Seer

Stefanie

It’s like a nightmare. Like a flashback to the night that my mom died. I’m here in the same waiting room, sitting on the same uncomfortable chairs, clutching Brad’s hand, feeling the same panic about a loved one who mysteriously won’t wake up. We went back briefly and saw Jonathan and talked to the doctor, before they wheeled him off to get an MRI. He was lying there completely still.

The doctor says that there is no apparent physical injury, so they need to get a scan of his head and neck to see if there is something injured inside. They don’t have any explanation yet for why he is unconscious.

When the school called to tell me he had fallen at the playground, and that an ambulance was taking him straight to the hospital, I had to call Brad at work. We both got here at the same time. I haven’t been able to stop crying the whole time. Tears are still streaming out of my eyes, but at least I’m not sobbing any more. My heart is clenched into a knot. Brad is silent and pale, his jaw rigid with anxiety.

Finally, the nurse calls us back. We hurry to the ER cubicle where Jonathan has been wheeled on his gurney. He is still lying completely motionless. I stand next to him, smoothing his hair back from his forehead.

After another eternity, the doctor comes in. “We’ve gotten the MRI scan results, and there does not appear to be any brain injury. There is also no visible injury to the spine. We’ve run some blood work and are waiting for those results. His heart rate and breathing are normal. I’m afraid that we have no answer to why he is unconscious.”

I start sobbing again. Brad tightens his arms around me.

The doctor continues, “We are going to admit him for observation. At this time there isn’t anything to do but monitor him. A nurse is going to come in to set up an i.v. glucose drip so that he remains hydrated. We’ll have our on-call pediatrician come to examine him as soon as we get him upstairs into a room. An infectious disease specialist will come by too, to ask some questions. Just wait here while we get a room assigned.”

This is terrifying. I’m glad there isn’t a brain or spine injury, but what is happening? Brad and I hold each other and wait.

Brenda’s

“Yes, my darling, your children are safe, Gabe’s injury is treatable, he will be feeling better soon. You are doing well to take care of the youngsters. Everything will be fine.”

As Brenda’s car approaches the urgent care facility, I am able to detect Jonathan in the nearby emergency room. He is still unconscious. The doctors have detected no physical explanation for this. There is still, bafflingly, no sign of Demon. Jonathan’s soul is quiescent, barely glowing. I report this information to our group. I hear Angel relaying the news to Natalie.

It takes some time to care for Gabe’s injury. The x-rays confirm the break to his tibia directly above the ankle, as Angel had described to Natalie. No surgery or other intervention is required, but the ankle must be kept motionless during healing. As Angel predicted, the doctor places a plaster cast on Gabe’s lower leg and foot. Pain medication is prescribed to keep Gabe comfortable during the first days of healing. Follow-up appointments are scheduled. The doctor and Brenda discuss whether Gabe will need a walking cast, but because there are only a few more days of school before the winter recess, Brenda decides that Gabe can just stay home to heal rather than return to school for the rest of the week.

Brenda keeps Ron constantly updated regarding each development through text messages. She assures him several times that he does not need to leave work, that everything is under control and Gabe is fine.

And I, of course, keep Angel updated, so that the Seer will be aware of everything as the situation unfolds.

A nurse brings a pair of crutches to Gabe, and gives him some instructions about how to use them. He is to avoid placing any weight on his foot for now.

Throughout the entire process, while Brenda is focused on Gabe’s well-being, Gabe is worried about Jonathan. He is so distracted by this worry that he barely registers the discussion about him taking the rest of the week off of school.

After some three hours have passed, Gabe is discharged to return home. As his mother guides him out the door of the urgent care facility, helping him to navigate the new reality of using crutches to walk, he hesitates.

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey? Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah, but I think that Jonathan is at the hospital next door. I’m pretty sure that’s where the ambulance was taking him.”

“Oh, I see.” She waits, to see what it is he wants to do.

He leans on his crutches, looking at the strange sight of his toes poking out of a cast, then looks up at her. “Could we, like, go over there? Try to find out how he is?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Don’t you want to go home and lie down?”

“No, Mom, all I can think about is Jonathan. I want to see my friend.” Tears well up in his eyes. Compassion for his anguish floods her heart.

“Yes, of course, we can go over. I don’t know if we’ll be able to find anything out, but we’ll try.”

Natalie’s

Natalie is paying no attention at all to the classroom instruction this morning. She is focused exclusively on the information that I am providing her about Gabe and Jonathan. How fortunate that they are being cared for in adjoining facilities, so that Lady and Aaron can monitor Jonathan’s situation as well. They also constantly scan the area, trying without success to find any sign of Jonathan’s Guardian.

There is more to relate regarding Gabe than Jonathan. I provide her with far more detail than I normally would about each aspect of Gabe’s treatment, to keep her mind occupied and calm, knowing that tangible steps are being taken to correct Gabe’s injury.

Her anxiety for Jonathan is fierce. But there is very little to report. All I can do is repeat the negative test results as they are conducted by the doctors. Jonathan’s unconscious state is not caused by any injury or illness that can be detected.

As the morning class concludes and the students are dismissed for lunch, Gabe’s treatment is finished. I tell Natalie “The doctor has finished Gabe’s treatment for today and has discharged him. However, rather than going straight home, your mother has agreed to take Gabe next door to the hospital to inquire about Jonathan’s status. They will not learn anything more than you know, but Gabe will feel better.”

As Natalie and Timothy sit at the table outside with their sack lunches, she repeats this information to him.

“Still no sign of Demon?” he asks.

“No,” she sighs. “Aaron and Lady keep looking for him, but it’s like he has vanished.”

He turns all of the information she has repeated to him over in his mind. The fact that Demon is missing, and that there is no explanation for Jonathan’s condition. “Doesn’t it have to be connected?” he asks. He is looking at Natalie, but his question is meant for me. “It can’t be a coincidence that Jonathan is unconscious for no reason right when his guardian goes missing.”

The boy must be correct. As he so often has, he penetrates to the heart of the matter. “I believe that Timothy is correct,” I tell Natalie. “There is no way to know for sure, but we know that humans must be accompanied by a Guardian. I agree that there is some correlation between the two events. Sadly, we still have no concept of where Demon has gone.”