The Dragonfly Prophecy Page 4

  I had to go along with it all to have a chance of getting out of a hospital that wasn’t by way of a mental institution. I never put my parents or William out of my mind. I didn’t want to forget them, even if those memories did turn out to be hallucinations. They were all I had.

  Chapter 5

  Memories

  The days blurred into weeks as I recovered from the accident. Aunt Fay came every day and spent hours trying to help me remember every tiny detail of my life. It didn’t take long before I realized she was a very special person. Fay had no children of her own and only one sister who just happened to be my late mother. I sensed that we were very close throughout my life. I knew I meant the world to her and, at one time, I had felt the same. It devastated me that I couldn’t get back that bond we’d shared faster. I worked harder every day to restore our relationship.

  Fay flipped through the photo albums with me that brought back the memories of my childhood. It felt so good to see my parents. To know they looked exactly as I remembered them. I cried a lot. I missed them more than I could bear. The tremendous emptiness in my heart could never be filled, not even by Aunt Fay. I missed having it all figured out. My life had become a mangled web of truths and falsities through which I had no way of knowing how to sort.

  My hair started to grow back, to the point where it looked more like a 1970’s shag than a medical head shaving. Every day I got one step closer to getting out of there. Physical therapy got so easy, I could have thrown the therapist across the room with one arm. The mental therapy just frustrated me. I didn’t mind talking, but it seemed to me the shrink would have gotten a better response out of a rock. I wasn’t telling anyone what was really going on in my mind anyway. It was a complete waste of time, but I had to roll with it so they would get me off those horrible mind-altering drugs.

  The accident had happened well over a month ago. I was still in a coma when the funerals took place and I felt cheated that I didn’t get to go. My mother would have loved nothing more than for me to pray for her. I still prayed anyway, knowing her faith had her accepted into a good afterlife.

  My brain functioned better each day and the smallest things helped me remember all I had forgotten. The awful smell of Aunt Fay when she came to visit reminded me that she had horses. I used to love to ride. I remembered my horse, Smokey, was an elaborate birthday gift from her. She wrote self-help books for a living, and she was so good at it that she could have lived the life of a queen if she never wrote another one. Fay and my Uncle Jack, who went missing during his tour in Iraq a few years ago, lived in a huge house on a beautiful horse farm in Far Hills, New Jersey. I grew up in a little cottage down the road from there until we moved to the city when my grandma died. I always dreamed of living in that massive house. I never thought I would, especially not this way.

  Finally, two and a half months after the accident, they stopped all medication. The fog that clouded my mind had been lifted and I almost felt brand new. No medication meant no more hospital stay, and I was good enough to go home. Home? Where was that going to be? There’s no way anyone would let me live on my own. Aunt Fay crept into my room, afraid I might have been sleeping at that early hour.

  “Oh, you’re up already?” she said, her smile wide.

  “Yeah, I was kind of hoping I was going home today?” I said in more of a question than a statement.

  “As soon as Doctor Bowen comes in, we’ll find out. He said you’d probably be going home sometime this week because you’ve been doing so well.” She smiled and tried to arrange the wilting flowers in the vase.

  “Where am I going?” I knew the answer. I just had to hear it from her as sort of an invitation. Stupid, I know, but I needed to hear it.

  “You’ll be coming home with me, of course. It’ll be great. You can go back to your old school, graduate with your friends. It’ll be helpful for you to be around familiar faces. I know you’d probably like to go back to the city, but right now, it’s just not a good time. We’ll keep the place until you’re a little older and can decide what you’d like to do with it.” She caught herself and changed the conversation to something less depressing.

  “So, what’s new today, honey? How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “I’m good,” I said. “But I have a question for you.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Well, since I’ve been here, you’ve been my only visitor. I know I have friends, but how come no one else came to see me?”

