Chapter 22

Driving up to Brush after school, I took stock of my situation. Everyone treated me like a hero for making the gutsy call and keeping the school open. Indeed, I felt a little heroic myself. On the other hand, they didn’t have to fear Everett’s wrath, and I did. I made it very clear that the call was mine alone, and I took sole personal responsibility, so he would have no trouble focusing his anger on me. And frankly, after my defiance on the school books, I’m sure that no other target would suit him quite so well. I was pretty sure that Everett would try to get rid of me, and the only question in my mind was whether it would be a private assassination or a public hanging.

I figured he’d love a chance to conduct an open hearing and make a spectacle of me in front of an audience. But I wasn’t sure he could feel that confident as to the merits of his case. Even though he didn’t know about my transcript of the conference, Everett must know that Marcus would repudiate the textbook deal, as soon as he regained consciousness. I had to believe that Everett was really counting on Marcus not recovering.

Even with the air-conditioning contract, where he had me dead to rights in a clear violation of policy, he would have to take care. If his argument were that maintaining the contract was crucially important, no matter what the cost to taxpayers, it wouldn’t sit well with the fiscally conservative voters of Otis. The fact was that the contract lacked any sort of performance requirement or opt-out for the county, if the vendor could not perform acceptably. As the contract was written, Orion could just say “sorry, we can’t fix it,” and the school district would lack the legal right to get the unit repaired from any other source. This certainly made Everett’s contracting skills and judgment look questionable at best. My decision to spend $200 to avoid many thousands of dollars for make up days would surely be pretty popular with everyone but Everett.

No, he would have to try for some kind of private school board meeting, where I wasn’t allowed to defend myself. If Everett moved to take action against me, I would demand a public hearing if I could.

When I got to the hospital, Brenda was able to head home early, since I would bring Martha later. Dr. Harley had finally convinced Martha that the chance of Marcus regaining consciousness during the night when there were no stimuli was slight. She was reluctantly persuaded to get some sleep each night, though she confessed to me that sleeping without feeling his presence beside her was difficult.

Things had changed since I last saw Marcus. He was still unconscious, but he no longer lay there motionless; he made little restless motions. I looked at Martha and saw the renewed hope in her face.

“Is he still unconscious?” I asked puzzled. “He seems more like he’s just sleeping.”

“No, he’s still out, but he’s definitely more active. I think I’ve seen his eyes open twice, but only for a split second. Doc says that’s normal, because at first, opening the eyes is very uncomfortable, even painful.”

“Oh, but that’s wonderful Martha; he must he coming out of it,” I said, giving her a hug.

“That’s not the best part; watch this!”

Marcus was stirring restlessly, like someone having a bad dream. Martha took his arm and began a slow gentle stroking with her hand, up and down his forearm. Almost immediately, he became quiet and peaceful.

“Martha,” I practically squealed, “he responded to your touch, but that must mean...”

“That means his coma is very shallow now,” a familiar voice said, “and it won’t last much longer. He knows Martha’s touch; he’s just not quite ready to open communications with our world.”

I turned to gaze into the friendly eyes of Dr. Harley, who had quietly joined us. He seemed as thrilled as Martha.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “I thought you were either in a coma or not. I didn’t know there were levels.”

“Most people think, as you do, that it’s either you are or you aren’t, but almost nothing in medicine is that simple, especially dealing with the brain. Did you both see the movie The Princess Bride?” We nodded. “Do you remember that hilarious scene with Billy Crystal as Miracle Max?”

“You mean the ‘he’s only mostly dead scene’?” I asked. “I laughed so hard I almost cried.”

“Exactly,” said Dr. Harley, “Marcus is only mostly in a coma now. Let me explain it this way; it’s not scientific, but it may help. Think of the brain as a computer. The brain and the computer both have different levels of consciousness. You may say that a brain after a trauma sort of reboots. Now, do you know what the computer’s BIOS is?”