Decision Made Read online

Page 19


  She never got to deliver it and instead, met the point of Jamie’s sword at high speed. The blade punched through her chest. She stared at it, incredulous, then looked at Taigan and vanished like a puff of smoke. Where she had been, a golden key fell onto the flagstones with a tinny sound.

  “Oh, thank God,” Jamie said. He looked like he might vomit. “I don’t think I could have looked at your body that I had just killed.”

  “Yeah, what was with that?” Taigan joked. “You killed me.”

  “Oh, don’t you start!”

  She laughed and went to hug him, then stooped to pick the key up. A single sapphire was set into the end of it. She was shaking. “You don’t think we made a mistake?”

  He shook his head. “I heard some of what you said to her, you know. You said she was in pain and that the people who held her back would also have made her stronger. You were right.” He bent to pick his sword up and slung an arm around her shoulders. “So, uh…what now?”

  Neither of them said anything for a moment. They both knew what now.

  “Prima?” Taigan thought she might cry.

  “I’m here.”

  “I will miss you.”

  “I will also miss you. Both of you. I am glad, though, that I may see you again someday.”

  “You will,” the girl said fiercely. “Of course you will. We’ll come back.”

  Her brother nodded.

  “Good. Now, go. You have people who want to see you.”

  She released a deep breath before she and Jamie looked at one another and nodded. Resolute, she slid the key into the lock of the outer door and turned it. Warmth flooded through her when it clicked into place. Opening the door, even a crack, showed light gleaming out, bright and yet soft. This was no inferno.

  They walked into the shining light together.

  A deep breath of shockingly cold air made Taigan gasp and choke. Her throat felt like hell. Her eyes jerked open and squeezed shut again.

  Honestly, she hated this part.

  She was used to it, after all, and had been through it over ten times. By now, she knew how much it sucked to wake up with no muscles and her eyes unused to light and a feeding tube down her throat. As was usual, she twitched her hands reflexively.

  Despite the familiar process, she didn’t know why she reacted that way. It was kind of like pressing on a bruise. She wanted to know how weak she was and run up against that wall.

  To her surprise, her arm flailed in response. She opened her eyes, winced at the light, and felt the impact as her now falling hand smacked into something.

  “Ow,” a voice muttered.

  “Emmy?” Well, that was what she intended to say. It came out more like “eh-ee” around the feeding tube.

  “Taigan?” A blob that looked somewhat like Emmy’s face swam into view. “How are you using your arms already?”

  “I-oh-oh.”

  “Hi—can someone get the feeding tube out of her throat?” Her sister looked around.

  Medical professionals coalesced in her focus, another common experience. She waited patiently while she was lifted off one surface and put on another, a process that involved some bruises and tenderness, and then was extubated.

  It made her gag, which it always did.

  She was put on a very faint incline in a dim room and shapes began to resolve. Her eyes still stung and she blinked. She flailed her hands a few times to reassure herself that she could. Her legs moved on their own too.

  Something warm touched her hand and squeezed her fingers.

  “Hey,” Jamie said. His voice was weak and hoarse.

  “Don’t try to talk yet,” one of the nurses advised quietly.

  “Jamie?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Or don’t listen to me.” The nurse sounded more amused than upset. “All I’m saying is that your throats will hurt a fair amount tomorrow.” Taigan could feel him changing out some of the IVs. “All right, all of you. They can’t talk much and they may get very tired, so don’t be alarmed. But you can certainly speak to them and their vision will improve rapidly.”

  She squinted through the haze and identified three circles with dark hair on two and gray on one. Emmy, Mom, and Dad. She squeezed her fingers again to remind herself that Jamie was still there.

  “You’re back,” Emmy said quietly. “Both of you. And you look better than the other times.”

  “Is…did they say—is she cured?” Her brother’s voice sounded like it came through a badly-tuned radio, full of white noise. He coughed and made a pained sound.

  This was all new to him, she remembered.

  “Jamie,” his mother said, and there was some panic there.

  Taigan tried to lie still but she so wanted this to be done, to be over, and to be finished. Please, please, please.

  “We do have good news, actually.” She couldn’t see the speaker but she could hear his voice. “As you can see, Taigan’s brain activity is still being monitored and we have isolated the unusual activity that causes her to go into a coma.”

  “You have?” Her father sounded so hopeful that she wanted to cry.

  “Yes. You can see it here. Compare it to Jamie’s.”

  “So, that’s what causes it,” Emmy said quietly. “But…she’s awake.”

  “Precisely.” The man sounded quite pleased. “We see this pattern in many people who are transitioning phases within sleep as well as during the day. Most people do not fall into sleep when this pattern is present unless they are already tired and in a place where they would normally fall asleep. For some reason, Taigan did not seem to have that skill. Oh, and by the way, the intensive virtual reality tends to create low-level muscle activation, which results in the strength difference you’re seeing.”

  She squinted and finally made out a man in a white lab coat. He was pointing at something, or at least she was sure he was.

  “Wait, so that skill—she now knows it?” Taigan’s mother asked.

