Wake Page 0,39
know what to say. “I’m so sorry.”
Carrie nods, and then whispers in a broken voice, “I should have watched him better.”
“Oh, honey,” Janie whispers. She holds Carrie close for a moment, until Carrie gently pulls away.
“It’s okay.” Carrie sniffles.
Janie, feeling completely helpless, fetches a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom. “I don’t have any tissues…Carrie? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Carrie wrings her hands. Blows her nose. Sniffles. “I don’t know, Janers. I thought it would go away. I was so tired…so tired of being sad. I couldn’t stand any more silent, pitying looks.”
“Does Stu know?”
Carrie shakes her head. “I should probably tell him.”
They are quiet for a long time.
“I guess maybe,” Janie murmurs after a while, “the bad stuff never goes away. And it’s nobody’s fault.”
Carrie sucks in a shivery breath and lets it out slowly. “Ah, well. We’ll see, huh?” She smiles through the tears. “Thanks, Janers. You’re a really good friend.” She pauses, and adds in a soft voice, “Just keep being normal now, okay? One sad look and I’m outa here, I swear to God.”
Janie grins. “You got it. Kiddo.”
December 11, 2005, 2:41 a.m.
When Carrie dreams, this time Janie knows what to do.
The forest, the river, the boy, drowning. Grinning.
Carrie, looking at Janie. Only a few minutes before the shark comes.
Carrie, crying out, “Help him! Save him!”
Janie concentrates, staring Carrie in the eyes. “Ask me, Carrie. Ask me.”
He’s bobbing and sinking, that eerie grin on his face.
“Help him!” she cries again to Janie.
Carrie! thinks Janie with all her might. I can’t help him. Ask me. Ask me to help…you.
In the morning, Carrie remarks at breakfast, “I had the weirdest dream. It was one of these nightmares that I keep getting about Carson, but this time, it all changed and turned into this strange little…something. It was surreal.”
“Yeah?” munched Janie. “Cool. Must be the feng shui over here or something.”
“You think?”
“I dunno. Try rearranging your room, and then at night, tell yourself that you’re going to change the nightmares from now on to work with your new harmonious surroundings.”
Carrie gives her a suspicious look. “Are you yanking my chain?”
“Of course not.”
December 12, 2005, 5:16 p.m.
Janie drives home slowly after a long afternoon at Heather Home. With the holidays on the way, the aides try to fit in some decorating in the schedule, along with their regular duties. And Janie managed to help three residents find some peace in their dreams. It was a decent day.
On a whim, she drives past Cabel’s house, and is surprised to see his car in the driveway. She slows and pulls into the drive, leaving Ethel running.
She sprints to the front door and knocks briskly.
The door opens, and Cabel gives her a look. “Hey, Janie, what’s up?” He’s making signals with his eyes when Shay comes up from behind him and peers over his shoulder. She wraps her arms around his waist possessively.
“Hey, Janie,” says Shay, a look of triumph in her eyes.
Janie grins, thinking fast. “Oh, hi, Shay. Sorry to disturb. Cabel, I’m wondering if you have those math notes you said I could borrow for tomorrow’s exam?”
Cabel’s eyes flash a message of gratitude. “Yeah,” he says. “Be right back. You want to come in?”
“Nah. My shoes are wet from the snow.”
Cabel reappears and hands her a bunch of papers, rolled up and secured in a rubber band. “We’re heading out to a party now,” he says, “But I kind of need these back tonight, since the exam’s in the morning. How late can I stop by to get them?”
Shay bobs over his shoulder, intent on seeing and being seen. Janie notices Cabel has slowly straightened his posture and is standing at full height, and Shay has to jump to see past him. Janie masks a laugh. “I’ll be up late, but I can put them in the mailbox for you before I go to bed. Thanks, Cabel. Have fun at the party, you guys! I’m sooo jealous.”
Janie trots back to Ethel and heads for home, only a little melancholy over the scene she has just witnessed. She brings the notes in, changes her clothes, and gets out her books.
She pages through the papers Cabel gave her, hoping he didn’t give her anything important, since she didn’t actually need his stuff. In the middle of the pile, a scribbled note:
I miss you like crazy.
Love, Cabe.
She smiles, missing him. Wanting this mess to be over. She thinks about how he was willing to quit the job, wreck the months of progress