Chapter 6

"Is he going to be ok?" Emma asked Dr. Jackson.

Emma and Sara had manhandled Flint down the hall and into his bed. It had been a difficult task because of the differences in their sizes. Flint was a big man and the two women, though strong, were petite.

"Yes, I think so. Though without tests, I can't be sure. However, I really think that the stress finally caught up with him."

"Yes, I know. He held me together when we buried my husband, and a couple of other times when it looked bad for Katie, but I never saw him take time for himself."

"That's not good!" said the doctor with concern. "I didn't know that or I would have prescribed counseling. People can't just hold things in and expect that all will go back to normal. Nothing stays buried forever, nature always finds a way to relieve the pressure."

"I can hear you," said the big man. "I'm in the same room, you know!"

"Well, welcome back, you big brute," said a relieved Emma.

"Flint, can you tell us what happened?" asked the doctor.

I don't really know. I remember falling asleep holding Amelia's hand ... Oh! The dreams! I had horrible dreams!"

"Dreams?" asked a concerned Dr. Jackson. "Flint, can you describe them for me?"

"Ah ... Ok ... I was in the bush and I could hear Amelia calling to me, but I couldn't find her! As time went on we both became more frantic. She was screaming in panic, calling and calling for my help. I was running 'willy-nilly' through the bush, unable to find her. On and on I ran until I fell, exhausted, to the ground," Flint ended with a sob.

Soon the big man was unabashedly weeping.

"You have been holding your feelings in for a long time, Big Guy. They have finally come to the surface and I think..."

At that moment, a tormented scream arose from Kate's room, "Nooooooo!"

Flint tried to respond but he was not yet strong enough to resist Sara's efforts to keep him in bed, "Oh, no, you don't! You're not going anywhere!"

Though small, the woman was strong. With a hand on each of his shoulders she pushed the big, but weakened man, back onto his pillows.

At the same time, Emma and the doctor rushed out of the room and down the stairs at full speed.

They found Kate sitting up in her bed. She was trembling, covered in sweat, and had tears streaming down her cheeks; but there was a strange far off look in her eyes. The girl seemed to be in a trance, albeit a strangely emotional one.

Absolutely distraught, the girl kept muttering through her tears, over and over, "I can't find her ... I need to help her ... Where is she?"

The words came out of Katie as a continuous soft wail.

Emma rushed into the room, and was about to hug her daughter when she felt a strong restraining hand pulling her back. She started to struggle as Dr. Jackson held her fast.

"Stop, Emma! She isn't awake! You could do her damage if you wake her! Emma! Please! Listen to me."

"WHAT?"

"Please don't touch her, you might do damage to her psyche if you wake her from this state."

"No! NO! She needs meeeeeee!" yelled Emma as she struggled harder to get to Katie.

Seeing that Emma was near to hysteria the doctor slapped Emma several times across the face.

Emma slumped to the floor wailing, "She needs meeeeee! Why won't you let me help her?"

"Stop this right now!" said the doctor sternly. "We just might be able to help both girls, if you will just settle down and let me do what is necessary. Will you do that?"

Emma nodded, still weeping. But as soon as Dr. Jackson released his grip she tried to get to Kate. The only reason she didn't succeed was because she was still on the floor. That fact, and that fact alone allowed the doctor to restrain her again--and this time he pulled her from the room.

"Sara! Sara! I need you!"

"Mark what's the matter?" called Sara as she 'flew' down the steps.

"Emma is hysterical! Get my bag! Quickly, quickly!"

Sara retraced her steps to Flint's room grabbed the doctor's black bag and then rushed back to the struggling pair at the bottom of the stairs.

Though Emma fought valiantly, she lost the battle. Dr. Mark gave her an injection that soon knocked her out.

"There, that ought to keep her quiet for the rest of the night," said Dr. Mark as he and Sara placed the now unconscious woman on the couch, and covered her with a crocheted throw.

Though it seemed a lot longer, all of this had only taken a few short minutes. During the whole time, Kate could still be heard calling for her friend.

When the two turned from the recumbent woman both were shocked to see Flint at the bottom of the stairs--the big man had a death grip on the banister. He was weaving from side to side in his struggle to remain standing.

"What's the matter with Emma?" he asked weakly. "Please tell me what the hell is going on, here?"

Anger flared in Sara, as she and the doctor ran to help Flint.

"Do you have a death wish, or are you as just stupid?" snarled the petite woman as she and Mark helped Flint to a chair.

"If you two will just give us a chance to find out, we might be able to tell you 'what the hell is going on here'," Dr. Mark said.

With some irritation, he pulled another syringe from his bag and loaded it.

"If that stupid bastard moves, jab him with this."

"Yes, Doctor," said Sara as she glared at Flint, needle at the ready.

"Ok! Ok. I know when I'm beat. I'll just lie here on the floor, and sleep for a bit," said Flint as he slid from the chair to the floor and passed out.

"Ah, shit! I'm never going to get back to the girl if these idiots don't stop interrupting."

While Mark was ranting Sara bent down to take Flint's vitals.

"He's fine, Mark. Just go to Katie, I'll watch these blockheads."

Sara grabbed a lap-rug and pillow from a nearby chair and made Flint comfortable.

She muttered, "You're just like my big brother. He thought that he was immortal, too. Now, he's dead!"

Sara checked her other patient, sat down next to Emma and then wept softly, letting the tears flow.

A short time later, Mark found her, still weeping.

"What's the matter, Sara?"

"Oh, I'm just remembering my big brother. He was a lot like Flint ... until he died, that is."

"I didn't know you had a brother."

"I don't! He's dead!" she said bitterly.

She stood up abruptly, and walked to the window. She stood rigidly, rubbing her upper arms briskly, as if she had a chill. With folded arms, she looked out the window with unseeing eyes, her back toward Dr. Jackson.

Sara was a perfect study in misery.

Mark walked over to the woman and wrapped his arms around her. The difference in their stature allowed him to rest his chin on her head, thus increasing their physical contact.

Sara remained stiff for a few minutes but as time went by and Mark did not ask anything by way of explanation, she began to relax and lean into him.

Finally, she took a deep breath. Not wanting to break the contact, she turned around within his embrace to face him.

"How come you didn't ask what happened? Everyone else does." she asked into his chest bleakly.

"I figured that you'd tell me when you were ready."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said as he kissed the top of her head.

The two remained standing by the window, a silent tableau of tenderness.

"I feel safe here in your embrace," said Sara as she melted into Mark's chest.

"I love to hold you, my sweet."

"That's the first time you've called me that."

"I know, but it's true."