<< Go Back

Inheritance

By Colleen K. Snyder

Order Now!

MONDAY
Glass shattered. Metal screamed as it shredded into a thousand shards. Tires exploded from the force of being violently twisted and dragged along the gravel embankment. The chassis of the Beetle spun wildly, careening through the underbrush, gouging saplings, and finally coming to an abrupt halt at the foot of an unyielding oak tree. All the myriad pieces-parts found a resting place. And finally, silence. A strangled voice whispered brokenly, “Lord Jesus, help me. Please…” The voice trailed off, “Jeff…” In the distance, a siren wailed.
* * *
Buzzzz… Buzzzzz… Jeff Farrell looked at the caller ID on his phone but didn’t bother answering. He focused all his attention on his chess tutor, Trey Weller, who prepared his next move. Trey leaned forward in his wheelchair, looked at the chessboard from one side, from the other side, below eye level… The eccentric man had a thoroughness about all he did. Why he did it, Jeff didn’t know. But it always worked.
Jeff volunteered at the community center as a “bridge-building” venture for the fire station. A week after Jeff returned from his second job as janitor to Camp Grace in West Virginia, Trey had rolled into the center. Dark hair, fair complected, Trey was only two years younger than Jeff. He vaguely reminded Jeff of Collin, the love of his life and his intended forever wife. The eyes…something about the eyes. Jeff couldn’t quite define the resemblance. But he saw it. And while the man’s body may have been tied to his wheelchair, his mind proved sharper than most. Even if it did work in strange ways.
Trey talked to the pieces as he set the board. He made sure each piece knew where to stand. He also made sure the pieces knew the opposing team was the enemy, and it was the duty of the white team to eliminate the brown team. Nothing personal, just how the game is played. Only after he had spoken to each piece and scolded the opposition for daring to challenge his superiority did the game begin. Jeff didn’t know what all the run-up might be about, but in the two months Trey had been tutoring Jeff at the community center, Jeff had yet to win a game. Their weekly sessions, sometimes more often, typically ended in a lesson in humility for Jeff. But he learned. That’s what mattered. He learned.
Jeff’s phone buzzed again. He pulled it from his uniform pocket and glanced at it. Not the station. Fine. He ignored it.
Trey moved his bishop. “Check.”
The phone buzzed again. Jeff stared at the caller ID. His father this time. Dad would wait. “Show me.”
Trey looked at Jeff sideways. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“No. I’m on call for duty, so the only one I need to worry about is the station.” Buzz…
Trey seemed unconvinced. “Except for your lady friend.”
Jeff reminded him patiently, “Her name is Collin, Trey. And nope. Not even for her. I pay good money for these lessons, and I need all the minutes I can get. When the game is over, or the hour is up, I’ll check the phone.” The phone buzzed again. Dad again. Maybe…no. It could wait. It would have to.
Trey stared at Jeff a moment and shook his head. He looked back at the board. “I don’t know about you, Jeffery, my man.”
Jeff studied the board, studied the pieces, moved his queen, and smiled. “There. Now, what have you got?” Buzz… Buzz…
Trey reached across the board, moved a harmless-looking pawn. “Checkmate.”
Jeff groaned. “Right. Again. Score another one for the Master.” Jeff glanced at the phone. “We have time for one more round if you can beat me in five minutes. Or less.”
Buzz… Buzz… Buzz…
“I’d hope I’ve taught you better than to fall for the same trick twice. Not twice in the same day.”
Jeff shrugged. “No promises. Okay, I’ll check these messages, then I’ll take you home.” Jeff dialed his voicemail. His father’s voice came through level and even but filled with concern. Jeff listened to the message, his heart thumping hard in his chest. When the message finished, Jeff hung up, whispering, “Lord Jesus, help her.”
Trey’s face reflected immediate concern. “What’s wrong, Jeffery, my man?”
Jeff swallowed hard. “It’s…my dad. Collin wrecked her car.”
