Chapter 33: A Friend In Need

April 17, 1983 (continued)

My suddenly overloaded mind, which was numb to everything else right now, transported me back to the other timeline, to the day before I was sent back to 1980. I recalled sitting in a booth at a TGI Friday's in the year 2007, in the company of a forty-four-year-old version of Evie, and listening to her explanation of why Inez had been such a repugnant person in the other life. I could still remember what she'd told me, word for word.

"When she was twenty years old," Evie had related, "she lost both of her parents at the same time. They were killed in an auto accident, coming back from a weekend getaway in the Florida Keys. She loved them both dearly, and quite understandably, she was never the same after that."

Despite all the changes surrounding Inez in this timeline ... the fateful accident had happened again.

Julia covered her mouth in anguish as Evie told us what she knew, which at this point, wasn't a whole lot. Inez's parents had, in fact, been returning from Key West, with her dad behind the wheel. They'd been traveling on a freeway about twenty minutes from home. Another driver in an adjacent lane, who was driving at an excessive speed, had lost control of his car. Inez's dad had swerved suddenly to avoid the other car, which resulted in them slamming into a concrete barrier at freeway speed. Both of Inez's parents had been airlifted to a nearby hospital, where they both had been reported to be in critical condition.

"That's all I know at this point," said Evie hoarsely. "I feel so damn helpless! I can't do anything for her."

"Where are Señor and Señora Andrade? And Mayra?" I said to her, trying to sound as comforting as possible. In my current mental state, it wasn't easy. That same internal voice kept berating me: You could have warned her! You could have warned her!

"Señor and Señora Andrade broke the news to Inez. They all went to Florida on the same flight. Lisette went with them, too. Mayra was doing something up in New York, and couldn't get back here in time. She'll be flying down first thing in the morning. My God, Pat. Inez was hysterical. You know how close she is to her mom and dad. If anything happens to them ... I can't imagine what it will do to her."

I know damn fucking well what it will do to her, I thought. And I could have prevented it!

It would have been very easy for me to become paralyzed by guilt. But that wouldn't do me, or Evie, or Inez any good. Action was what was required. And thus, I chose to act. An idea shot through my brain that, had I taken the time to really think it through, I might have dismissed as foolhardy. But I recalled Julia telling me a few months previously that I tended to talk myself out of opportunities, and just this once, I opted not to do so. I voiced my plan out loud.

"We need to be on the same flight as Mayra."

"We?" said Julia incredulously. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Believe me, Pat," said Evie, "I'd love to fly down to Florida to be with Inez, but I can't afford it!"

"I can," I replied. "I'll pay the way for both of you."

They gawked at me.

"Remember that money I won from betting on the college basketball championship?" I said to Julia. "I put most of it aside as a rainy day fund. And this certainly qualifies as a rainy day."

"Pat, that's generous of you," Evie said softly, "Very generous. I'm touched. But I can't let you do that."

"I'd love to go," Julia interrupted, "but I can't. I have two exams on Tuesday. I can't afford to miss them." This was true; she was planning to hit the books the minute we got back to the dorm.

I spent the next several minutes trying to convince both of them to accept my offer. Evie, who after all counted Inez as a very dear friend, started to come around. But Julia, surprisingly, steadfastly refused to consider it. She always did have a stubborn streak within her.

"I can't take the time to do that," she told us. "You both are her bandmates. You need to be there for her. Go ahead and make the trip. Just update me frequently, okay?"

"Julia, come with us," Evie pleaded. "I'd really like for you to be there. You can make up the exams later." It was a relief to hear her say that; it made this whole situation somewhat less awkward. To be having this kind of a discussion under these conditions was simply bizarre, and I just didn't have the patience for it.

But Julia still wouldn't bite. Eventually, we came to an agreement; Julia would stay behind. I wasn't happy with this, not at all, but I couldn't force Julia to do something she didn't want to do. At that point, Julia and I decided to head back to our dorm, presumably so that I could make travel arrangements. Actually, I could have done that right there in Evie's room, but I wanted to talk privately with Julia first.

"Are you really sure you're okay with me flying down to Florida with Evie?" I asked Julia point-blank as soon as we got into my car.

"Mayra will be there, too, won't she? Anyway, honey, I trust you. You earned that trust when you turned down that groupie."

Admittedly, that was nice to hear. But I still wasn't on board with her decision.

