Cherry Red Summer (Emely and Elyas Book 1) (17 page)

I didn’t know how much time I had to get there, but I felt sure—as never before in my life—that I couldn’t wait five more hours to get going. I needed to get to my mother. The idea that she was hurt and I wasn’t with her sent cramps through all the muscles in my gut. I
had
to get to her. There was no alternative.

Nicolas!
I suddenly thought. He had a car. Normally I’d never ask someone to drive me a hundred miles in the middle of the night, but this wasn’t a normal situation. I was already searching for his number when I remembered he’d lost his phone a couple of weeks ago, and I didn’t know his landline, if he even had one.

But Eva was with him!

Trembling, I clicked through the contacts, dialed, and waited for Eva to pick up, but all I got was her voicemail.

“Eva, this is Emel
y . . .
M
y . . .
parent
s . . .
They had an accident. Can you call me back as soon as you get this?”

I hung up.

What should I do now? I ran my fingers through my hair and left them at the base of my neck. I felt so totally powerless yet overcome with an urge to do
something
.

Alex!
Exactly. I had to call Alex. She didn’t have a car, but maybe she could come by an
d . . .
I didn’t know what we’d do after she came over. I just needed her.

I paced my room waiting for her to answer, but instead of her voice I got a tinny “The party you are trying to reach is unavail—” I hung up.

“Of all days to have her phone off!” I said, throwing my phone onto the bed. Then I remembered that Alex had been to the movies. Maybe she was home by now but had forgotten to turn her phone back on. I hastily dialed her landline. But the second I heard the idiotic answering machine, my heart sank even further.

“Ale
x . . .
it’s m
e . . .
You’ve got to call me bac
k . . .
My parents were in an acciden
t . . .
P-please call me back as soon as you get this.” I stammered, dropping the phone again.

I tried to convince myself she’d be home soon. But I wasn’t convincing enough.

Go
d . . .
Mom!
This couldn’t be happening.

What would I do without her?

No. I couldn’t let myself think that way. I wouldn’t tolerate bullshit like that in my head, not even for a second. But thoughts never asked for permission.

I leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees and sinking my head into them.

The longer I sat there, the deeper and deeper I was drawn into a hole. Images flashed of a wrecked car with my parents inside. They were just lying there, bleeding to death, and I couldn’t be with them.

I didn’t understand how it could have happened. My father was the most careful driver I knew. He never sped. Never!

I imagined my mother in surgery, lying in a sterile white room with dozens of doctors in green surgical gowns standing around her, fighting to save her life.

Not knowing what was going on felt like a monster taking huge bites out of me, and the longer I stayed in that spot on the floor, stuck in my dark thoughts, the more the monster devoured. I was numb and paralyzed, trapped in this little room, as though the walls were closing in on me more and more with each breath, soon to crush me to death.

I spent every second dreading that the phone would ring with the nurse on the line, calling to say there was nothing more they could do. That I had lost my mother forever.

At some point I snapped out of it enough to notice a knock on the door.

Alex
, I thought immediately. She must have made it home, listened to her messages, and come over right away. Bracing myself with a hand on the floor and the other on the wall, I heaved myself up. My knees felt weaker than ever before, but I ran to the door. I pictured Alex standing there and could already feel her taking me into her arms. But when I opened the door, all my illusions went up in smoke. It wasn’t Alex.

“Oh, Elya
s . . .
n-now’s not a good time.” I stammered, trying to close the door again. But Elyas forced the door open.

“Emely,” he said, looking me right in the eyes. “I’m not here to annoy you. I heard your message for Alex, and since Alex wasn’t home, I came over. Tell me what’s happened.”

“I-I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head.

“You’re trembling an
d . . .
you’re very pale.”

“
I . . .
mayb
e . . .
what
. . .
”

“Let’s sit down first,” Elyas said, taking hold of my wrist to steady me. He guided me to the bed, sat me carefully on the edge, and squatted down in front of me. “OK, what’s happened, Emely? Your parents were in an accident?”

I nodded.

“Did you get a call from the hospital? How do you know this?”

I nodded again, on autopilot.

“What did they say?”

“Tha
t . . .
that there was a car accident,” I answered. “But I don’t know how that can be true. My father never speeds. Never.”

Elyas looked at me, and then he tried to smile. “He’s not like me, huh?”

No, my father was the opposite of him.

“OK, tell me what they said.”

“My da
d . . .
he broke his leg, but my mom—” I stopped and shook my head.

“What happened to your mother?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged as tears welled up in my eyes. “She’s in surger
y . . .
becaus
e . . .
they said she has severe internal injurie
s . . .
They didn’t know any more than that.” I tried to beat back the sobs. “Internal injuries are bad, Elyas, right?”