Trey’s voice trembled. “She’s okay, though, right? Right?”
Jeff struggled to get his voice under control. “They…uh…they’re still trying to cut her out of the wreck.” Jeff’s gut screamed he should leave. He should throw the red light on his jeep and race across town. Collin…the love of his life. He had to get there. Now. Now…there might not be a later…go now!
But Trey would have no way home. While the young tutor used MobiMobile to get to the center, getting home the same way proved less sure. There had been times Trey would have been sitting for hours had Jeff not insisted on taking him home. Jeff couldn’t leave him stranded, could he?
But Collin needs me. I need to be there for her. She could…
A calm assurance swept over him. You don’t think I can take care of her from here? Or can I only work if you’re right there beside her? The Lord’s rebuke, though gentle, remained firm.
Jeff ached against the truth he knew. God held Collin. Jeff chauffeured Trey. Period. No arguments.
It took extreme discipline to say, “I’ll take you home...”
Trey’s voice cracked. “No. No. I’ll get home by myself. You go.”
Jeff forced himself to remain calm. “No, Trey. I’ll take you home. I can’t do anything there any more than I can here.” Inwardly, Jeff poured out his anguish at the loss of time it would take. Critical time he could be at the crash scene…the hospital…holding her hand…
God held her hand, right? Whose hands would hold her safest? Whose hands could heal? Whose…
Trey interrupted Jeff’s thoughts. “Your God. The one you’re always telling me about. The one I don’t believe exists. You say he hears you. Talk to him. Now. I want to hear you.”
Surprised at the vehemence in Trey’s tone, Jeff said aloud what he prayed in his heart. “Lord God in Heaven”—Trey unexpectedly took Jeff’s hand—“be with Collin. You know how I feel about her…how much I love her…”
Jeff’s voice caught. He forced himself to continue. “But You love her more than I ever could. She belongs to You. I know Your will is perfect, Lord.” Jeff swallowed hard.
God wanted honesty. Honesty He would get. “I’m selfish. I want her here…” Jeff’s voice cracked again. He angrily brushed back the fear threatening to overwhelm him. “…here to marry, to grow old together. You said to tell You what’s on my heart. Let her live, Lord.”
He should have followed it with “Not my will, but Yours be done.” Except the Lord knew his heart. Jeff wanted to say it. Wanted to but couldn’t. Not yet.
So quietly Jeff almost didn’t hear, Trey mumbled, “Ditto what he said. Except wanting to marry her. That would be weird.”
“Amen.” Jeff looked at his friend and tutor. “God hears every prayer, Trey. Even from someone who isn’t sure He exists.”
Trey dropped his head slightly. “If you say so.” He looked up. “Will you call me and let me know how she is? Soon? As soon as you see her?”
Jeff nodded. “I will, Trey. I promise.”
“Take me home. And I’ll try talking to the God of yours for her.”
Jeff walked out beside the young man.
* * *
Collin Walker woke to the sound of a siren wailing mercilessly in her head. If she didn’t move…if she stayed still and didn’t even breathe, maybe it would stop. She exhaled slowly.
A voice called out, “She’s stopped breathing!” Strong hands pushed a mask against her face, forcing oxygen into her lungs. Brilliant idea. Got any better ones? She fought against the positive pressure of the ventilator in a vain attempt to keep her lungs from expanding against her possibly crushed ribs. The wailing continued. The throbbing in her brain kept time with the siren. Unable to fight pain on two fronts, Collin let the darkness take her.
“Pain? You don’t know pain! I’ll give you pain! No crying! Ever! You don’t cry! You want to be strong? To earn my love? Never cry. Never show emotion. You’re useless! You’re worthless. You soil everything you touch!” Collin’s darkness filled with memories. “Oh, you fell. You broke your foot? Get up! You’re not hurt. You pretend your hurt! Get up. Walk. I better not see you trying to limp. I know broken…you’re not broken. When I break you, you’re broken.”