We drove on in reflective silence. My mind returned to our major concern: Inez, and her parents. I had a private conversation with the man upstairs, asking him if perhaps somehow, some way, the outcome of this horrible event might prove different in this timeline.

April 18, 1983

Miami, Florida

Three travelers, weary and worried, passed through the glass doors which separated the baggage claim area from the warm, muggy South Florida mid-morning air. We were far too preoccupied to savor the near-tropical humidity, the palm trees, or the dark clouds off to one side which hinted at an imminent shower.

At this point, Mayra planned to go in one direction, while Evie and I would go in another. Mayra intended to head straight for the home of Inez's mom and dad. Mayra's own parents would meet her there. Since Evie and I were unannounced visitors, we didn't want to impose. I'd located a hotel in close proximity to the hospital, and had made reservations for us. Two rooms, of course. It was there that we were headed, to check in to our rooms.

This being 1983, I had no access to hotel web sites, to check for location or room availability. I also had to make do without MapQuest and other information sources of that ilk. I never had set foot in this part of Florida, in either life. I secured our hotel reservations while still in the Miami airport. I asked a clerk at an information desk for a recommendation. She handed me a brochure, which I used to contact the hotel using a pay phone.

It's incredible how helpful modern technology is when dealing with an emergency, and how much I missed it right now. I'd confronted the same issue the previous evening when I booked our travel reservations. Again, there was no Orbitz or Travelocity or Expedia to simplify everything for me. I had to call the airline directly. Paying for the tickets was another obstacle to overcome. Of course, no banks were open on a Sunday evening, and ATM's were just beginning to come into vogue. I had the money I needed, but for all intents and purposes, I didn't. What saved my bacon was a Visa card I'd applied for not too long ago, with a fifteen hundred dollar credit limit. Such things were routinely given to college students at the time. I decided to put all our expenses on the card, and pay it off as soon as I got back. Since this was a last-minute thing, the plane tickets weren't cheap. Had Julia come with us, things might have gotten tight for me. But with just the two of us, I believed I'd have more than enough funds available to cover our expenses.

Evie and I would have to miss two days of classes. I had us flying down early Monday morning, and returning Tuesday evening. We had to get up at 4a.m. to catch our departing flight. I picked up Evie at her dorm, and then swung by Mayra's house. She had just spoken with her mother, and had some news about Inez's parents. Mr. Trujillo was doing slightly better than his wife. He'd suffered a broken arm and a broken collarbone, a back injury of some kind, and an as-yet undiagnosed head injury. He also had limited feeling on the left side of his body, which was certainly a major concern. Mrs. Trujillo was in a coma. Her major issue was internal bleeding, which they had yet to get under control. Her blood pressure had already dropped dangerously low on a couple of occasions.

I supposed that, given what I'd been expecting to hear, this news could be construed as encouraging. But how could I say for sure? I didn't know any more details from the other timeline. It was certainly not out of the question that they both had succumbed to complications a few days after the accident.

I had one more question for Mayra.

"Do you think Evie and I are imposing on your family by making this trip? Neither one of us has ever met Inez's parents."

She proceeded to put those concerns to rest. "No. You're doing a wonderful thing. I know Inez will appreciate it. So will her mom and dad."

At least I felt better on that front. I wondered if Julia had considered that point as well; perhaps that was why she'd insisted on not going with us. I'd have to talk with her about it later.

Silence reigned during the drive to the airport. Hardly any words were exchanged. From time to time, I heard Mayra speaking softly to herself in Spanish. I figured she was praying.

I'd been unable to have us all seated together during the flight, so the three of us were scattered about the airplane. The flight was two and a half hours; I tried to sleep, but it just wasn't happening. All I could do was sit there in solitary contemplation, wondering what we'd find when we got to the hospital. I continued to chastise myself for not thinking to find a way to tip off Inez that something terrible was destined to happen to her parents.

Thankfully, our flight arrived on time. None of us had checked any bags; we'd thrown our things into carry-ons, which eliminated one hassle upon disembarking. I hailed a taxi as soon as we stepped outside. Mayra, rather than asking her parents to come and pick her up, decided to take a taxi as well. For Evie and me, it was a quick cab ride to our hotel, where we got checked in to our rooms. Right away, I called Julia to let her know we'd arrived. Then, I called another cab – I could already see that cab fares would be eating up a lot of my money – to make the two-mile trip to the hospital.

