The Last Hour (Thompson Sisters) by Sheehan-Miles, Charles (reading well .txt) 📕

“I love you, Carrie.”

And with that, he broke away from me, picked his bag off the floor, and threw it over his shoulder. Escorted by Coombs and Smalls, he walked to the door.

As they stepped out, I called out, “Major Smalls!”

She turned and looked back at me, and in as fierce a voice as I could muster, I said, “Keep him safe!”

She nodded, and then the door closed behind her.

Half-Cocked (Ray)

Someone at the hospital must have realized that Carrie, Jessica and Alex were moving back and forth between the operating and intensive care waiting rooms, because the social worker, Bilmes, had come to Carrie and suggested they all stay at the intensive care waiting area, and that the OR docs would just come there if there was an update.

So I found myself sitting in a chair next to Daniel, across the room from Carrie and her sisters. Before she ran off, Sarah helped Daniel find his family. But no one could see him, no one could talk to him, so she’d brought him back here, before she had her giant meltdown and ran off.

He was talking, without pause for breath or thought. “So anyway, we got off the bus, and Tyler tripped me, and I fell. He started to jump on me, but I got away.”

“So what happened after that?” I asked.

He shrugged. “He stopped bothering me for a little while. But sometimes he goes after the other guys on the bus.”

I grimaced and said, “Bullies suck.”

“I bet you never had to deal with bullies, you’re a giant.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “I haven’t always been. When I was your age, there were a couple guys who lived down the street who terrorized the whole neighborhood.”

“Mom always tells me I should tattle. But that’ll just make it worse.”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. Sometimes parents don’t get it. We banded together. Most of the kids in the neighborhood. Went everywhere in groups. It was kind of sad, really, but I made good friends at least. And yeah, about the time I was twelve or thirteen, I’d gotten so much bigger than those guys they never came near me again, so I kind of became ... I don’t know, a protector, I guess. For the other kids in the neighborhood.”

“I want to be big like you some day,” Daniel said.

I shrugged. “It’s not about the size of your body, kid. It’s about the size of your heart.”

I sighed and looked at my family, spread around the room.

Dylan was near us, leaning against a wall, and the tension was visible in his stance: his shoulders bunched tightly forward, his hands twisted into fists. Every couple of minutes his eyes darted up to the clock, as if willing it to move faster.

Carrie sat in a seat, with Alex on one side and Jessica on the other. Both of the younger sisters were slightly leaning toward her.

I pointed at her, and said, “That’s my wife, Carrie. And I look at her right now ... she’s all but falling apart, but she’s still taking care of her sisters. Holding their hands. Keeping them calm. That’s what I love about her.”

“She’s like seven feet tall,” he replied.

“Six-two,” I said, chuckling. “And yeah, she’s badass.”

He looked at me skeptically, and I said, “I know what I’m talking about. That woman there hunts mountain lions for science.”

His eyes grew big and round. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I’m serious.”

“Does she kill them?”

“Nah. She knocks them out, and tracks their movements with radios and stuff. I shouldn’t tell you this, but if you looked at her side, under her shirt?” I gestured to my own side to demonstrate. “She’s got scars from a mountain lion attack there.”

“That’s sick,” he said, grinning. Sick in this context meant cool or awesome. I think. Translating eight-year-old isn’t my best skill.

I heard heels clicking on the floor outside, and then Sarah walked through the door. She was dressed again, thank God.

“You okay?” I asked.

She gave me a dismissive look and said, “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

I felt my mouth turn up into a grin on the right side. “No reason.”

She snorted, then said, “Look at that,” nodding toward Carrie and the sisters. “It’s like we’re all actors. Every time, we fall into the same roles. Even now, Carrie’s the one who ought to be going to pieces, and she’s sitting there holding their hands.”

I nodded. “Maybe it gives her strength. Watching out for them.”

She raised one eyebrow. “You’re not as dumb as you look,” she replied. She looked at her sisters, her eyes going from Alexandra to Carrie to Jessica and back, then said, “I wonder what gives us strength.”

“What do you mean?” I asked

“What I mean is, even though I may be a little crazy ... I want to live, Ray. I want my life back. I want to play guitar and dive in a mosh pit and kiss a boy and hug my sisters.”

I stood up, walked over to her and folded her in a hug. Then I said, “Seems to me that to an extent all of you get strength from each other.”

“Sometimes,” she said, and she sniffed.

“Then go sit with them. Even if they can’t tell.”

She nodded against my shoulder, sniffed again, and said, “Maybe you’re right.” We broke off the hug, and she sat down in the chair, next to Alex. I took a breath, looking at them. Four sisters in a row, leaning on each other, loving each other.

What Sarah said was true. Even when Carrie’s life was falling apart, when everything she’d worked for her entire life was at risk, she’d been my strength. And now when she needed me the most, I couldn’t be there for her.

But then I felt a sharp stab of fear. Because for just a moment, Sarah looked ... not quite there. Almost as if she was blurred at the edges. It was surreal, and frightening, and it made