The Call Read online

  “Sorry, son. I’ll be able to tell you more after the MRI. I’ll be back to get her when we bring Mr. Stone back in.”

  I stop him. “Elijah.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “His name is Elijah. She loves him. His existence is why she didn’t perish in that intersection yesterday. It's why she didn’t pass out like he did until he was taken from her sight. His life is what’s keeping her in the balance. I just thought you should know that.”

  Sam’s grip on my arm tightens.

  “Good to know. Elijah will be back shortly.”

  They start to wheel him out. “Doc?”

  “Yes?”

  “Devon, where will I find him if I need him?”

  He smiles. “You’ll find your brother in the chapel cussing God out. The mouth on that boy when he was sixteen…” He laughs and shakes his head. “I can't imagine what it's like now.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Sam turns to me. “Could you eat if I went down to the cafeteria and brought food back up? I’m gonna send your aunt in while I’m down there.”

  “If they’ve got fried chicken and mashed potatoes, could you bring some up? Please.”

  “Okay. I love you, Damon.” She kisses my cheek.

  “I love you too, Sam. I’m sorry I haven’t been of very much comfort.”

  “It's okay sweetie, this isn’t your first rodeo and we at least know something about Elijah. I’ll be back. Give her a kiss for me.”

  When she leaves the room, I go and sit on the side of Reagan’s bed. I take her hand in both of mine and press it to my lips. “Reagan, I don’t know if you can hear me. They say that when one twin hurts, the other can feel it. And when something major happens to one, the other can tell. Do you want to know what happened a few minutes before Devon called me?

  “I was about to go in the bathroom and make myself puke, hoping that it would make my stomach feel better. Once Sam and I got home from your house, I started to feel queasy, my stomach was in knots. But the second my phone rang, it went away. Only to double when Devon told me what had happened.

  “I know it sounds silly, but somehow, my body knew something was wrong. I miss you, brat. I can't imagine a world where you’re not here to be a pain in my ass. You’re literally my other half. Don’t make me know what life is like without you in it. You tie us all together and keep us in line.

  “You may be tiny but you’re a scary little shit. I think we’re so scared of you when you get pissed because you look like Mom did whenever we were caught doing something that we weren’t supposed to be doing.

  “You remember when we got into the pantry and ate the marshmallows and Hershey bars that Mom was saving for the Fourth of July? She about had fits. I don’t know if she was more pissed that they were gone or that it was ten o’clock and we were supposed to be in bed, not loading up on sugar.”

  “I think it was a little of both. You two were, and are, an ornery couple of kids.” I turn around to see Aunt Kathy standing a few feet behind me. “I saw Devon pass by, same look he had fourteen years ago. He’ll be okay. Just needs to sort out his thoughts.”

  “Yeah, the doc was apparently an intern during that time. Says Dev will be in the chapel cussing God out.”

  She laughs. “Yeah there’s no doubt about that. How’s our girl doin’?”

  “Doc says he’ll know more after he gives her an MRI.”

  “Ah, is that where he’s got Abraham?”

  “Yeah, how’s Uncle Peter doing?”

  She smiles in a way that I’ve never seen her smile before, but it's about the same way that Reagan smiles at Abraham. “He’s okay. Keeping his mind busy by worrying about the rest of us.”

  “Aunt Kathy? Do I sense a little crush? That might be weird.”

  “Oh child, hush. No one asked the peanut gallery. I’m old. I’ll do what I want.” She smiles and nudges my shoulder.

  “Ornery.”

  »»•««

  Reagan

  I smell chicken. God, does food smell good. Ah. Orgasmic. It dulls the pain in my head for a moment. When I try to swallow, I start to choke. Oh God. Fuck that hurts. What the hell? Shit. My hands won’t move to my throat. They won’t lift when I tell them to.

  »»•««

  Devon

  “You can't fucking do this to us again. I won’t allow it. If you need someone up there, then you take me. You leave her alone. Bring her back around. I won’t stand for this. Mom, if you’re there, I need help. Damon and I can't lose her. Mom please let her stay. She’s the only piece of you that I have left. Please Mom. Help us.”