“Smart mouth! Always with the smart mouth! Disrespect me? Think again. I’ll hit you all I want. And you will stand there, and you will take it. You got it? You won’t make a sound. You do, I’ll beat your brother as well. You love him? Prove it. Take the punishment you deserve. Take it all. Take it to spare your brother. But you won’t. You’re weak. You’re useless. Worthless.”
Collin moaned. The darkness continued, but the scene shifted. “This isn’t your rich, fancy home anymore. This is the streets, baby, and you get tough or die. You want to live? No? There’s the bridge. Seen a lot of jumpers in my time. Do it. Save the city the cost of burying you. Catfish in there big enough to eat a man whole.”
Pushing past the pain, she whispered, “Live. I want to live.”
“Get tough! Be tough. Be the toughest one out there. Don’t wait for them to come after you. You go challenge their toughest one, and you beat the snot out of him. Make sure you do it right. Make sure he doesn’t get back up. You’re either the best, or you’re dead. Got it? Never let them know you’re hurt. Never let them see you cry. Ever. Makes ’em think they can get to you. No pain. Never show pain. Got it? Never ever never…”
* * *
Consciousness returned. Someone tried moving Collin’s extremities. Any time an arm or leg or hand or foot or finger or toe moved, waves of pain cascaded through her body. She groaned inwardly. Collin opened her eyes and saw a female in scrubs attempting to be encouraging while checking Collin’s limbs. “Take it easy. You’ll be fine.”
Collin didn’t know the definition of “fine,” but it certainly didn’t feel like this. At least the wailing had stopped. Her head, however, continued to throb. She seethed, “Tell my brain.”
“The CT scan showed no cracks or breaks.” She paused. “No recent cracks or breaks. What sport did you play when you were younger?”
Collin wanted to fire off some quick-witted retort, but thinking hurt too much. “Basketball.”
“Ever consider taking up something less violent? Like, hockey? At least they wear helmets.”
Collin grunted. “I fell a lot. Clumsy child, they said. Can I get something for my head?”
The woman in scrubs entered notes on a computer. Collin couldn’t make out a name tag or embroidered identification. Of course, she could barely make out the person as human. “Which hospital am I at?”
“East. The ambulance brought you in.” The woman checked her records. “We’ll get you out of pain soon. We’re waiting on your medical records to be updated. We don’t want to give you something you might be allergic to.”
Collin closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “Collin Walker. Birthdate 1-21-um…twenty-six years ago. Height five-six. Weight one fifteen. No allergies. Multiple surgeries for various and sundry things. No next of kin.” Well… Collin added softly, “Almost a fiancé. He can be my emergency contact. Jeff Farrell. 614-555-0296. Are you a doctor?”
The woman nodded. “Doctor Roni.”
“How long have I been here?” Maybe talking would take her mind off the roaring headache. Re-direction. Alternative reality. Anything. Right? Right??
“Squad brought you in here about an hour ago.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s almost three.”
“A.M. or P.M?”
“Afternoon.”
Collin groaned. “I was on my way to work… How can it be so late?”
“The EMTs said they had a hard time cutting you out of the wreckage. From the pictures I saw, you’re in better shape than your car.”
Collin let it sink in. After a moment, she said softly, “Thank You, Lord. Thank You.” Collin attempted a deep breath. It hurt. A lot. “Beyond the ribs, is anything broken?” Maybe she should ask what had survived intact. Might be a shorter list. Collin winced as the pain in her head escalated. She closed her eyes and whispered, “Please, Lord.”
She heard Dr. Roni say, “Your records are here. We can give you morphine. I’ll write the order.”
“Thank you.” Collin took slow, controlled breaths, trying to keep the pain in check. But the roaring dragon in her head ignored her and launched itself to new heights. Darkness took her once again.