  She let out a slight chuckle until she realized I was serious and in dire need of answers. “Honey, I made the decision with Doctor Bowen not to have anyone come to see you. We thought it best for your recovery not to have too many people around to inundate you. You’re right, though. You have plenty of great friends with whom you’ll reacquaint yourself in time. As far as family goes, it’s just me now. Your father, like you, was an only child and your mother only had one sister,” she said, pointing to herself proudly. “You remember that my parents died when you were small, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I lied. The only grandparent I remembered was my father’s mother, the one with the schizophrenia. I didn’t remember my maternal grandparents or losing them, but since they were gone for so long, why try to remember that part? I had so much more to catch up on and that seemed so insignificant.

  Our conversation was cut short by Doctor Bowen giving orders to a nurse as he entered my room. “How are we feeling today, young lady?” he asked, and extended his hand for the routine greeting. I responded with a weak handshake, but the formality of it all was odd to me. The other freak barely acknowledged my presence while he examined me.

  “Great!” I said. “Can I get out of here today? I’d like to go back to a normal life and this place isn’t so normal. No offense.”

  Aunt Fay giggled. “I can’t argue with that. It sounds like the old Lexi is back. What do you think, Doctor?”

  “I’d like to see how you respond without any medication for a day or so first. Why don’t we wait until we are one hundred percent sure you have no issues without the medicines?”

  “Oh, please,” I begged. “Aunt Fay can watch me and if anything goes wrong, she can call you or bring me right back. I’ve been here so long already and it’s making me crazy! I can’t sleep with the nurses bothering me, and that lady next door yells in her sleep and keeps me up all night. Please, just let me go home. It’s not like they’re doing anything here that Aunt Fay can’t do.” I looked at Aunt Fay with my eyes wide, hoping she would join in my pleading fest. She pursed her lips and then gave me a smile, letting me know she got the message.

  “I agree with her. I promise I’ll bring her back at the first unlikely sign of anything out of place. Let’s give her a break. It’s probably all she needs now.” Aunt Fay looked at me with that very loving look in her eyes, just like my mother used to do.

  We both turned to the doctor, waiting for the answer. “Okay, ladies,” he said, I thought a bit apprehensively. “You’re both very convincing and I’m sure everything will be fine. I just thought the extra precaution would be—”

  I interrupted with a screeching, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He smiled and wrote down a few orders, which my aunt shoved in her purse without looking at them.

  Aunt Fay ran through my room, stuffing all the junk I’d accumulated into the duffel bag she’d left in the closet for the occasion. Her excitement was so contagious and she fueled mine enough that I would have left in my pajamas. I showered without my usual audience, so I stood in there for a long time and daydreamed while the water washed my hospital skank down the drain. William consumed my thoughts and I didn’t try very hard to stop it. Thinking about him brought me to a happier place and away from the lonely misery I had to look forward to. I almost considered the possibility that the doctors were right about the hallucinating bit. Maybe the drugs they were giving me made those images so clear in my brain that it got confused and thought they were real. Whatever was happening, I had to keep my h
ead clear so I could figure out how William had really got into my mind.

  My parents never left my thoughts either, although it was easier to accept their strong presence within me. They were a huge part of my life and getting over their deaths would surely take me some time, if I ever got over them at all. I had a lot of memories of them and even though some time frames were filled with holes, I knew who they were, and I was well aware of my happy existence with them.

  I finished my shower and dried off while the steamed glass started to clear. Tension pulled at my shoulders and stiffened my neck when I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes stung as they filled up with tears and I started to cry. Not at my altered appearance, but at the realization that I was alone. Just me. No Mom, no Dad, no William. No matter how helpful and wonderful Aunt Fay was, she couldn’t replace my parents, whom I was going to miss forever. Nor could she replace William, even if by the slim chance they were right and he was just an imaginary love.

