Between the Land and the Sea - By Derrolyn Anderson Page 0,79
you going to make for Evie?” I asked, switching to a more pleasant subject.
“Hopefully one she loves.”
We spent the rest of the drive home discussing fabric choices, color schemes and styles that might look best on Evie. When we pulled onto our street there was a figure sitting on our porch. I thought it was Abby at first, but as we drew near I recognized Shayla. She came forward to meet the car as we pulled in.
“Here comes trouble,” said Cruz under his breath. I knew instantly there was something wrong, and I jumped out of the car, my heart pounding in my throat.
“What is it?” I cried.
“It’s Ethan,” said Shayla, “He like, had a accident. He’s in the hospital.” The blood ran out of my face and I steadied myself, clutching the car door. A voice in my head was screaming “I knew it! I knew it!”
“What happened?” I gasped, the wind knocked out of me.
“A bunch of us were surfing up the coast when some local dudes showed up. They kept dropping in on people. One of them wiped out on Ethan and nailed him in the head. He was bleeding real bad. He was asking for you.”
My hands were shaking as I reached to Cruz, “Give me the keys,” I said, my voice flat.
“I’d better drive you,” Cruz said, glancing over at me. He turned to Shayla, “Thanks for telling us, can we give you a ride anywhere?”
Shayla looked surprised that Cruz even spoke to her, “Uh, no... Thanks. I can walk home from here.”
We got in the car and rushed over to the hospital. I was sick to my stomach, because I knew it; I had a feeling something was going to happen to him. I remembered the cold fear that had washed over me in San Francisco. I knew with an awful certitude that he had been hurt at that precise moment. The pain in my head returned. Cruz got us to the hospital and found out what floor he was on. We raced over to the nurses’ station and a man approached us.
“Cruz?” He said, looking a little taken aback at his appearance. He turned towards me, “You must be Marina.”
“Marina, this is Ethan’s dad,” said Cruz.
“Call me Dutch,” he said, shaking my hand. He was tall like Ethan, with graying sand colored hair. He had the weather-beaten face of an outdoorsman, and kind eyes that were deep blue like Ethan’s. I had another sharp twinge of pain in my head and saw a crystal clear picture of Abby and Dutch standing hand in hand in our doorway. I felt like I was losing my mind.
“How is he?” I asked, fear and pain in my eyes. Dutch looked a little alarmed at my intensity, and he filled us in as he led us down the hall.
“He’s going to be alright,” he said, trying to soothe me with his voice, “He needed a lot of sewing up but they tell me it looks worse than it is. They’re keeping him overnight to make sure.” He turned to me at the door, “He’s resting now, but he’s been asking for you.” Ethan was lying with his eyes closed and a huge swath of gauze bandage wrapped around his head. I rushed to his side and studied him acutely. I took his hand in mine and was relieved to find that it was warm. He was breathing regularly but he didn’t stir. I looked up to meet his dad’s eyes.
“Can I wait here?” I asked, “Until he wakes up...”
“I think he’d like that,” said Dutch, looking at me perceptively, “Are you sure you’re gonna be alright? You look like you could use some rest yourself.”
“I’m OK,” I said, nodding reassuringly at him. The pain in my head was beginning to recede. I turned to Cruz, who was standing awkwardly at the door, “You can go home, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you to come get me later.”
Cruz gave me a quick hug, said he’d be waiting for news, and left.
Ethan’s dad stretched and yawned, “I’m going to get something to eat, can I get you anything?”
“No thanks,” I pulled a stool up alongside the bed.
He turned to go, “Thanks for coming,” he said, “I didn’t want to leave him alone ’till they’re sure he can go home.” I could see he was tired and worried too.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said firmly.
As I watched Ethan’s sleeping face, I couldn’t help thinking about the mermaids. Could they have