I put my hand on the doorknob, ready to go out and change positions with her. "what?"
"I want to go with you. Let us travel together."
My eyes searched the entire area. It looks like we are not being followed, but I am not good at this kind of thing. "If they find you are with me, you may be in trouble. Are you out of work?"
"It's not that I can't afford bail," she said. "I am very busy now. I can spare a day."
I must look suspicious.
"I mean it," she said.
Allie didn't come because Garrison would definitely stare at her. Kyla is different. Our lives are separate, and her absence may not raise any doubts. "are you sure?"
"Of course, this is a big deal. I don't think you should go alone. I'm thinking about taking a road trip right now."
"You want to bother me with Ellie and Ryan."
"There is still this problem," she said, with a lovely tilt of her head.
"Allie may beg you to go," I added.
She grinned, but she was neither affirmative nor denying my accusation. I relaxed, unaware that I was even nervous all the time. Am I really afraid to go alone? Even if I really want this company, how can I take Keira to St. Louis to see Rachel
"Okay," I said at last. I have made a new plan in my mind. "I'll drive."
When we evacuated from a small two-pump gas station in an unnamed town, a large green interstate I-64 cross sign attracted my attention. I must act. Either now or never.
"Have you been to St. Louis?" I asked.
"When I was a kid," Keira said. "I remember walking into the archway, and I was scared because it was blowing in the wind."
"Do you want to do it again?" I asked. I think my smile is too big, too urgent. "It's only 80 miles away."
"Your mother's funeral will begin in four hours," she said. "We have almost no time for sightseeing."
"We can wander around the city for an hour or so, and then come back in a long time," I said with a smile. I hope I did not go too far.
Kayla didn't seem interested. "I don't think we should change the plan."
"The truth is like this." I have to admit at least part of my plan. I don't want to watch-watch. "I used to live in St. Louis and I have a best friend, Rachel. She is actually more of a mentor. Anyway, she is sick and now lives in the hospital. I really want to see her."
Kayla hesitated, so I had to stretch my lower lip a little further.
"An hour?" she asked.
"Less," I said. "If you want, we can even squeeze into the arch."
"I would rather go to the St. Louis Art Museum. They have the largest MaBeckma in the world
Collection, but I cannot get in and out of that place within an hour. "
"But will you take me?" I asked. I carefully kept my lower lip.
"Only you swear not to tell Ellie," she said, walking to I-64W St. Louis. "If she knows we have deviated from the plan, she will kill me."
"I will find someone to replace you, no problem," I said happily, sitting in my seat. "Oh, one more thing."
Keira's shoulders tightened.
"The hospital I'm talking about refers to the jīng god hospital."
"Oh my God, Fan Fan."
"You don't have to go in," I added quickly. "I swear I won't stay for long."
Keira held her breath and swears, but she didn't look back. I think this is a good sign.
It’s not difficult to find the St. Louis Jīng God Rehabilitation Center. Mainly because Kayla has a global positioning system, but also because GPS doesn't tell us everything, such as telling us which entrance to use. My memory made up for the rest. I've only been here once, on the last day in St. Louis, but it was memorable.
I got out of the car and Kyla did not get out of the driver's seat. "Aren't you coming?"
"You said I didn't need to do this!"
The thought of going in alone makes my heart quicker, but if this is not the good time in her mind, I can't blame her. The jīng god hospital is super horrible. Despite this, I kind of wished she could go in. Allie would do this.
"I'll be right back," I said, closing the door reluctantly.
A huge sweeping entrance, the pillars stretched out several stories. The urge to run back into the car is disturbing and definitely a bad omen.
The building itself is a square brick box, which looks like an old school or orphanage. A dome of green and gold sits on the top, pointing to the sky suggestively. In the appearance of the last century, the white cinder-brick walls and bland tiles creaked under my sneakers.
I don't remember her location in the building, but I found a plaque on the wall with a black background and removable white letters. I refrained from letting them swear swearing everywhere, but went to find the ward I needed.
