Beautiful: Truth's Found When Beauty's Lost Part 11

Quote for the day: "You are good when you walk to your goal firmly and with bold steps.

You are not evil when you go thither limping.

Even those who limp go not backward."

-The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran I'd like to think that I'm going somewhere, but maybe I'm only limping forward. Thank you, Kahlil, for reminding us that even slowly forward is not backward.

That's all I've got today.

h.e.l.lo, Ellie. I'm Dr. Crane. You gave everyone a pretty good scare there for a while."

Ellie could see the doctor with her right eye, but she couldn't get up or fix her hair or anything. Her left eye was swollen closed or bandaged; she wasn't sure which. Dr. Crane didn't speak to her as if she were half-dead, but as if she were sitting in his office, listening to him explain everything.

"Do you remember the accident?"

She nodded.

"Do you know that you're at the UC-Davis Burn Center?"

"I am? I thought I was in Redding," she whispered and looked around the room. "Where is Davis?"

"Near Sacramento. You were airlifted here after the accident."

All this time she'd been hours from home, and she didn't even know it.

"So do you understand the extent of your injuries?"

She shook her head.

"You have a hairline fracture to your left femur and a number of lacerations. You sustained third-degree burns on about 25 percent of your body, all contained to your left side as well. We had a scare with infection from the burn and pneumonia. You had a bad concussion as well, but you're doing well now. I'm going to explain what we've been doing to you."

"So how bad is it?"

"Not so bad. It'll take time. A lot of surgeries. But you'll have full functionality."

"What will I look like? Did my hair, is my hair . . . ?" She reached her right hand up and was surprised that it moved, then reached for her head. She found hair, though it was matted down and tangled. She tapped lightly over her head, and the pain increased.

"Your hair is still there. The burns were sustained on your left side-face, neck, arm, and hip."

"My face? How bad is my face?" Fear quickened her heartbeat. She'd known her face was injured, but the pain had been so intense Ellie hadn't worried about how her face might look or how bad it actually was.

"You've already improved dramatically."

"What does improved dramatically mean?" Anger grew inside of her, a type of anger she had never known. "Just tell me. And in English."

"Sweetie," Mom said, wiping away a few loose tears. "Dr. Crane is trying to tell you."

"Eventually, if all goes as well as we hope, your scars will be barely visible."

Ellie wanted to sit up. She wanted a mirror to see. "How long is eventually?"

"These are all things that I'll go over with you. There is dermabrasion and grafting-"

"How long?"

"It depends on how quickly you heal and how your body responds. There will be improvement every month."

"How long until the scars are barely visible?"

"If all goes well, that will take several years."

Megan hated school. People were nice to her suddenly. Cla.s.smates, undercla.s.smen, and administrators said h.e.l.lo and tried talking to her. Her friends were nicer, and Ellie's friends acted as if she was their sister too. It was disconcerting. Wrong.

As Megan was getting some peanut M&Ms out of the vending machine, Princ.i.p.al Ramos stopped beside her.

"Could I talk to you in my office for a minute, Miss Summerfield?" Mrs. Ramos liked to talk to students in her office, but that usually wasn't a good thing.

Megan muttered okay and followed the princ.i.p.al down the hallway to her office.

"Go ahead and close the door," Mrs. Ramos said once they were inside, which also wasn't a good sign.

Megan wondered what the princ.i.p.al might have heard about her. Megan hadn't done anything wrong, at least not at school.

"Have a seat."

Megan sat down without saying a word.

"How are you doing through all of this?"

"All of this?" Megan said, knowing full well what she meant, but after a day of Vanessa, Lindsey, Tiffany, and others talking to her, asking if she had lip gloss and complimenting her usual black wardrobe, she wasn't in a very generous mood.

"I talked to your parents this morning, and they gave me an update on Ellie's progress. That was encouraging to hear."

Megan wondered what was all so encouraging. Her sister was alive, but in severe pain. Yeah, encouraging.

"But I wanted to check on you. You're staying at home alone."

"Yep."

"Do you need anything?"

Megan paused and then said, "Can't think of anything."

"And you are okay alone?"

She nodded, thinking that a few times she'd had friends stay over, but that didn't need to be advertised.

"And you're all right with your cla.s.ses? I see that you've kept up your grades." Mrs. Ramos glanced at the computer as she said that, obviously looking at Megan's file.