  I slid into the wheelchair, although I could have sprinted out of there, and the orderly wheeled me past all my noisy neighbors, whom I wasn’t going to miss. We waited for the car to pull up and my lungs automatically inhaled the freshness of the late summer breeze. I wasn’t happy, but I was happy to get out of there. It was August 15, 2010. I had missed almost three months of my life and I was ready to reclaim myself—whoever that was.

  Chapter 6

  Back to Life

  The ride home was quiet, interrupted every once in a while by some nonsensical chatter. I didn’t care, though. My eyes were too busy sucking up tiny things that brought back boatloads of memories. The farms we passed reminded me of being a little girl and feeding the animals with my father. I remembered picking apples with my mother and baking them into delicious pies we’d bring to our friends. We passed the grocery store in town where I fell and banged my head when I was about four years old, trying to reach the cereal. My mother held a bag of frozen peas on it, but I got a nice sized goose egg on my forehead anyway.

  We pulled into Aunt Fay’s drive, which I remembered well. I remembered that big wrought iron fence at the entrance to the driveway, the river running through the beautiful landscape, the barn, the horse fields and the riding arena. I knew it all. I called out all of the scenery before it came into view, as a way of convincing Aunt Fay that bringing me home was a good idea. She couldn’t hide her happiness that I remembered so much.

  “Okay, tootsie, we’re home!” Aunt Fay announced as we walked through the front door and into the river room, as it was called. That grandiose room, built over the river, had glass walls on either side from floor to ceiling. The spectacular view changed with the weather, but was always beautiful, no matter the season. To stand on the silk carpet surrounded by pricey antiques with a river running underfoot mesmerized me. So many people were in awe of that glorious entrance. The house, as massive as it was unique, had over a hundred years of history behind it. This ‘castle’ was now my home. A mighty big adjustment from our apartment in the city.

  “I thought you’d prefer to pick out which bedroom suite you would like to claim as your own, Lex. The one over the stream is my favorite, but the water hitting the rocks might keep you up at night. The other one is a little smaller, but it’s more toward the side of the house where you won’t hear the stream. The choice is yours. Whatever makes you more comfy.”

  “I’ll take the one with the river.” My mother had loved the ambiance of that room and I thought I’d do well there. I brushed my hand along the beautiful antiques lining the wall. My eyes drifted over to the corner of the room where the baby grand sat, untouched, for quite a while it seemed. I know I took lessons, but did I play? Was I any good? Did I remember how? Aunt Fay noticed my empty stare and jumped in for the rescue.

  “Go ahead, Lex, give it a whirl!” She moved fast across the room and pulled the bench out for me to take a seat. Like everything else in the house, the bench was big and heavy, but she yanked it out with both hands in one mean pull. “I never was much of a piano player. I bought this because it was such a beautiful piece and it fit perfectly in this room. You were my only hope of keeping it in tune and dust-free.” She laughed at her own joke while she casually brushed a few dust specks off the seat.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” I hesitated at first, but then walked over to the bench anyway. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Oh, just give it a try. You never know.” It was obvious she was trying to make light of it. Fay took a seat in the big velvet king’s chair next to the piano and waited patiently for me to entertain her.

  I slid onto the seat, put my foot on the soft pedal and lined up my fingers on the keys. I closed my eyes and searched my mind for any memory of playing. At first, I struck the keys out of sequence, making an awful noise that sounded a lot like a toddler banging on the keyboard. Then William’s face flashed before my eyes. The warm sensation that started in my chest traveled down to my fingertips. I started to play a beautiful melody that brought him to the front of my mind. My William. He’d played that piece in his fortress in London, while I’d watched in sheer amazement because it was so beautiful. I remembered the day like it was yesterday. For a fraction of a second, I paused to fight the daydream, if that’s what it was. I played until my fingers got stiff and then I opened my eyes.

  Aunt Fay, in the gaudy king’s chair exactly as she was before I played, had makeup-stained tears running down her cheeks. “Lexi, that was the most beautiful thing I ever heard. Where did you hear that? I know it sounds crazy, but you seem to play better now than you ever did!”

