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She turned to me with wet eyes, smiling at me as if I were so innocent and foolish. "He doesn't want to get better, Pearl. That's the problem now," she said.
"Then we have to make him want to," I insisted. "I will not let him drown."
I got up and ran from the lounge, my own tears flying from my cheeks, my heart pounding. I charged out into the corridor, not thinking about where I was headed, and just marched quickly past the rooms, past patients in wheelchairs, past nurses and doctors. I stopped when I realized I had walked to the linen closet. The door opened and Sophie emerged. Her eyes widened with happiness when she saw me.
"Pearl! How you been? Where you been? How's your brother?" she asked. Her arms were filled with sheets and pillowcases.
"Sophie. Oh, Sophie," I said, and the dam holding back my tears broke.
She dropped her pile of linens and embraced me. "You come in here," she said and led me back into the linen room. "Sit down," she ordered, forcing me to sit on a carton. "Now stop wailing and tell me what happened."
"Pierre's very bad," I said after a deep breath. "The doctor's aren't very encouraging."
"Well, the--doctors don't know everything, Pearl. I've seen old people on their deathbed snap their eyes open and start yelling at me for not bringing them their juice or tea fast enough. Why, once they pronounced a man dead and he got up and left the hospital, he was so mad."
"No, they didn't," I said, smiling through my tears.
"I swear," she said holding up her hand. Then she laughed. "I missed you, and a lot's happened here since you've been gone."
"What's happened?" I wiped away the tears with the back of my hand.
"Dr. Weller was asked to leave," she said in a hoarse whisper. "He done something a doctor ain't supposed to do with a young lady patient. There was a big hullabaloo, but everyone tried to keep it squashed. Next thing I heard, he wasn't a doctor here no more."
"What did he do to her?" I asked, holding my breath.
"Nothing much, except make her pregnant," she said, and then her eyes widened. "There's talk the hospital might be sued, too. Guess you're lucky you didn't become his study partner, huh?"
"Yes," I said. "But it's tragic for everyone."
"My mama says you play, you pay. Just remember, I told her, I'm not getting pregnant until I'm married. You want to come with me and get some coffee or tea or juice?" she asked.
"No," I said, standing. "I'd better get back. My mother and father are going to need me more than ever," I said. "Pierre's going into a private room with private nurses."
"I'll look in on him, too," she said. "And I'll say prayers for him and give a donation at the church." "Thank you, Sophie."
We hugged, and I returned to the lounge where Mommy and Daddy were still waiting for Pierre to be moved. We saw him settled comfortably in his new bed, and Daddy and Mommy spoke with the private nurse who was going to take the first shift. Mommy insisted on remaining at Pierre's bedside for the remainder of the afternoon and relented only when Daddy said he was in too much pain to remain at the hospital.
; "We all need some rest now, Ruby," he said. "Otherwise we won't be able to be with Pierre as much as we like."
Reluctantly she agreed, and we went home. Mommy went right up to bed. She and Daddy had a light supper in their room. While I was eating, Aubrey came to tell me I had a phone call from a Monsieur Clovis. I left the table quickly.
"Jack!"
"I didn't want to call too soon. How are things?"
"Not good, Jack. Pierre is in a deep coma again, and the doctors are very pessimistic. They're not saying this in so many words, but I think it would take a miracle for him to recover."
"I'm sorry. I'd like to come to New Orleans, but I don't want to come at the wrong time."
"Any time you come will be the right time, Jack."
"All right," he said. "I'll be there day after tomorrow. Can you recommend an inexpensive hotel?"
"You'll stay here, Jack."
"I can't do that."
