Page 9 of Sparking Sara

I look at Sara’s room, still empty of people. “I’d appreciate that.”

He nods to a hand sanitizer dispenser on the wall. “Use that if you’re going to touch her. Stay clear of her head, but if you want to hold her hand, that would be okay.”

“I don’t even know her,” I say.

“Human touch can do miraculous things,” he says, walking away.

I pump the antiseptic into my hands before I approach the bed, remembering that I’ve already held her hand. I’ve held her hand through the scariest time in her life. And one of the scariest in mine.

I pick up the chair in the corner and put it next to her bed. I appraise her before sitting down. My eyes glance over her from head to toe. She has stitches on the right side of her head. A lot of them. And her hair is bloody and matted. She has a wire coming out of the other side of her skull that looks to be held in by surgical tape. There is a machine that’s breathing for her, and I watch her chest rise and fall with every sound of the machine. I glance over the thin sheet that’s barely covering her, wanting to put a blanket on her and tuck her in, but there’s not one in sight.

A machine beeps and a nurse walks into the room, smiles at me, and pushes a button on it. “Someone will be in to clean her up shortly.”

“Good,” I say, finally taking a seat next to Sara. “Can I get a blanket for her?”

“Sorry,” the nurse says, nodding to one of the machines. “She’s running a high temperature. We need to keep her cool.”

Once the nurse leaves the room, I take Sara’s hand. It’s limp and not at all like it felt the last time I held it. And it’s warm. Much warmer than I thought it would feel since she’s unconscious and close to death. I guess that’s because she’s got a fever.

I look at her face, and for a moment, I see my mother’s. If only I could have been there for her. Heldherhand. Sat byherside. It’s not that I don’t think about my dad. But Dad was big and strong, like me. Mom was petite like Aspen. Like Sara.

I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t even be with her when she died. I look around the empty room. But I can behere. I can be with Sara. Especially since nobody else is.

I remember what Kyle said about talking to her, so I clear my throat. “Um … so you were in an accident, Sara. You’re in the hospital now. They gave you some drugs to help you sleep so you can heal. I’m Denver. Remember me? I’m the one who got sick all over the back seat. I’m sorry about that.”

I decide not to talk about her friend. If she can hear me, she’d be devastated to know that her friend died.

“The doctor said your family has been contacted. I’m sure they’ll be here soon. I’ll stay with you until they get here. Remember how you didn’t want to be alone in the car? I get that. Being alone sucks. I was alone for a long time when I lived in Kansas City. But I guess that’s a story for another day. My point is, it sucks, so I’ll stay here with you. They said someone will be in to clean you up soon. Uh, you look fine. I mean you look pretty even just lying here. I’m sure you’re cold. The nurse said you have a fever. I wanted to give you a blanket, but she said I couldn’t. You know, I’m not really sure what to talk about. I just wanted you to know that someone was here. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, I’m sure you’re scared. But there are people who need you to fight to get better. People who are depending on you.”

I find it hard not to choke up thinking about my parents.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I don’t know if you have a husband or kids, but if you do, they would want me to tell you that you need to fight to come back to them. Trust me. I know. You need to do everything you can to get better.”

I hear a noise behind me and see a nurse lurking in the doorway. I stand up. “Uh, sorry.”

“No, you’re fine. But the doctor is on his way to clean her up if you don’t mind waiting outside for a bit.”

“Okay, sure.” I turn to Sara. “I’ll be back in a little while, Sara.”

I’m not sure why I said that to her. It’s not like she knows who I am or cares that I’m leaving. I sit on a bench outside her door and watch a doctor walk in and pull a curtain around her.

After a few minutes of fiddling around with my phone, a nurse walks up with a woman. “Your cousin is right in there. The doctor is in with her. He’ll be out in a few minutes if you can wait here.”

“Alright. Thank you.” The woman looks at me and then the door behind me. “You must be Oliver.”

I stand up. “No. I’m Denver. I was one of the firefighters on the scene of the accident.”

“Oh, sorry. I just assumed.”

“Who’s Oliver?”

“Her boyfriend.”

“But you’ve never met him?”

“No.” She shifts her weight around from foot to foot. “Sorry, I’m Sara’s cousin, Joelle. I’m really her only family with the exception of my mom, but she’s in a memory care facility.” She nods to the door. “Sara and I aren’t exactly close. I know about Oliver but I’ve never met him.”

“Nice to meet you, Joelle. Has Oliver been contacted?”

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