* * *
Jeff counted to ten, counted again—and again. When he felt he could speak without owing anyone an apology, he addressed the unfamiliar emergency room registrar. “As I told you before, she has no blood family around here. She had her phone and all the contact information in the car. The paramedics couldn’t salvage enough of her car to find a phone.” Salvaging Collin had been a miracle in itself. One for which Jeff continued to be thankful. Even as he fought the privacy system. “Collin and I are going to be engaged in two months.” Jeff indicated to his father and mother sitting on the bench next to the wall. “We’re the closest thing to a family she has right now. So please, if you won’t let any of us go in to see her, at least let us know how she is. Is she even alive?” He felt the anger and frustration building again. Maybe he should count to ten in Cantonese. Especially since he didn’t know Cantonese.
Dad placed a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “Jeffery, go sit with your mother. I’ll see if I can do anything. Go.” Jeff nodded silently, turned, and walked to his mother. His mom patted the chair beside her cheerfully. “Here, Jeffery. Sit by me. I’m sure Collin is fine, dear. She’ll be walking out of the ER any time now. And we can all go home and have dinner like we planned. She is coming over tonight, isn’t she? I thought I remembered you said so. And Leesa is looking forward to her coming over. Your sister loves Collin. We all do. I’ll never understand why you haven’t asked her to marry you yet. You’ll be the sweetest couple, I know.”
Jeff let his mother prattle. In times like this, he missed the “old Mom”—the Lacey who had been before the stroke took her personality and fire. The “old Mom” would have busted in the doors and demanded answers. In the years since his mother’s stroke, her personality had morphed to “positivity only.” Jeff prayed silently, Lord, I love my mom. But could You restore her mind? Bring back the old Mom? Please?
The door to the ER bay opened, and to Jeff’s ever-mounting frustration, another new staff member came out. Where were all the people who knew him on sight? The normal crew. Normal might be a poor choice of words. Maybe usual. Never normal.
The staff member ignored Jeff and his people, going straight to the registrar. The scrubs-clothed man handed the woman behind the desk a notecard. “We’ve got some preliminary identification on the Jane Doe the EMTs brought in an hour ago. I have her emergency contact number. Call it and see if there is a Jeff Farrell there. Ask him if he knows Collin Walker.” He turned to go back to the bay.
Jeff jumped from his chair and all but tackled the man. “Wait! I’m Jeff Farrell. Is Collin alive?”
The man looked at Jeff’s uniform with suspicion. “How did you get here when we haven’t notified you yet?”
“I’m a paramedic at Station Five. The crew which took the call is…” Jeff swallowed his anger at being questioned. “The guys all know Collin and I are…together.” Jeff repeated his question, “Is she alive?”
The man continued to look at Jeff up and down. “Show me some ID.” Jeff pulled out both his driver’s license and his paramedic ID. The nurse looked at it, looked at Jeff, said, “Yes. She’s alive.” Relief flooded through Jeff, and his knees went weak. He barely heard the man say, “Doctor Roni is checking her out. I’ll inform her Ms. Walker has someone out here waiting.”
Jeff closed his eyes and prayed out loud, “Thank You, God. Thank You. Thank You.” Nothing else came.
His father came alongside him, placed his hand on his shoulder, and joined Jeff. “Thank You, Father, for the way You take care of Your children. Thank You for Your mercy. Give us the strength we need for whatever You have next for us. But thank You for giving us this glimpse of hope. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.”
Mom looked up from the magazine she’d been thumbing through. “Did I hear Collin is alright? I told you, Jeffery, you didn’t need to be upset. She’s fine, dear. You worry so much. I know you love her, but you can’t let these little things bother you.” The woman looked back at her magazine. She looked at Jeff, a quizzical look in her eyes. She cocked her head a moment as if she sought to remember something. A light of recognition, of depth, of clarity flashed on his mom’s face. But it only lasted a moment. Then the light faded. Lacey shrugged and went back to her magazine.
Jeff bent over and kissed his mother. “You’re right, Mom. Thank you. I’ll try.” Jeff turned to his father. Father and son embraced in relief.
Another hour passed before Dr. Roni came out to talk to the family. She introduced herself and leaned against the wall. “Your friend is a very lucky woman.”