It was Evie who spoke to the receptionist at the hospital information desk.

"Can you give us any information about Javier and Lupe Trujillo?" she inquired breathlessly.

The receptionist looked through the patient register.

"They're both in intensive care," came her reply. "Do you need directions to go up there?"

I breathed ever so slightly easier. That meant that both of them were still hanging in there. I looked over at Evie; I had doubts on how to proceed next.

"We'd better wait down here," I finally suggested. "Anyway, Mayra and her parents will be here soon."

We thanked the receptionist, and then moved over into the lobby area. It wasn't long until the Andrades arrived. Mayra had already told her parents that Evie and I had made the trip. We exchanged embraces; they thanked us profusely for coming.

"What's the latest news on Inez's parents?" I asked Señor Andrade anxiously.

"We don't know any more than we knew a few hours ago," he replied. "We'll find out when we get upstairs." Essentially, they had no more information than we did. Once again, I bemoaned the lack of twenty-first century technology. With the cell phones that would be available in twenty-five years, information sharing in a situation like this would be complete and instantaneous.

Evie and I stayed downstairs, while the Andrade family headed up to intensive care. We both believed that our place was down here in the lobby, at least until we'd spoken with Inez. We sat there for what seemed to be an eternity, only exchanging a few casual words. She and I were long overdue for a deep one-on-one conversation, but this was neither the time nor the place.

At long last, the elevator door opened and out stepped Inez. The Andrades had obviously told her about our presence downstairs, because her searching eyes found Evie and me right away. She threw her arms around each of us, in turn, deeply moved by our unexpected appearance.

"You guys," she told us, her voice wavering. "What did I ever do to deserve friends like you?"

It was quite apparent that she was in the midst of a terrible ordeal. Her eyes were red and sleep-starved. Her spoken words were barely more than a whisper. It was apparent that she'd slept very little, if at all, since she'd left New Jersey almost twenty-four hours ago. I couldn't comprehend what she must have been through. What she was still going through, even now.

The three of us sat down on a sofa, with Inez in the middle. Evie took one of Inez's hands into hers. I found myself doing the same with her other hand.

Evie spoke up first. "Pat, I don't want to embarrass you," she said with a tight-lipped smile, "but I think Inez needs to know this. Inez ... this trip was Pat's idea, and he paid the way for both of us."

Inez regarded me with a look of such tender gratitude that I melted. Again, she threw her arms around me. And then, the tears came. She began to sob on my shoulder; it was all I could do to keep from breaking down myself. I got the idea she'd been holding this back, so I let her cry it out. Evie gently rubbed her back and spoke to her soothingly. Eventually, Inez got herself under control, and rose up away from me, still sniffling a little.

"I think you needed that," I said softly to Inez. She nodded in agreement.

"So tell us," I went on, "how are things upstairs?"

"There's pretty good news about my dad," she related. "It looked really bad at first, but the slight paralysis he experienced on the left side of his body is gone, thank goodness. It was just a temporary thing. He has all of the feeling back. Now, all he has to deal with is broken bones. They think he'll be all right. They might even move him out of ICU, and into a regular room soon. As for my mom..."

She hesitated for a moment, trying to keep her emotions under control.

"I'm really worried about her. She needs abdominal surgery to repair some internal damage. But they can't operate until they get her blood pressure under control. It's still fluctuating."

Well. This wasn't the best news in the world, certainly. And we were far from out of the woods. However, her dad was expected to be fine. Already, this was a different outcome from the other timeline. It stood to reason, then, that there was nothing predetermined about her mom's fate, either.

There was hope.

"Why don't you both come upstairs, and hang out in the waiting room?" Inez asked us. She'd gotten just a shade more chipper, and I knew why. We'd given her a release, and a distraction, which she sorely needed. I knew that we'd done the right thing by traveling all the way down here.

Once upstairs, we met up with Mayra, Lisette and their father. They only allowed one visitor at a time in the ICU, and it was Señora Andrade's turn. Inez, naturally, insisted on being the next one to go in.

Her devotion to her parents was truly touching. I was really beginning to get a sense of what the Inez in the other timeline must have gone through. I hoped like hell it wouldn't happen here. The degree of personal investment I had in this situation was astounding.

Finally, Señora Andrade came out, and Inez made a move to go in. I stopped her for just a second.