  “Precisely. As you can see, her brain is still producing those waves and she is conscious.”

  “I can’t—” Talking hurt. Taigan trailed off into coughs. “Can’t…see. Talk. But I’m here. Don’t talk about me.”

  “Taigan.” Her mother’s voice trembled with emotion. She came close to grasp her hand and her shaking was immediately evident. A tear dropped onto the hand her mother held. “You’re here. You’re awake. It’s different this time, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” She barely got the word out. Her other hand was picked up, this one by her father.

  “It is different.” Her father rocked rhythmically. She had never seen him cry but she knew she was about to hear it now. “You came back to us. Your brother and sister were right to tell us to do this treatment.” After a little jostle of movement, Emmy appeared at her father’s side.

  “Hello,” Jamie said plaintively from the other bed. “I’m alone over here.”

  “Sorry, Jamie.” Emmy hightailed it to his bed. “You were her bodyguard! How did that go?”

  “He also killed me,” Taigan muttered. Her voice didn’t hurt any less but she didn’t care. She had wanted this desperately—the conversation and the jokes.

  “Yeah, that’s right. You stabbed your twin sister.” Emmy tapped him on the chest. “What’s that about?”

  “No. It was her evil twin!”

  “So…you?”

  “Hey!”

  Taigan laughed. It hurt but she couldn’t stop. She tried to sit and couldn’t manage it, but the strength was truly different now than it had ever been before when she came out of a coma. She rolled her head sideways and was able to make Jamie’s face out, and Emilia’s. She smiled.

  “You two look all shaggy and weird,” her sister said. “Jamie has this crazy patchy beard happening.”

  “He gets that from me,” their father said glumly. “I was never able to grow a beard either. Sorry, son.”

  “’S okay,” her brother managed. He cleared his throat and coughed. “Ow. S
o, what now?”

  “Now, the boring part,” another nurse interjected. “A range of diagnostics, some basic PT, and considerable rest. You two need to regain your strength.”

  “Right.” Taigan sighed.

  “Oh, and one other thing.” Emilia sounded smug. “You’re on the clock this time.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means…” She was smiling. “That you both got into NYU. So, chop-chop on the PT.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Taigan’s phone buzzed and she gave it a look before she wrapped both her hands around a bedpost and hauled determinedly. The bed squeaked across the floor and she moved to the other side to push it against the wall.

  Finally. She stared at it, panting. A dented bed against a cinderblock wall. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing most people dreamed of.

  But she had never thought she would get to see most of this.

  She picked her phone up off the similarly dented desk and smiled.

  You’re late.

  Setting up some last things, she texted in response. I’ll be there soon.

  The sheets and the comforter were already on the bed. Her clothes were hung in the closet. There weren’t many of them. She and Emilia had intended to go shopping, but with PT running long and all the usual chaos at the start of the school year, they hadn’t managed to do that yet.

  So three pairs of jeans and ten t-shirts would have to do for now. She’d eventually find something else.

  She looked around and sighed. Organizing her room was, in reality, a not very successful way to keep herself from panicking about the fact that she was there and she had no idea what was coming. When the door opened, she jumped.

  The girl who poked her head into the room had dirty-blonde hair and bright purple lipstick.

  “Come on. Dinner’s open.”

  “Really?” She gave her a suspicious look. “And is it food this time?”

  “Nope,” the other girl said cheerfully. “And it never will be. Come on.”

  Taigan grinned and went out the door before she remembered her keys and darted in to get them and lock the door. Then she realized she had forgotten her phone. By the time she arrived at the elevator, she was panting.

  Hayley pressed the down button and grinned at her. Short and stocky, she was in many ways Taigan’s exact physical opposite with one important exception. They were both incredibly fast runners. They had met during an impromptu game of frisbee on the lawn the day before and had stayed up until two AM talking.

  It was these kinds of things that made her want to spontaneously combust, she was so happy. Never in her life had she had the complete freedom to go from activity to activity completely on her own.

  And without tracking her movements obsessively in case she went into a coma.

  The fact that she could do whatever she wanted to was dizzying. She could stop and play frisbee on the way back from lunch. If she wanted another notebook, she could go to the campus store. Little things no one else cared about were wondrous for her.

  Once out of the elevator, they turned to the left and pushed into the sunlight. Knots of people streamed toward the dining hall, including at least one familiar face. She stuck an elbow out and caught Jamie in the arm.

  “Hey!” He grinned at her. “Taig, this is Kyle. He’s in my French class.”

  Taigan waved at Kyle and gestured to Hayley. “This is Hayley. She’s a fellow frisbee enthusiast.”

  “You didn’t bring many clothes,” he reminded her. “You can’t afford to get any of them covered in grass stains.”

  “That’s what soap is for, jackass.”

  They checked in to dinner, picked trays up, and wound through the various stations. She chose what looked the best out of the various over-baked, over-boiled, over-fried entrees, added vegetables from the salad bar, and headed off to locate her friends. When she found them, Hayley and Kyle were engaged in a debate about the best Star Wars films, while Jamie wolfed food down and listened in amusement.