Jeff nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been told. How is she?”
“She has four cracked ribs. No other broken bones, no internal injuries beyond the bruising you might expect from a less serious crash.” The doctor eyed him and asked, “Have you known her long? Do you know any of her history?”
Three months, two days, thirty-six hours… Jeff dissembled slightly, “Awhile. And some of it. Why?”
“Her skull shows a pattern of fractures we don’t see except in children who have had…let’s say, multiple blunt force traumas to their head. She also has a surprising number of previous breaks in her extremities she says happened in childhood. Some broken more than once.”
Jeff let the information rattle around his head. He would need time to properly digest all it might mean, but it did explain some of Collin’s quirks. And intensity. Maybe a few other things Jeff had seen in her behavior. He nodded slightly. “Thank you, Dr. Roni. I appreciate all you’ve done for her. When can we see her?”
“We will keep her at least overnight so we can check on her and make sure there’s nothing we missed or nothing develops later. Until she’s in a room, I can only allow one person at a time in there.”
His dad said softly, “I’ll take your mother home, Jeffery. Spend as much time as you need with Collin. Give her our love and prayers.” The elder Farrell turned to his wife. “Let’s go home, Lacey, my love. Jeffery will let us know how Collin is later.”
“Oh, she’s not coming home now? Is she not coming to dinner tonight?”
“No, dear, and I’ll explain on the way to the house.”
The “almost there” look returned to Lacey’s face. But the moment and the memory passed, and she shrugged it off. “Well, if you say so. Kiss her for us, Jeffery, and tell her how disappointed Leesa will be not to see her.”
“I will, Mom.” Jeff kissed his mother lightly on the cheek, hugged his father one last time, and followed Dr. Roni into the empty ER bay.
His first sight of Collin brought flashbacks of multiple car crashes he had worked. Crashes where no one survived. Or survived, but barely. Her face had bruised almost beyond recognition: torn and puffy and red and still covered in dried blood. But her eyes were as bright and sharp as they had ever been, albeit swollen almost shut. He approached the bed carefully, feeling the raw emotion of the day threatening to overwhelm him once again. He bent over and very, very gingerly kissed Collin on top of her head. “I love you, lady.”
Collin looked at him. “Your aim is lousy.”
Jeff ignored the comment and hugged her as carefully as he could, trying to find someplace he wouldn’t hurt her. “There are so many people praying for you right now. You don’t have any idea.”
Collin said, her voice unsteady, “I think I do. Doctor Roni tells me I shouldn’t be here.” She swallowed hard. “I told her I shouldn’t be here, either. I should be home watching football. Or basketball. Or anything other than the heart monitor.”
Dr. Roni shook her head. “No, and no. With your injuries, we’re keeping you for twenty-four hours, minimum.”
“If I promise I won’t sue? I’ll find someone’s first-born male child to give you.” She tried to smile at Jeff and added, “He doesn’t qualify.”
“Give it up, lady.” Jeff squeezed her hand gently. “Let the doctors do what they do. Let your body catch up to itself. Your brain may be all in one piece, but I’m sure other parts will protest by tomorrow.”
“Oh, they’re protesting now. I’m not listening.” Collin paused. “Much.”
Jeff knew even the smallest of admission she could be in pain equaled most other people’s screaming. They had yet to have the heart-to-heart discussion—the one where she shared why she refused to admit pain. Or ask for help. Or admit defeat.
The two had met at Camp Grace, an extreme sports challenge camp in the mountains of West Virginia. Collin had been there with forty-some other campers and counselors to give the inner-city children a chance to see life from a different perspective. Jeff worked at the camp as the janitor. Their paths crossed over and over—and over and over—until they struck a friendship, which became more. She had shared a little—very little—about her past. How her mother had died when she was five. How her father abused her. She had a twin brother who died at fourteen, playing football. She had accepted the Lord after a street preacher took her in. All bare-bone facts, but not the whos and hows and whys. With conflicting work schedules, finding the time for the conversation had been hard. But it needed to happen. And soon.
