Waking Rose: A Fairy Tale Retold by Regina Doman Read Free Book Online Page A

an article on it using her as an anonymous source. Your dad interviewed her extensively and gathered a lot of information, but he couldn’t substantiate a lot of what she said. And his editor didn’t want to touch the story. I don’t know all the details, but I know your father was extremely upset over it. That’s one of the reasons why he quit, actually. I wish I knew some of the details. Anyway, abuse of hospital patients would probably fall under your topic—you know, cases where patients are neglected, denied proper treatment, and so on.”
    “Yes, but it’s rather unpleasant,” Rose agreed, shivering involuntarily. “What happened to the nurse?”
    “I’m not sure. She may still be in the area. If she is, she would probably talk to you about it. It’s been years since that happened, though.”
    Rose found herself getting interested. “You know, I’d actually like to find out more about the story. Do you have any of Dad’s notes from the interviews or would he have left them in his newspaper’s office?”
    Mom ruminated. “Daniel always kept everything he wrote. You know, the notes from the interviews are probably all still in storage in Grandma Brier’s old barn, near the house where we used to live. We weren’t able to bring most of that stuff with us when we moved to Warwick, and I suppose your father forgot about it over time. Someone in the family still uses the farmland, but I don’t think the house has been lived in since Grandma died and we left it. It was in pretty bad shape. You could probably go and poke around in the barn. Your dad kept everything in big file boxes in the hayloft.”
    “How could I get there?”
    “I’ll give you your cousin Jerry’s number and he could tell you. I’m sure they won’t mind if you go out there to look for the notes. They’d probably be glad to move some of that stuff out of there. Plus, it would be good for you to visit them. Let me get the number.” She found it, read it out to Rose, who scribbled it in her notebook.
    “All right!” Rose said. “Thanks, Mom. This really helps me out.”
    “I’m glad. Now, if you do get the part in the play, make sure you keep up your studies.”
    “I think I’ll be able to,” Rose said. “Love you, Mom.”
     
    H IS
     
    Fish woke up in a sweat, and started. Had he been screaming? He quickly glanced around the room, but the house was quiet. His apartment was fairly secluded. Most likely, no one had heard him.
    Grateful, he put his head back down on the pillow and prayed to go back to sleep. But the re-living of the ordeal had been too real.
    I’m just nervous about my classes , he told himself. Extra stress. The beginning of the semester. That’s what brought it all back.
    He was teaching his first class for Dr. Anschlung tomorrow. Even though he had prepared thoroughly, he must still be on edge.
    There was nothing to do but get out of bed. He pushed back the covers and got up. Rubbing his neck, which had been tense during the nightmare, he went out to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of milk. It was common, he had heard, for people in his situation to have vivid flashbacks of the torture experience. He wondered if it would be like this all his life, waking up in the night, standing dully in the kitchen, drinking milk, emotionally exhausted.
    Freet is still having his revenge on me, he thought grimly, and smiled. The one consolation he had was that he guessed the flashbacks would be much worse if he had actually given in.
    After taking another glass of milk, Fish picked up his backpack from the living room and hunted around in it for his rosary. That might put him back to sleep, and keep him from the usual after-effects of remembering. I’ll go rock climbing this weekend , he told himself. Maybe he could get one of his classmates to go with him. I need to start exercising more often, to keep this kind of tension from building up. That’s what I’ll do. Can’t be a graduate assistant if I have to