He looked at the floor before looking back into my eyes. “It depends.”

“She’s not going to survive, is she?” I started trembling harder, and Elyas took my hands and held them in his.

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Emely,” he said. “Just because she has internal injuries, even severe ones, doesn’t mean she will die.”

Die
. He had said the word
die
. Everything around me melted together through the tears in my eyes.

“We have no idea what kind of injuries she has,” he said softly, stroking my hand. “And if Carla is even half as stubborn as you are, she’ll get through this.”

I didn’t know why, but everything inside me suddenly collapsed. A single tear became rivers, and before I knew it I pulled my hands out of his and hid my face.

“Emely-Bemely,” Elyas whispered.

Mom.
I remembered my last visit home, how she had taken me into her arms to say good-bye. The image filled me with a terrible pain. Elyas set his hand on my head and stroked my hair. When he tried to gently pull me toward him, I jerked back.

“Stop it,” I sobbed into my hands.

“Emely,” he said, sounding much closer than before. “Just forget that I’m usually a stupid jerk, OK?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want him touching me, and I didn’t want him consoling me.

He tried again, but when I jerked back again, this time he wouldn’t let me go. And I couldn’t resist. He carefully put his hands around my back and pulled me toward him. It seemed so wrong, so terribly wrong, but I couldn’t do anything but let it happen. I rested my face, still hidden behind my hands, on his shoulder. “It’s going to be OK,” he whispered into my hair. I sobbed softly, and he held me more tightly.

My nerves had reached their limit. I gave up my hopeless fight, and fell into his arms. Probably because I had forgotten who was holding me. Or maybe because of who was holding me.

He rubbed my back in a slow, even rhythm, and I started to feel reassured.

After a long time my sobs finally eased, and I sat up straighter. He pulled my hands off my face and wiped the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.

“Are they at Neustadt Hospital?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Can you wait a second?” he gently asked. I pushed his hands aside and wiped the rest of my tears off myself. Elyas stood up, got his cell phone out of his pocket, and dialed. He kept an eye on me the whole time.

“Ingo?” he said finally.

Elyas and Alex’s father!
Why hadn’t I thought of him first? Ingo worked at Neustadt Hospital. Maybe he would know more.

“It’s me, Elyas. I’m sorry I woke you up, but it’s really important.” He looked down and explained what had happened. Every word sent a fresh stab into my heart.
Karsten, Carla, car accident
rushed incessantly through my head. I was in a nightmare and couldn’t wake up. I never would—that was becoming clear. Because this wasn’t a nightmare. It was reality.

I winced as Elyas squatted in front of me again a couple of minutes later. He took my hands as he had before. “My dad is going to drive to the hospital right now and call when he knows more.”

I nodded because I had no clue what to say, but all my hopes lay with Ingo. You could always rely on him. I should have known he would drop everything to help my mother. Alex and I were always an inseparable pair, so our parents had gotten to know one another and had become good friends.

“And you,” Elyas continued, “need to pack a few things.”

I furrowed my brow, not understanding.

“I’m driving you to Neustadt,” he said.

C
HAPTER
12

J
OURNEY INTO THE
U
NKNOWN

E
lyas kept his word. Even though I felt like turning down his offer, the imperative of getting home as soon as possible outweighed everything else. We drove and drove and drove, but the trip seemed endless.

It seemed macabre driving down the autobahn at incredibly high speed to make it to the hospital. But I felt oddly confident in Elyas.

My hands were buried in my lap, and I gazed with lifeless eyes into the dark night. I held that position for an eternity. The darkness beyond the pane of glass seemed as empty as the dull feeling in my head.

At some point I asked Elyas to turn on some music, because I couldn’t stand the crushing silence anymore. I needed some kind of noise to concentrate on. We were still waiting for Ingo to call back. Elyas tried to reassure me, saying his father hadn’t been able to learn more yet, because otherwise he would have called. I pretended to be reassured, but his words didn’t have any effect on me. Elyas was making a huge effort to hide his own worry, but I could tell he wasn’t nearly as certain as he was acting. It probably wasn’t the easiest thing, sitting in a car with someone you might have to share bad news with soon.

Was the night always so dark? The blackness swept past us, and we seemed to vanish farther into it with every yard we drove.

My phone had rung three times already. Elyas’s call to his father had woken up his mother, and Alena was the first to call me. She was consumed with worry, and even without seeing her, I could tell she was sitting in their living room holding a cup of coffee, waiting for her own phone to ring. Alena was an angel. No matter how upset she may have been by the bad news, her primary concern was still to reassure me.

I was currently unable to express my gratitude, but I would make that up to her later.

Alex was the second caller. She had listened to her answering machine and called me back immediately. It was a rare moment when Alex couldn’t find words. Never had I yearned more for her incessant chattering.