Jeff pulled out of the memories. “Take the meds they offer you, let your body adjust and heal, and stay safe. Okay? This one time, do it their way.”
“This time. On one condition.”
“What?”
“You go home after they get me in a room of my own. I don’t need you hanging around this place, ogling the nurses.” Collin looked at Dr. Roni. “Or the doctors.”
Jeff smiled. “No ogling. I only have eyes for…”
Collin groaned. “Do not sing. I know you can. But don’t.”
Jeff nodded. “Yes, ma’am. No singing.” He dropped the military bearing. “I love you, milady.”
Collin sank back in the bed. “I love you, Jeff.” She closed her eyes and whispered, “One month, twenty-eight days, and I have no clue how many hours.” She opened her eyes and warned, “No, I do not want to know, either.”
Jeff stroked her brow. “Sleep, Collin. Sleep and rest and let yourself heal. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Collin closed her eyes again. Jeff kissed the top of her head tenderly.
Without opening her eyes, Collin whispered, “Aim.” Jeff kissed her lips even more gently. She whispered, “G’nite.”
Jeff straightened, looked to Dr. Roni. “When will they move her to a room?”
“Probably in the next hour or so. We weren’t sure if we needed a bed for her in ICU or not. Apparently not.” She motioned to the chair beside the bed. “You can stay with her. I gave her a dose of morphine about an hour ago, so she should sleep. We’ll be in and out—”
Jeff interrupted her. “It’s a hospital. I know the drill. Thank you for all you’ve done for Collin, Doctor. You ER doctors are miracle workers.”
Dr. Roni accepted the praise. “Thank you.” She turned and left the room.
Jeff settled back with a deep sigh. He squeezed Collin’s hand and whispered, “I love you.”
A thought popped in his head: Trey. He needed to call Trey. As he saw no “No Cell Phones Allowed” signs around, he pulled out his phone and punched in the number.
Trey answered it before the first ring finished. “Is she alive?”
“Yes, she is. And the only things broken are some ribs. She’s going to be fine. The doctors can’t explain it other than to say she’s lucky.”
The silence on the other end of the connection told Jeff plenty. Jeff could hear Trey muttering. Finally, the younger man said, “But you can. Right?” It sounded like a challenge. Or a plea.
“God spared her life. He’s got work for her here, and so He protected her.”
Trey sounded bitter. “So, she’s a tool to be used. Otherwise, He lets her die? How is that loving?”
Jeff interrupted quickly. “No. Not like a tool. Next time we get together, I’ll try to explain it. If I get caught talking on the phone in here, they might throw me out.”
Trey sounded curious. “Where are you?”
“In the ER bay, sitting with Collin. She’s asleep, and we’re waiting for them to get a room ready.”
The younger man’s voice grew incredulous. “You’re in the ER, and you’re calling me? You’re with her, and you’re talking to me? What is wrong with you? Are you insane?”
“I’m not insane. I promised I’d call as soon as I found out anything. I didn’t want you hanging on waiting longer than you had to.”
Again, mutters punctuated the silence. “I don’t know about you, Jeffery, my man. I don’t. But thanks. Thanks for letting me know. Give your lady friend a…um…tell her I’m glad she’s not dead. It won’t matter to her but tell her anyhow.”
“I’ll tell her. She wants to meet you when you can get free for lunch or dinner or something. You keep canceling on us.”
“I know. I know. I told you my schedule changes from hour to hour. We’ll get together, I promise. Hang up and pay attention to your lady friend.”
“Collin, Trey. Her name is Collin.” The call dropped. Jeff slipped his phone into his pocket. As no monitors or alarms had gone off, he figured the transgression would go unnoticed this time. He said softly, “I’m sorry. I should have gone outside, I know. Next time.” Jeff settled back again and began praying silently for anyone he knew. It would be a long list.

Order Now!

<< Go Back