Aphasiac

Chapter Thirty

South Sumter Park
Sumter, South Carolina
April 9, 2007

She was caught in the headlights like a frightened animal. Frozen. Unable to move. Like a bad dream. That familiar nightmare. It took her out before she had a chance to understand. Tires squealed and she succumbed to the darkness.

Nelson Residence

A loud thump roused Paula from a light sleep. It was only 10:00. She hadn't yet had time to fall into a deep sleep. Curious, she climbed out of bed and went to her daughter's room, thinking she might have fallen out of bed.

She opened the door to find Robyn on the floor, thrashing around as if in extreme pain, crying uncontrollably.

Paula went to her and held her. The convulsions lasted only a few short seconds and then her daughter went limp in her arms. Her eyes stared at nothing.

Paula shook her. Robyn's eyes slowly focused on her mother. She was crying. 'Mommy,' she signed.

Paula rocked her. "What happened, honey?" she asked, kissing her forehead, rocking her back and forth on the floor. A comforting mothers touch to ease the fear. Dishpan hands to smooth back disheveled hair.

Robyn looked like a frightened animal. 'It was a truck, she signed. It didn't stop. I couldn't move.' She held her arms out. Her mouth was open in a silent scream. 'Look at all the blood! Help me, mommy! I'm bleeding!'

Paula hushed her and rocked her. "Honey, there's no blood. It was just a bad dream."

Robyn wouldn't believe her, instead, staring at her in horror and pointing to her nightgown. 'There's blood on your nightgown now.'

"There's no blood, Robyn," Paula said. "Come on. Get back into bed."

She helped her trembling daughter off the floor. Robyn refused to get back in her bed. 'I need a shower. I can't sleep with blood all over me.' She left the room and shut the bathroom door behind her.

Paula slumped back on to the floor. She grabbed one of Robyn's pillows off the bed and hugged it to herself. Water ran in the bathroom. Robyn had decided to have a bath instead of a shower. Paula knew this problem was getting out of hand. She was nine years old, for goodness sake. A very grown-up nine year old. She should have out-grown this problem a long time ago.

Paula could smell mango as she passed the bathroom on her way to the kitchen but she didn't have the heart to remind Robyn that the good bubble bath wasn't for her to use.

***

The phone rang five times before the man answered. "'Ello?"

"Hello. Mr. Myllow?" Paula asked into the receiver.

"Doctor Myllow," he corrected.

"Of course. I'm sorry," Paula said. "I apologize for calling so late, doctor. I know your office is closed."

"We're never closed, my dear," he assured her. "What can I do for you?"

"It's my daughter," Paula told him. "Some strange things have been happening and I'd like to have someone look at her."

After she explained, the good doctor was more than willing.

Sutton's Supply (level PB)

Inside her head, Kari was screaming. She couldn't make it stop. Didn't particularly want to. There was some morbid comfort in a sound of terror repeating over and over like a scratched record in her brain. She slammed her palms against the side of her head, periodically mingling her own audible screams with those inside her head. Harold tried to comfort her but she pushed him away and curled into a fetal position in her daughter's room. Why was it always her child? Why was the tragedy always focused on her?