"I'm doing fine." She nodded her head.

"What are your plans for next year, Megan?"

Megan wanted to say she might go to tattoo university or volunteer for risky clinical drug trials for the pay and fun of it, but dang if Mrs. Ramos wasn't being too nice for Megan to be that mean.

"I haven't decided yet. And most likely with the hospital bills, my parents' careers, and my mediocre grades, I'll be at community college for the first two years anyway-not that there's anything wrong with community college." She couldn't help a bit of sarcasm at the end.

"That's exactly right. You can get a great education there; then you go on to a bigger school to finish out your degree."

"Exactly," Megan said as if really engaged. She looked at her black nail polish that was nearly rubbed off.

"I'd love you to be more involved during your last semester of senior year. We have a soph.o.m.ore who is doing some fund-raising and updates about your sister that you might be interested in helping out with."

Megan looked at her quizzically. "I'm not Ellie."

Was that it? Was the lack of Ellie making everyone draw nearer to her as Ellie's sister?

Mrs. Ramos appeared thrown off. "I know you aren't Ellie. We aren't trying to replace her, and we hope she'll be back in school by the time we return from winter break."

"I'm sure you do hope that."

"We miss your sister; there's no doubt about it. But you're a student here as well."

Thank you, Mrs. Ramos, I didn't know I was a student here. Adults could be so dumb sometimes.

"I just want you to know that I care, and I'm here if you need me."

Megan said good-bye and hurried out, nearly running into Will, who apparently had followed her into the office.

"What do you want?" she said in her most irritated, leave-me-the-heck-alone voice.

"I sent you a text last night." Will's voice didn't disguise his annoyance.

"Do you have any idea how many people text me now? It's ridiculous. I may change my number. And you know what? I wasn't in the mood to respond. Perhaps I should put up an hourly bulletin of Ellie's progress. Host a radio show."

"Calm down. Jealousy does not become you."

Megan gave him the death stare as her hands started to shake. She knew that was what people thought. They believed her jealousy over Ellie was what incited her rebellious att.i.tude. But part of it was simply their stupidity.

"Sorry, okay?" Will said. "I know you aren't jealous. I just want to know how she's doing." He looked genuinely worried. "Let's ditch the rest of the day and talk over coffee."

Megan glanced back at the office. Princ.i.p.al Ramos couldn't get too mad at her. After all, she was going through so much.

"Okay, let's go."

"I don't want to see them," Ellie said.

Vanessa, Bly, Tank, Kevin, several other friends, and Mrs. Ramos were just outside the curtain. They'd brought balloons and flowers, and they wanted to see her. They wanted to see the damage. Then they'd leave and share in shock at how horrifying she looked.

"But, sweetie, they're your friends, and your princ.i.p.al. They drove all the way down. They were here off and on all these many weeks. This place was packed with your friends and teachers the first few days. You should have seen it."

"Hey, Els!" came a guy's voice. "We miss you, girl. We're so glad you're doing better." And the curtain began to open.

Ellie threw up her arms. "No!"

Mom jumped up quickly and with her usual politeness asked the group behind the curtain to wait a few minutes. Maybe they'd like to wait in the hall?

"I don't want to see them. I don't want to see anyone." Ellie knew she was making it worse. None of them had ever seen her lose it. And she was losing it. "Go away!" she yelled and heard their whispers and shuffling of feet. Panic gripped her chest; she couldn't breathe. A machine started beeping, and Mom grabbed the call b.u.t.ton for help.

"Perhaps it's too soon for visitors," the nurse said to Mom.

Ellie was grateful for the support. Mom had tried convincing her, telling her how they didn't care what she looked like. It was always about being hospitable and making everyone else comfortable to Mom.

"They wanted to cheer her up," came Mom's pathetic response.

"And did they?" The nurse said nothing else as she adjusted the gauge on Ellie's finger that measured her oxygen saturation.

"Mom, I don't want you to let anyone in here."

"But, sweetie-"

"No one but you, Dad, and Megan."

"What about P Frank?"

"I guess him too."

"And Ryan? He's already been here a number of times."

"No, not Ryan."

"He'll be so hurt. He-"

Here it was, coming again, and the anxiety rose in her chest. "I said no!"

The hospital chaplain came by to see Ellie once in a while. He talked about G.o.d and His plans and her life. She nodded a time or two so that he'd leave and move on to other bitter, needy patients.