  “Devon! Come quick! She’s rejected the breathing tube.” I turn to see Sam standing in the doorway, out of breath and hunched over grabbing her side. “Come on!”

  I start to run, run like my life depends on it. Looking up at the ceiling, I whisper, “Thank you, Mom. Thank you. I love and miss you.”

  I burst through the door to her room following Abraham’s bed that a nurse is wheeling in after his scan. Damon is sitting on her bed, wiping around her mouth with a wet rag. The rag that once was white is now copper-colored from all the dried blood. “What happened?”

  Damon turns his body smiling at me. “She smelt fried chicken and mashed potatoes.”

  “What?” I don’t think I heard him right.

  “I had Sam bring up some fried chicken and mashed potatoes from the cafeteria. I wafted the chicken over the tube to her nose. She started rejecting the breathing tube. She’s breathing Dev. Reagan is breathing on her own.”

  He stands and I hug him. “I fucking love your beautiful brain.”

  “What can I say, I’m a genius.”

  I grab his head and kiss it. “I love you, little brother.” After squishing him to me again, I let him go and go to Reagan. “Reagan, come home. Come home to us.”

  »»•««

  Abraham

  Love? “Angel? Who are the voices talking about?”

  Her head is in my lap and I’m stroking her hair. “Me.”

  “You? But you’re here. Where are the voices?”

  “All around us. You just need to remember, Abraham. I can't tell you, stud. It's your call, Abraham.”

  “But how do I make the call? How do I remember? And when I get there, will you be there?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll be there or not. That’s your call too. I’ll be there if you want me there. You have to help me find me.”

  “What does that even mean? Why are you so vague, sweet girl… Sweet girl… My sweet girl…”

  »»•««

  Damon

  It's two o’clock in the morning and I get to stay with Reagan and Abraham tonight. Mickey had to go to the shop and call a bunch of disgruntled customers. Kate had to go back home, sleep in a regular bed, and take her vitamins before her prenatal appointment tomorrow. I sent Devon to pick up Princess and take her over to Abraham and Reagan’s, and feed them and Duchess. He wasn’t too happy about it but I didn’t really give him a choice. Sam went home to fill in our soon-to-be ex-roommate, Max, as to what was going on, and to shower.

  Aunt Kathy and Uncle Peter snuck off somewhere. I’m betting they snuck off to Uncle Peter’s, since it’s closer. Boy, are Abraham and Reagan gonna be surprised when they wake up. I haven’t told anyone else about those two because we’ve bigger things to worry about.

  The night nurse, Maggie, comes in. “Aren’t you gonna sleep at all, sugar? You and your brother are gonna get sick. You boys need to sleep.”

  “I’ll be all right Mags. At least I’m layin’ on the cot and not the floor, right?”

  “I suppose I’ll take it. You never know though, if you fall asleep, maybe one of them will be awake when you open your eyes.”

  “Like Santa?”

  “What?” She cocks her head at me.

  “Like Santa. Mom always told us that he wouldn’t come until we were asleep.”

  She starts laughing. “Then yes, like
Santa. Get some rest child. It’ll do ya good.”

  “I’ll try Mags. Only for you.”

  “That’s all I ask. Just try.”

  »»•««

  Reagan

  Who’s laughing? It sounds familiar. “Abraham? Abraham, are you there?”

  He fades in from the darkness. “I’m here, sweet girl. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m so tired. But I can't sleep. Everything hurts and I can hear people talking but I can't see them. When I try to focus hard enough to talk, my head throbs. Can you tell me yet?”

  “I wish I could, baby girl. I really do. I can't yet.”

  “But I’m so tired. Maybe if I knew where we are, or what we are, maybe I could fall asleep. Please Abraham, I just want to sleep for a little while and forget about the pain. It hurts so much.”

  “Baby, please don’t cry. It will be okay. I’m here. It's going to be okay. I love you, Reagan Nichole.”

  “I love you too, Abraham. See you soon.” He fades back out and I lie down in the grass.

  »»•««

  Devon

  I don’t care how weird it might be. I’m lying in Reagan’s old bed that’s been moved to one of the guest rooms. With the smell of her pillow, I’ve managed to get about two hours of sleep. Looking at the clock on the bedside table, it reads four thirty in the morning. “Ugh!”

