed to see what he saw; he wondered, was he going mad? Then something happened!

Colton checked his wrist watch, the one Madeline had 'loaned' him. She was late. Where was she? Since she'd started coming, she'd been regular. This wasn't like her. Had something happened? Was something wrong with her? He wished he'd been more considerate.

Concerned, only slightly concerned he told himself, he squeezed Chelsea's hand, something he did frequently, "Chelsea Madeline isn't here. She should have been by now. I'm going outside and call."

Like and electric shock he felt her hand squeeze tightly around his. "Chelsea," he exclaimed!

Her hand clasped his again.

He exclaimed again, "Chelsea!" He reached across her hand and grabbed the nurse's bell. He rang it. Chelsea's fingers were still tightly grasping his own.

The nurse came in. Colton held up his hand, "Look!"

The nurse pressed both hands to her mouth, "Her fingers! I'll get the doctor," and out she ran.

By the time the doctor arrived Chelsea had let go, but everyone could see the mark. She'd grasped Colt's wrist so tightly that even after several seconds the indentation was still present. Moreover, even at the distance of three feet the doctor could see rapid eye movement. He went to the bed, "What did you say?"

Colton, still looking at Chelsea, holding her limp hand again, responded, "I mentioned my need to leave a moment to see about the woman who stops in every evening."

The doctor said, "Say something. Say it again."