On the fourth floor, I met a large reception desk, managed by a squatting nurse with a honeycomb haircut. I imagine she has combed her hair like this for the past fifty years.
"We have no visiting time except Wednesday," she explained.
"I'm from an out-of-state. I drove over from a long distance," I pleaded. I blinked. "Please."
"Who are you here to visit?" she asked.
Rachel Wright.
She glanced at her medical record again and asked my name. I gave her a pseudonym before I even thought of giving her a pseudonym.
"You are on the authorized list, and you have an out-of-state address, so I will let it slide once, dear," she said with a nervous smile. "Please sign this check-in form."
I don't know why my name appears on the list unless Brinkley put it there. I stared at the pillar and hesitated. I don't want others to know that I am here, but if I want to see her, what choice do I have? I scribble my name as much as possible. In this case, if someone wants to use this paper in court, they will never be able to prove that it is my signature. "Where is she?"
"You wait here, I'll go and ask where she wants to see you," the nurse said.
Where does she want to go? When did they start letting the patient decide things? When the queen bee appeared again, I was confused about it, and she opened a door for me.
"In this hall, the fifth door on the right, dear," she said. "She is in her room."
"Are you going to let me visit her in her room?" I asked. My shock must be obvious. "one person?"
"We put a chair there for you." She drove me to an open door at the end of the corridor, and returned to her paperwork.
I don’t know what I hope to see in Rachel’s bedroom, or which state Rachel will be in, but that’s not the case.
As the nurse promised, they brought a chair and sat on the edge of a bed. The two double beds rest side by side, one is empty and the other has Rachel in it. Rachel was leaning back against the wall, her knees pressed close enough to her chest to balance a piece of paper on her knees. There are two tables between the two beds, one for each bed.
"Don't be afraid," Rachel said, black eyes staring at the edge of her knee. "I have taken medicine today"
I must be because she suddenly laughed, so I must have made a face.
"Oh, Jessup, don't do that. She laughed, tears stinging her eyes." I was joking. "She put a piece of paper in **. This is a sketchbook similar to the one I gave to Gloria. She let go of her hand and motioned for me to enter the room. Last time I saw her make this lively Rachel look When it was a bit scary, she was almost nervous and drooling.
I walked into the room.
"Closer," she gestured. One side of her hand is black, with the charcoal she painted on it, but her hand is full of charcoal, which is better than any day. "Let me take a good look at you. Of course, you haven't grown old at all, of course we haven't."
I also saw her looks clearly. Her hair is as long as the feathers of a crow, smooth and black. Her eyes are the black marble on her face, and I almost forgot the Monroe mole on her left cheek. The matte-like pajamas and the clothes without makeup are inferior to the bright clothes and bright lipsticks that Rachel once wore: many red and purple sès, which make her black features more exotic. She is not as charming as I remembered, but I think living in the jīng god hospital will have such an impact on people.
"This is the time for you to praise me," she said, pretending to be insulting me. "Didn't I teach you anything?"
"You look very angry," I stammered, trying to shake off the shock with a wink. "Much better than I thought."
"Yes," she said, speaking out. "Thanks to Brinkley, I have come a long way in the past two years."
"I'm sorry." I thought she was mocking me because he put her here.
"Why?" She tilted her head to one side. It's too old—Rachel, I smiled. "I am grateful for everything he did for me"
I did not follow her. "What did he do for you?"
"He came to see us. He brought me good things and made sure that I have the best food and the best doctors. Patients like me have no family to talk about, but I have three separate volunteers to spend with me. Yes. Andrew, one of them is so cute."
She blinked, as if she really believed that she was spoiled. God, I never realized that I learned my pretended humility from her.
"You look surprised," she said, laughing again.
"Because the last time I saw you, you almost lost consciousness. And the time before that -" I blurted out. I immediately took a step back. I have read somewhere that if patients face their pain, they will go crazy. Or at least this is what I read in the article Brinkley asked me to read, hope I can understand my client's aversion to death. This is what I expected Rachel to do, not willing to admit it, and then attacked me. (To be continued) (End of this chapter)