  Princess sits up next to me and yawns. “Don’t get used to this, little miss. Our bed at home isn’t big enough for both of us anymore and the new one isn’t coming for another week or so.” She huffs and shakes her head, causing her ears to flop back and forth.

  Reaching for my phone I shoot Damon a text.

  Devon: Anything?

  He doesn’t respond, which tells me he might have actually gotten some sleep. Good, he needs it as much as I do. I just hope Reagan and Abraham are in a restful sleep. I have this nagging feeling that they’re not.

  I roll over and stick my face back into Reagan’s pillow. It's enough to lull me back to sleep for a bit.

  I wake to my phone ringing in the early stages of dawn. “Hello?”

  “Dev, are you still at the hospital?” It's Aunt Kathy.

  “No, Damon stayed. Why, what’s up?”

  “Abraham’s parents somehow caught wind of all this and are trying to get access to him enough to move him to a different hospital.”

  “What!” I’m out of bed and grabbing my shoes from the floor while heading to the door. “Tell Peter to meet me there. You’re still with him right?”

  “Yes.” Yeah, that’s not weird or anything.

  “Okay, tell him I’ll be there in ten.”

  “Okay kiddo, be careful.”

  »»•««

  Damon

  “No, you won’t fucking move him. He’s a goddamn adult and you have no power over him!”

  Abraham’s parents showed up at six o’clock ranting about moving him to the hospital across town. That bitch named Sasha is claiming to be his fiancé and trying to be granted the power to move him.

  “Young man, that’s my son. You’ll not tell me what I can and cannot do with him. You’ll also mind your tongue around me.”

  “Or you’ll what? You’ve never cared two licks about that man. You only want him to join your family with hers. And don’t you dare act like he’s asked you to marry him. My sister lives with him. I’d say that gives her more power to keep him with her than you have to take him.”

  “How dare you.” His mother rears back and tries to slap me, but I catch her hand and throw it down. “Well, I never.”

  “Give it a rest, Victoria. You’ve no power to move the boy. You got too much working against you.” Uncle Peter shows up and stands next to me, blocking Victoria and Jonathan’s path to Abraham and Reagan’s room.

  “Peter. I was unaware that you knew of all this. If you’ll just excuse us. This is an immediate family matter.”

  “Oh shove it, John. Why do the two of you want him moved so damn bad? What’s in it for you?”

  “I want him closer to me.”

  “And you are?”

  “Sasha Lafayette. I’m his bride-to-be.” She sticks her left hand out and shoves a huge rock in our faces.

  “My fucking ass you are. I’ve not met your prissy self once. I’ve heard a ton about you from Elijah, and I can assure you that not even a little bit of it was good. Take a hike.”

  Devon comes running out of the elevators. “You’re not moving him. There are more of us than there are of you. It's not happening. You’ve got no legal hold over him. Back. The hell. Off.”

  “Devon Winters. I can't say it's good to see you.” Victoria is looking at him the way she did me at their dinner party.

  “Leave.” Devon sneers at them.

  Nurse Maggie comes over to us in the hallway we’re currently blocking. “What in the Sam Hill is going on here?”

  “Nurse Maggie, please have these people escorted from the premises.”

  “Who are they?”

  “A bunch of gold-digging liars. They’re claiming to be Abraham’s family. Peter is his father. These people are not his family.” He may not be his biological father but Peter practically raised Abraham and his sister Sam.

  »»•««

  Abraham

  There’s yelling. “Angel, who is that? They’re loud.”

  “It’s evil people mixed with your do-gooders. They’re fighting over you.”

  “Over me? Why?”

  “They want to move you.”

  “Move me where?”

  “Away from me.”

  “No! I don’t want to leave you. I’ll die.”

  “You won’t, but I might. Remember yet?”

  “Remember?”

  “Yes. Remember the promise you made me?”

  “Promise?” The word sparks shards of painful images to burn my brain. “Ow! Fuck! Angel, I don’t want to hurt anymore. How do I make it stop?”