A couple of minutes later Eva was on the line. She felt terrible she had turned her phone off tonight, of all nights, and said my mother and I were in her thoughts.

I was a poor conversationalist for all three, though. My mouth repeated the pittance of information I had, like a tape recorder, and I could hardly remember what any of them had said. Soon we started seeing the first exit signs for Neustadt. My hands clenched tighter. The seconds passed torturously slowly. Ingo’s call, whether of salvation or doom, never came.

Elyas looked at me. He was probably wishing I would talk to break the silence. But I couldn’t.

Then it happened. The noise I had waited so long to hear: Elyas’s cell phone rang. My heart stopped—and then began racing at twice the speed. Maybe not knowing was better than knowing.

I looked at Elyas, whose face remained expressionless as he answered the phone. Unlike me he was able to pull himself together. He cleared his throat and answered.

“Yes?”

Silence.

“Uh-huh
. . .
”

“Hmm.”

“Good.”

I hung on his every word, searching for the slightest clue. Even a tiny twitch that might point to good news. But I couldn’t decipher anything.

“No, we’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

“OK, thanks.”

“Bye.”

Elyas hung up.
Mom can’t be dead
, I chanted as a silent mantra until Elyas started talking. “Your mother made it through surgery, and Ingo sounds very optimistic.”

I stared at him. “Sh
e . . .
she’
s . . .
goin
g . . .
to be OK?” I asked deliriously.

“Things look good. She’s going to pull through,” Elyas said, smiling, turning me into the happiest, most stunned human being on earth. I shook my head and smiled. I took several deep breaths, and buried my face with relief in my hands. I was going to see my mother again. I hadn’t lost her.

Elyas put his hand on my back, giving final confirmation that I had truly not misheard him.

“Ingo will be waiting for you at the main entrance,” he said after a while. When I looked out the windshield, I realized we were driving through the parking lot in front of the hospital. I could see Ingo waiting as promised in front of the main entrance. What had I done to deserve so many people taking such good care of me? I would be eternally grateful.

The car slowed to a stop. Ingo ran over and opened my door for me, took my hand, and helped me out of the car. “You must be in total shock, Sweet Pea,” he said, gently holding my cheeks in his hands. “You’ll be wanting to see your mother right away,” he said, letting go and looking keenly in my eyes. I nodded, which is all I was able to do.

Ingo leaned through the open car door to talk to Elyas as I looked up at the hospital. What was awaiting me inside? What condition was I about to find my mother in? How severe were her injuries? Would I be able to see them?

“Thank you for driving her,” I heard Ingo saying. “Your mother is waiting for you at home; I called her to let her know the good news. She made your old bed for you. You’d better get some sleep before driving back to Berlin.” Ingo smiled at his son, closed the door, and knocked on the roof of the car. Then he put his hand on my back and guided me into the building. I turned around when I heard the roar of the engine behind us. Elyas was already driving off.

“Elyas
. . .
” I put my hand over my mouth. “I didn’t even thank him.”

Ingo took my shoulder and led me in. “Don’t worry about that. He understands. You’ll have a chance to thank him later.”

It wasn’t right getting out of the car without saying thanks, not that it would have been sufficient anyway. By the time we reached the elevator, though, a switch had flipped in my head. All I could think about were my parents.

The nurses put me into a green surgical gown and green shoe covers before we entered the ICU corridor. The bare walls, sterile floor, smell of disinfectants—they made me queasy. This was a place no one entered who didn’t have to.

After we had walked halfway down the corridor, Ingo opened the door to a room.

I took a deep breath and followed him in. Then I saw her. My mother.

I stared at her for a long time as the penetrating, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor echoed through the room. It was almost hypnotic. Her body was littered with tubes. Some ended at devices, some in little vessels, some in IV bags. Her arms were stretched out next to her body. Her eyes were closed, and her face was as pale as milk.

I slowly approached the bed and took her hand—very carefully, as though I might crush it if I applied any pressure. She looked so fragile. The sight of her seared my retinas like glowing iron.

“Carla is extraordinarily lucky,” Ingo said as he stood at the foot of the bed. I listened without turning from my mother.

“An oncoming driver swerved out of his lane and somehow hit the passenger side of your parents’ car head-on. Your mother was trapped inside, and the paramedics couldn’t help her until the fire department arrived with the Jaws of Life. The vehicle had to be literally sliced open to get her out.”

I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye.

“A metal strut impaled her upper torso, but miraculously missed all of her vital organs. She lost a lot of blood, though, and her body is in extreme shock.”

I stared into my mother’s face, which was scraped up.

