JENNIFER sat in the waiting room, waiting.
Because that's what you were supposed to do in a waiting room.
The room WAS packed with other people waiting. Crying. Pacing. Shaking.
A doctor came in and asked one of the waiting to come with him.
She left, and from the hall, Jennifer heard a devastating scream.
Zoe walked in.
Jennifer met her eyes but didn’t say anything.
"Arthur's downstairs with Taylor," Zoe said.
Really. She never wanted to hear those names again.
"Taylor's a mess," Zoe said.
"His heart stopped in the ambulance," Jennifer said. "He died."
Zoe looked terrified. Good. At least she cared. They had one decent daughter. "But he's okay now?"
"No," Jennifer said. "He's in surgery. The doctor's don't know if they can save him. He might have severe brain damage."
"But he's alive," Zoe said.
"He's alive," Jennifer said; then realized it didn’t matter all that much. And with that thought, she felt a small bit of relief.
It was going to be okay.
***
ARTHUR sat in the waiting room of the psychiatric floor.
Emergency had sent them up there after a brief physical examination.
Taylor's examination showed no sign of strangulation.
His phone vibrated in his hand.
He looked.
It was Bernard.
He couldn’t answer. He wasn’t ready to tell his husband that he might have killed his own father.
"Hi."
Arthur looked up and saw Zoe.
She sat down next to him and took his hand.
He broke down, weeping.
She rested her head against his arm.
After some time, he pulled himself together.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"What happened?" she asked.
"I thought he was trying to kill her."
Zoe sighed. "It might have been the opposite."
He shook his head. "She wouldn't."
"It's all over his body. She stabbed him with the scissors. And there were bite marks." Zoe wiped away a tear. "He was trying to protect himself."
Arthur started crying again. "I don't get it. What is it? Schizophrenia? I thought she just had an eating disorder. And she was getting better."
Zoe shook her head. "No, she's not mentally ill. You know that stuff Grandma Cornelia was talking about? The Arcide?" And then Zoe told him everything. It was just as she got to the end of the story that the police officer arrived.
"Arthur Jenson."
"That's me," he said quietly.
"You need to come with us," she said, rather gently for the circumstances. "We have some questions for you."
***
JENNIFER hardly felt any sorrow when the doctor called her into the hallway.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"He's dead?"
"No. But there's little hope of recovery. There was too much bleeding. His brain. We did what we could. But the blunt trauma…."
She started giggling. It was all so silly and ironic. The other day. Phillip had complained about romantic relationships between the living and dead. She doubted he'd complain now.
"Mrs. Jenson? Are you okay?"
He didn’t seem too shocked by the giggling. Jennifer realized he had probably become used to this type of reaction. There wasn’t much reason to cry these days.
It was all going to be okay.
***
Zoe didn’t recognize the crying girl, with the boy, who headed towards her. But she knew who they were.
She stood up and hugged Jessica. Then she started crying too.
"Jesse's with her," Frankie said. "I mean he's with Taylor."
Jessica sniffled. "He'll watch out for her." "
Keith is here too," she said, wishing she could actually feel his presence.
***
The police station was crowded with people who looked terrified and depressed.
The officer, who brought Arthur in, asked him to sit on a bench.
He squeezed in between a crying woman and a teenager nervously biting her nails.
He waited and waited.
It seemed like forever before he was called into a room. An interrogation room.
He expected to be bombarded with angry questions. Accused.
It was nothing like that. The police officer seemed actually sympathetic. The good cop.
But then where was the bad cop?
Maybe he would come later.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"I heard screaming. I came into the room. And I thought my dad was attacking my sister. I tried to get him to stop. Then I hit him over the head."
The police officer sighed. "That stopped him."
Arthur nodded; then started crying.
The police officer reached behind her and grabbed a box of Kleenex. She handed it to Arthur.
He took a tissue and wiped his nose.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"I guess you'll have to arrest me."
"Not exactly," she said. She sighed again. "Look. It's all a mess. We're completely swamped. Your family is one of many that…well, we've never seen anything like it. It's like the world has gone to hell."
Arthur looked down at his trembling hands.
"How's your sister?"
"She's catatonic," he said.
"I'm sorry." She looked at him a moment; then said, "Okay. So, you're free to go. But I'm going to have to ask you to stay in town…at least for a while. We're going to have further questions. Eventually."
"Okay," he said.
Continue to Chapter Fifty-Three
Go Back to Chapter Fifty-One
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