  “Remember. Remember, Abraham. What’s my name?”

  “Angel. No… Sweet girl?”

  “Think harder. Can you see it? Look at the mess. Who am I? Who is it holding you? Can you see it? Remember, Abraham. Remember before it's too late.”

  “It's hard. It's all jumbled… It's you. You’re covered in blood. Sweet girl, what happened? Is that me? Why aren’t I moving? Angel?”

  “I can't help you unless you remember my name. Say it Abraham. Thirty-One, I love you. Help bring me home.”

  “Thirty-One? Sweet girl? Sweet girl… Sweet girl… Singing, you’re singing in the Jeep.”

  “Yes.”

  “You stopped. Why?” Blackness. Promises, promises. “Reagan! My Reagan!”

  “Yes. Wake up Abraham. I need you. If they take you, I won’t make it. I’ll die Abraham. Help me to find my way out of the black. He’ll find me. I’m hurt and I’m scared. You promised! Abraham! Don’t leave me! I can't do this without you!”

  “Reagan! No!”

  The darkness fades with the angel. My eyes open and I’m sitting up in a hospital bed screaming. “Reagan! Reagan?”

  “Abraham?” Devon and Damon come rushing into the hospital room I’m in. “He’s awake! Nurse Maggie! Maggie, come quick! Keep those assholes out.”

  Chapter Three

  Reagan

  “I’m there now, sweet girl. I can almost tell you.”

  “Tell me what? Abraham, if you’re going to be able to tell me soon, why can't you speed it up? Where is ‘there?’ ”

  His hand cups my face. “Do you hear it? Listen, baby. Listen for it. You’d know it anywhere. I’m here. It's okay. It’ll be okay. I love you, Reagan Nichole.”

  “Abraham, wait!” He’s already faded. My head hurts. My chest is on fire and I just can't handle all of this. “Somebody help me!”

  Nothing. Just darkness.

  »»•««

  Abraham

  “What the fuck is going on? Where the hell is Reagan?” I hurt all over. Every time I move pain radiates in a different part of me
.

  A heavyset black woman in scrubs is all over me. When I lean away from her, Devon steps in my line of sight. “Abraham, calm down. It's been three days since the accident. You’ve been unconscious since the truck hit. What can you remember?”

  “Remember? Accident?” I’m so fucking confused. My thoughts are jumbled and all over the place. Glass. “Glass, I remember glass covered in…ketchup? Ketchup from the fries that are laying amongst the glass.”

  “Abraham? What else?”

  My brow furrows. It’s so hard to piece it all together. There’s so damn much. It's quiet, just the radio and the angel. The angel’s voice. It's soothing. She’s quiet. Her face, she’s so scared. It's loud. There’s ringing. “It's blood. It's not ketchup, it’s blood.”

  “Whose? Think, Abraham.”

  “The angel’s, I think. She’s crying.”

  “What? Mags, is the doc on his way?”

  “He should be coming out of the elevator any moment. It's better for them if they remember themselves instead of being told what happened. It's less of a shock that way. We don’t want him going into shock. Should we—”

  “No! Not yet. Abraham, why is the angel crying? What’s going on around you?”

  This is so fucking frustrating. “She’s crying for me. She’s covered in blood.” My hands go to delve in my hair but the second my left hand touches my head, pain shoots though it. “What the hell?” It's in a cast.

  “Sweet girl, don’t cry.”

  “Then stay, stay with me, Thirty-One. I love you. You promised! Abraham!”

  The images from my coma break through my memory.

  “Reagan! Oh, the angel. It's Reagan. Where’s Reagan? Oh God.” I start trying to get out of bed. Oh God. She can't be dead. She said she needed my help, that I needed to save her. She said that I needed to bring her home.

  A man in a white coat comes rushing in, pushing past my parents and Sasha, who are standing in the doorway. My mother is actually crying. Really crying. The man in the white coat pushes my shoulders back down onto the bed. “No! Tell me where she is! Reagan!”

  “Mr. Stone! Maggie, morphine and a small sedative please.”

  The nurse leaves, returning seconds later and injecting liquid into the tube coming out of my hand. The pain leaves in a wave of warmth.