  She prodded a chicken breast dubiously with her fork.

  “What’s that sauce?” he asked.

  “It looks like sweet and sour.” She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, though. It could be anything. One sec.” She cut a mouthful, took a moment to steel herself, and popped it into her mouth. “Nope, it didn’t help. I still have no idea but it’s vaguely salty.”

  “At least we won’t get the Freshman Fifteen,” Kyle pointed out.

  “That’s true unless we decide to leave and go get French fries at the grill.” Taigan wiggled her eyebrows. “I, for one, intend to go a little crazy this semester.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Jamie said in a stage whisper, “but she thinks that getting French fries is being crazy.” He winced and yelped when she kicked him under the table.

  “That’s the kind of crazy I can get behind,” Hayley interjected. “French fries are cheap, as drugs go, and your parents never get on your case about them.”

  “See? She gets it.” Taigan gulped her soda.

  It was surprising how fast the time seemed to pass now, she thought. It didn’t seem like more than a few minutes later that she realized they’d been seated there for an hour and a half. They were still talking—and, in the case of Kevin and Hayley, arguing about Star Wars—when they returned their trays and snatched cookies to take with them.

  Their paths diverged near the dorms and they waved. The twins gave each other a fist bump.

  “It’s nice that you two get along,” Hayley said. “My brother and I…uh, don’t have any similar interests.”

  “I’m sorry.” She munched on her cookie.

  “Nah, that’s normal. And I think maybe it’s different with twins? All the twins I know tend to be close, like you two, or they hate each other.”

  “I’m glad that’s not us.”

  “Yeah, right? It’s crazy how you ended up at the same college.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled around her cookie and decided not to mention that there had been some subterfuge involved.

  “Do you want to come up?” Hayley asked at the branch-off to her dorm. “We planned to make popcorn and hang out in the common room.”

  “I’ll be there in a while. There’s still a little decorating to do.” Taigan smiled and wandered off.

  In her room, she looked around and sighed. It was a happy sigh, to be fair. She had never envisioned living completely alone in a life that didn’t revolve around her parents or Jamie or the ever-present specter of comas.

  Now, as one of the few people in her dorm with a single room, she found herself unexpectedly isolated. Everyone else she knew who had a single hated it—they were small enough that there had been legal issues—but she was enjoying the quiet.

  With one exception. She hopped onto her bed and pulled her phone out. See? I went out and had dinner.

  Yes, I’m so proud. Prima’s snark wasn’t an ever-present part of Taigan’s life, but she sometimes thought of jokes the AI would make and she still maintained contact by text.

  What’s on the docket tonight? she asked. She and Prima had been studying different aspects of human culture, mainly in the area of humor.

  Slapstick, Prima responded. I’ve queued up an anthology of videos.

  She snickered and slid her laptop off her desk, opened it, and clicked the link the AI had sent. The first few—old Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin clips—made her snicker, but the Pink Panther clips were where she started to laugh helplessly.

  By the time the video was over, she was sobbing with laughter and holding her sides. Every muscle in her stomach hurt and she was fairly sure she had barely avoided throwing up once or twice.

  You can’t do things like that, she texted, still giggling. I’m getting my strength back.

  I’ve heard numerous stories about laughter and humor being very good aids to health, Prima said primly. Now, tell me what’s so funny about slapstick—and spare no detail. I enjoy the sight of humans being completely c
lobbered, but I understand that’s not the whole point.

  Could you not pretend to be a demonic overlord for one freaking minute? she typed. Hmm. Thinking. Okay, here it is…

  In the lab, Amber watched the discussion on the screen. She had also enjoyed the videos and she realized that she didn’t know quite what made slapstick so funny.

  She, on the other hand, preferred the Buster Keaton sketches to the modern ones.

  “What are you watching?” Jacob asked her. He came to lean on the back of her chair.

  “Prima and Taigan are talking about comedy.”

  He frowned and leaned closer to read through the text messages. “Are we worried about her socializing at school?”

  “Not that I know of. Jacob, she’s having a very unusual experience right now. She needs all the friends she can get, especially the unusual ones.” Amber shrugged. “Plus, better Prima showing her slapstick videos than someone trying to get her to try drugs or something.”

  “True.” He nudged her foot with his own. “So…we aren’t living in a bugged apartment anymore.”

  “I’ll get my coat.” She shut her computer off in a hurry and followed him out of the room at a jog.

  The AI watched them go and hummed happily to herself. Everyone was settling into their lives where they were supposed to be, and it made her happier than she had expected. She spent a while perusing the various patients as they adventured through the lands of PIVOT, then checked in on Dotty. The woman was alone in her house, drinking a cup of tea and staring out at the fields with a smile.

  Quiet. Content. Happy. And with some spell work on the table behind her and charts and materials laid out.

  Prima smiled. Everything was as it should be.

  THE END

  Creator Notes - Michael Anderle

  As I mentioned earlier, Decisions Made potentially ends my effort the tell stories of what we might do in the health care community using technology in new and different ways.

 

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