"Let us know what we can do for you, okay?" I told her. "We're here to help. We're at your command."

"Do you want us to bring you something to eat?" Evie offered.

"I'm not that hungry," replied Inez. "But you know what I could use? Coffee. Lots of it. I'm not planning on getting a lot of sleep."

As Inez went in to see her parents, we noticed that there was a coffee machine in one corner of the waiting room. Evie declared herself custodian of the coffee, and started to brew up a batch. Meanwhile, I headed down to the cafeteria. Yes, Inez had said she wasn't hungry. I was pretty sure, though, that she hadn't eaten much during this whole terrible experience, and I had a feeling she'd change her mind if food was placed in front of her. I returned with containers of fried chicken and French fries, enough for everyone. It was finger food, which would give Inez the option of pigging out if she was hungry, or picking her way through it if she wasn't.

About thirty minutes later, Inez emerged from the intensive care unit. Evie immediately presented her with a hot cup of coffee. I brought out the food, which thankfully was still warm. I had been right; Inez attacked the food as soon as she saw it.

"I thought you weren't hungry," I grinned.

"Mmmmph," Inez responded, stuffing French fries into her mouth in a most unladylike fashion. But she was surely entitled to that.

When she was finished eating, she had some news to share. The others gathered around to listen.

"My mom has stabilized somewhat, although the doctors are still concerned. She's also awake now, although she's still drifting in and out a little. They'll monitor her overnight, and if her blood pressure stays put, they'll go ahead and do the surgery early tomorrow. As for my dad, he's really doing much better. They'll put him in his own room in the morning."

"That's fantastic news," Evie said with a smile. I nodded in full agreement.

Inez sat with us for a while in the waiting room. She began to tell us stories about her parents, her childhood, and her teen years. I knew this was good for her. It allowed her to pass the time without thinking too much.

I asked her what her dad did for a living.

"He runs a shipping business here in Miami," she replied. "They ship personal goods to many destinations all across Latin America. Not so much Puerto Rico, since it's a U.S. territory, but mostly Central and South America."

Late afternoon passed into evening. I made an attempt to call Julia from a pay phone. It was Jeannette who answered the call.

"She went to dinner at the dining hall," Jeannette informed me. "She left just a few minutes ago."

I told Jeannette the latest developments; she assured me that she'd pass them on to Julia. I promised to call again later in the evening.

Evie and I, along with the Andrade family, hung out in the waiting room for the rest of the evening. Inez spent a good portion of the time with her parents. Several friends and relatives dropped by to check on the elder Trujillos. Evie kept the coffee coming for Inez. I made one more run down to the cafeteria just before it closed at nine o'clock. At ten or so, I tried to contact Julia again. This time, there was no answer. I thought that a little strange, but perhaps Julia was tired, and had turned in early.

At eleven o'clock, I told Inez that Evie and I were willing to stay the night in the waiting room if she needed us. I'd discussed it with Evie, and she agreed that we should at least make the offer. But Inez wouldn't hear of it.

"You've both been wonderful," she said to us, "and you deserve a break. Go get some sleep at the hotel."

"You deserve a break, too," I told her. "Please find a way to get some rest. Why not go back to your house with your aunt and uncle, at least for a few hours?"

Inez nixed this suggestion as well. "I'm camping out here in the waiting room. I've got a pillow and blanket, and I can crash on the sofa."

During the cab ride back to the hotel, Evie said to me with a subdued laugh, "You paid for those rooms, so we might as well use them for at least a couple of hours." We'd been at the hospital for almost twelve hours.

The conversation came around to Inez. "I knew she was close to her mom and dad," commented Evie, "but I've now seen firsthand just how much she loves them. It's really heart-warming."

"Yes, it is," I replied. Her remark served to remind me that although there was reason for optimism, this ordeal was far from over.

Back at the hotel, Evie went straight to her room, and I to mine.

April 19, 1983

At ten o'clock the next morning, after checking out of our rooms, we were back at the hospital. Inez, who had indeed bedded down in the waiting room, told us she'd gotten about five hours of sleep. I wasn't sure I was buying that. She looked even more exhausted than she had the previous day. However, she had some encouraging news.

"They brought my mom into surgery about an hour ago," she explained. "The doctor is somewhat optimistic that she'll pull through this, although she has a long, hard road ahead of her. Right now, I'm waiting for news about the surgery."