The Return by Christopher Pike Read Free Book Online

just that your mother didn't think we should tell you when you woke up. She wanted to wait until you were stronger."
    "I understand," Jean said softly, staring at the far wall, seeing only wheelchairs and impassable stairways, boredom and despair for Lenny. He was so active—
    how would he be able to live? She added, "Is there anything else you want to tell me? That you were afraid to tell me?"
    Carol raised her head and nodded. "There is one other thing. The fall was rough on you. While you were unconscious, you began to bleed, you know, down there. You lost the bebi, Jean."
    Jean blinked. "What baby?"
    "Your baby. You were pregnant, remember?"
    Jean couldn't keep up with the barrage of information. It was true she could remember buying and taking the E.P.T., and failing it. She could also remember telling Carol about it. Yet, at the same time, she had trouble accepting the fact that she had indeed been pregnant. Like it was something that could not possibly have happened to her, not under ordinary circumstances. But there was no arguing with the facts. Strangely, she felt neither relief nor a sense of loss that the baby was gone. She simply felt nothing, as if the whole matter had been someone else's problem.
    "Does my mother know I was pregnant?" Jean asked.
    "Yes. The doctor told her, after your miscarriage. She took it well. She didn't freak out or anything."
    "Bueno. Anything else?"
    Carol smiled sadly. "No. Except that I'm glad you're awake and feeling better."
    Jean patted Carol's hand. "You're a good friend. Thank you for staying with me while I was out. I won't forget that."
    Carol did a double take. "I've never heard you talk that way before."
    "Talk what way?"
    "I don't know, just the way you're talking. You sound nicer than usual."
    Jean nodded. "Maybe the fall did me some good."
    Her mother returned with Dr. Snapple, who must have changed his name to his favorite drink because there was no disguising the fact that he had been born in the Middle East. Dr. Snapple had a thick accent and a face so dark he could have been conceived staring into the sun. He was a big man with fingers as thick as Cuban cigars. Jean didn't find him attractive but competent, preferable for a physician. Dr. Snapple asked her a few questions about how she felt and did a number of tests involving her vision. The results seemed to satisfy him, but when he touched her right side and the back of her head she groaned.
    Not mentioning her miscarriage, he explained that her concussion and broken ribs would take time to heal, that there was no magic procedure to speed her recovery. At the same time, he said she was to stay in the hospital for at least two more days, possibly three or four. Jean fretted over the cost. She had no insurance.
    "Why can't I go home now?" she asked. "If you can't do anything for me?"
    "Because you have been unconscious for over two days," he said. "Who's to say you might not slip back into a coma? We have to keep you for observation."
    "But I won't go back into a coma," Jean said. "It's not possible."
    Dr. Snapple was amused. "Since when did you develop the ability to see inside your own brain?"
    Jean was annoyed. She knew her mother was too proud to accept help from the state. "I don't need to see inside my head to know how I feel. Mama, I shouldn't stay here, you know. How are we going to pay for it?"
    Her mother was staring at her. "You're worried about that? You're not worried about yourself?"
    "Of course I'm worried about the money," Jean said. "We don't have any."
    Her mother smiled faintly. "Don't worry, Jean, we'll find a way." She glanced at Dr. Snapple. "Thankyou, Doctor. I'll make sure she stays here, and in bed."
    Dr. Snapple left and a few minutes later Carol excused herself. For a moment Jean was alone with her mother. It was obvious to Jean that her mother had suffered terribly while she had been unconscious, and that the poor woman didn't know what to say or do now that the worst was over. Jean didn't