“It looked very grave for a while,” Ingo continued, “because the paramedics couldn’t get to her for so long. But after they got her out, they responded quickly. The operation went well, and there haven’t been any complications so far. It will take a while for her to get back on her feet, but she’ll be the same old Carla once she’s recovered,” he said with a smile. Not a word in the world could have expressed how thankful I was to the people who had fought for my mother’s life.

“I-
I . . . I . . .
don’t know what to say,” I stammered.

“You don’t need to say anything, Emely,” Ingo said.

No, it wasn’t as easy as all that. I felt an urgent need to say something, but my throat tightened and the right words wouldn’t sort themselves out. Instead, my father flashed through my thoughts. “What about my dad? How is he?”

“The driver’s side suffered less impact, luckily. Nonetheless, the crash occurred at a high speed, and his right leg is broken in two spots and he broke some ribs. His life was never in danger, but because of the shock, he’s been sedated and is spending the night in the ICU for observation. Later this morning, they’ll move him to a room in the regular ward.”

“Can I see him?”

“It’s better if you let him sleep, Sweet Pea. He’s OK. I think your mother needs you more right now. But I can go check on him again if you like.”

“Yes, please.”

“No problem,” he said, smiling. “I’ll talk with the nurse, and we’ll arrange for you to spend the night here.” I let go of my mother’s arm, ran over to Ingo, and gave him a hug, sobbing. “I’m so thankful to have you,” I said. By
you
I meant the whole
Schwarz family, for once including the member I usually wished didn’t exist.

Ingo led me to the chair and bent over me with a smile. “Emely, you’re a part of our family, and that will always be so,” he said and kissed my forehead. “I’m sure you want to be alone with your mother now,” he said. “If you need anything, I’ll be in the room across the hallway, OK?”

I nodded.

“I’ll stop by in an hour or so,” he promised, patting me on the shoulder before heading to the door.

“Thank you, Ingo,” I called after him.

As he closed the door, I scooted my chair closer to my mother’s bed. “Mom,” I whispered, taking her hand. She looked so beat up, so battered, and yet so peaceful, as though she were only taking a nap. I gently stroked her cheek, trying to imagine what had happened.

I sat and looked at her. My nerves were finished. First the shock of the bad news, then all the hours of not knowing anything and oscillating between hope and fear, and now sitting at her side, knowing that everything had turned out relatively OK.

I felt like my head was wrapped in a thick layer of cotton batting, and everything that permeated it was muffled. But the chaos within me wouldn’t settle down.

My back was killing me, and I could sense brightness through my shut eyelids. Something was stroking my head, weakly, almost imperceptibly. I blinked my eyes open and saw only white. My mother’s blanke
t . . .
I had fallen asleep with my head on her bed. I ran my hands over my face and rubbed my eyes, becoming more and more aware of who was touching my head. I jerked my head up and found myself staring into my mother’s brown eyes. She was awake. She was actually awake.

“Mom!” I grabbed for her hand as my eyes welled up. “How are you feeling?” She still looked as awful as the night before.

“Pretty wel
l . . .
I think,” she whispered with great effort. “The painkillers they have here aren’t bad.”

I beamed as tears poured down my cheeks. I sniffled and wiped them away. “Dad is all right; you don’t need to worry about him,” I said.

“I know,” she answered. “Ingo stopped by ten minutes ago.”

All I could do was look at her and smile. She was alive. She would still be with me.

Even if it took a while before she was back on her feet again, she was going to recover. That was the main thing. Nothing else mattered. My mother was a fighter, and she would pull through.

I squeezed her hand. “I was so afraid.”

“You didn’t think
. . . ,
” she whispered, “I’d kick the bucket before you got married, did you?”

The next tear rolled down my cheek and reached my lips.

“You’re impossible, Mom,” I said, pulling myself up to take her gently into my arms. She reached her hand up and put it around my back with a soft “Ow.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” I said, straightening up, but she waved it off.

“It’s not that bad.”

Still, I didn’t think any more hugs were a good idea. I sat back down just as Ingo walked in.

How many hours had he been up now? Too many, judging by the bags under his eyes.

He came over to the bed. “I just wanted to say good-bye,” he said. “I’ll be back after I’ve had a few hours’ sleep.”

“Not just
a few
hours—sleep as long as you need!” I said.

He smiled. “Is that an order?”

“Yup,” I confirmed.

“Well, then I’ll have to obey.”

“There’ll be hell to pay if you don’t!” I said. I moved my foot and it hit something on the floor: my travel bag.

I didn’t remember getting it out of the trunk. Ingo and I had walked straight into the hospital, so it must have still been in Elyas’s trunk. How had it gotten here?

Looking around for an explanation, I noticed a bouquet of flowers on the nightstand next to the bed. “Do you have an admirer?” I asked my mother with a wink.

“Elyas dropped those off,” Ingo said. “He stopped by this morning before driving back to Berlin.”

Elyas had been here?