  “I... I don’t know,” I stammered. “I guess it’s something I just never played for you.” I downplayed my shock at my own ability. Fay changed the subject.

  “Lex, I don’t want to throw too much at you but how would you feel about starting to see some visitors? It’s been hard keeping them away, you know,” she laughed. “I mean, you’ll have to start school soon, so you can graduate on time, and it’s probably a good idea to get yourself reacquainted with the old gang first. You know, so it’s not too overwhelming when you go back.”

  Fear twisted around my insides until it settled in my throat with a big lump. Would I actually remember anyone well enough? I swallowed the lump and answered fast without thinking through it.

  “Sure, who wants to see me?”

  “Lots of people, but Paige Clarkson is going to have a breakdown if she’s not first! You remember her, don’t you? You still kept in touch with her a lot after you moved to New York. She’s been pestering me almost every day to see you, but if you remember anything about her, you know that she’s a strange duck. You know, a little over the top, especially for someone not...” She stumbled, not wanting to say something offensive about my mental capacity. “...Not feeling up to snuff,” she finished.

  After a small, but very uncomfortable silence, I realized what she was doing. I didn’t want her to weigh every word she said before she said it. Whether it was real or not, I hated when my parents and William treated me like a child. And I still hated it.

  “Don’t worry. I know I still have some memory issues and you don’t have to act like they don’t exist. I do remember Paige and I know she is a strange duck, as you put it.” I laughed.

  Fay climbed over the bench and sat beside me. “You know, you still manage to amaze me, Lex. After all you’ve been through, most people would’ve come out of this completely broken. Your will and determination are just like your mother’s. You’re doing great, honey, and I’m so proud of you.” She kissed me on the forehead and I rested my head on her shoulder.

  “Okay, when do we start the parade of my past?” I asked. I remembered that Aunt Fay loved to host parties so I thought it would make her happy to throw one for me. If nothing else, it would distract her a little. “How about we just invite everyone I know over and then I won’t feel the pressure of a one-on-one conversation?”

  “You mean a party? Sounds like a great idea to me! Are you sure you can handle it?
You know an awful lot of people.”

  “Yep. We’ll have the soiree of the century,” I said, almost convincing myself. “When should we do it?”

  “I think I can have Maria pull it all together by next weekend. That would be plenty of time to get things ready and for you to, well, get used to things here.”

  “Maria?” Before she could answer, I threw up my hand and prompted her to stimulate my mind. “Wait.” The memories of the petite, dark-haired woman with big brown eyes flashed through my head. “Your personal assistant. Her daughter’s name is Anna and she goes to university in Argentina. Her son, Antonio, is the landscape architect who designed the landscape around the river and the carriage house!” Aunt Fay looked stunned.

  “That’s right! Even I forgot where Anna went to school! You really are amazing, Lex! I think this party is a fabulous idea and you’re going to be just fine. More than fine!”

  “I hope,” I muttered under my breath. I meandered over to the huge picture window that overlooked the stone footbridge flecked with moss. “You mind if I take a walk around the property?”

  “You don’t have to ask me, honey. This is your house and everything here belongs to you. Just bring your cell phone in case you aren’t feeling well or something. I’ll get the party plans underway while you’re outside. Is there anything special you’d like for dinner?”

  “Anything’s fine, Aunt Fay. I’m not fussy. At least, I don’t think I am.” I hoped I was far enough away from her that she didn’t hear that last part.

  It was so odd, and even a little scary, being by myself. My every move had been under the watchful eyes of some medical personnel since I’d woke up. The very small feat of walking around, unescorted, almost felt monumental. I admired the trees with their sweeping leaves draping the winding country drive. The names of each one of them came to me so easily that it gave me a little hope. Maybe I was still a genius. The sound of the water was so soothing and it reinforced my decision to take the bedroom above the river, so I could hear it whenever I wanted.