Chapter 7

Later that night the police came and asked me a few questions about the accident. Curiously they did not mention anything about the car; I kept it to myself. I just wanted my life to be normal again, and bringing up strange comments like that would only do the opposite. If someone was watching us he/she was doing an excellent job, and the police was no match for that. I needed to figure this out on my own, perhaps with the help from friends I could trust.

Darkness fell upon the lake. I drew back the curtains and turned on the TV just in time for some breaking news. When I finished reading the headline my heart skipped a beat before racing out of control. There had been a murder on 21st Street, the wealthy neighborhood near the University campus. Professor Siders was drowned in his own bathtub, alone. Signs of struggle suggested someone else was in the house, and presumably that same person killed Professor Siders. A puzzling lipstick message was left on the bathroom mirror: There won't be any visits to Professor Siders. Instinctively I reached into my pocket and immediately felt the sticky-note Siders gave me earlier that day. I must find that address.

Having absolutely nothing else to do for the rest of the night, I turned off the TV and got dressed. The simple clock radio on my bedside table read 8:58 PM. Overnight patients were located in the quiet Twin Ports Wing with little traffic from the hospital. 

Chapter 6

For the first time in history, Duluth had become the center of attention nation-wide: mysterious bombing destroyed three residential houses, leaving four university students and a faculty severely wounded. Police investigation of the remains revealed nothing but disappointment. No primary suspects were identified as well as a legit motive, and the conclusion so far led to terrorism. I sat up in my bed and watched reporters and analysts trying to make sense of the accident on Fox News when Professor Siders walked in.

‘Laura, we need to talk,’ Said the well-respected chemistry professor, ‘and this is not a safe place for it.’

I stared at the brilliant old man while my mind was spinning wildly searching for reasons why this man had come to me. Professor Siders, the famous physical chemist who devoted his life in educating generations of young scientists at the University of Minnesota Duluth, was standing right in front of my bed, his tall figure blocking the 20-inch TV hanging from the ceiling. Maybe he came to tell me that I didn’t have enough credits to graduate this year. My heart sank. That would be the worst news ever.

‘Professor Siders, I was certain I fulfilled all my criteria towards a bachelor’s degree in Biochemistry,’ I began, ‘my academic advisor had ensured my graduation in the Spring of 2009…’ Sadness had crossed his eyes when Siders raised his left hand. Suddenly I felt my worries were nowhere close to what he was about to say. ‘I’m sorry.’ I added embarrassedly.

‘Laura, here is my address. I’m counting on you to pay my house a visit. It is very important that you do so in private.’ Professor Siders reached into his front pocket on the familiar grey jacket he always wore to class, and handed me a yellow sticky-note with the neatest handwriting I had ever seen.

625 Under Superior Drive, BL

Well, there were quite a few things I did not comprehend at the time, and Siders weren’t doing a great job explaining them. I had no idea why I was obligated to a strange private visit to his house. And even if I had the slightest hunch of the purpose I would never find the house. There was no ‘Under Superior Drive’ in the vicinity of Duluth (it was safe to assume Professor Siders lived around Duluth) and most importantly ‘BL’ did not stand for any states or provinces in the US or Canada. This address either did not exist or referred to a very faraway place. Knowing the fact that old professors don’t generally go to hospitals and play pranks on students, my mind was set to the alternative: he might be serious, but this entire situation did not make sense.

‘Pardon me Professor; this visit does not make sense to me. I would love to help out but why am I doing this? Where in the world is six-’

‘Shhh!’ Siders interrupted me harshly and he even seemed a little bit annoyed, ‘Never say that address out loud. Not for now, at least. Oh look at the time! I think I should get back to work.’ He strode out of the door before doubled back and whispered, ‘but by all means Laura: keep the address a secret and please visit me. We need to talk.’

I wanted to shout ‘what time?’ after him but realized that the answer would probably confuse me even more. I carefully tucked away the sticky-note with the strange address and drank some water from the glass. What a bizarre way to start the day.

* * * * * * * * * *

By the time I checked out of St. Mary’s Hospital in the afternoon I had almost forgotten about my encounter with Professor Siders. I had visited Emily and Katie in their shared room. They were both deep in slumber and appeared shockingly lifeless as I walked in. My eyes blurred with tears when Emily's parents greeted me. This must be a hundred times harder for them than it was for me. We exchanged comforting words and I decided to leave them alone with their daughter.

The thunderstorm last night washed away all the gloom from the long winter of North Shore. Tiny streams formed along streets and raced down the hilly city into Lake Superior. Standing in front of St. Luke’s, I took a deep breath and my nostrils were filled with the scent of spring. The day was still young, so I strolled aimlessly in town. The insurance company had booked a hotel room for me to stay until my house, also destroyed in the explosion, was fixed up. I had clothes my parents brought me in a shopping bag, and that was all I possessed. Lap-top, cell phone, textbooks, furniture—everything I owned exploded and burned into ashes.

I was so distracted by the reality I had to face that I hardly noticed how beautifully the hotel room overlooked Lake Superior. There was a package left for me on the bed from my parents. I found tooth brushes, more clothes, shoes, notebooks, a new cell phone, a new lap-top, and some snacks in it. My eyes were wet again. I dialed my home number with the new cell phone.

‘Hello?’ My mom’s voice appeared at the other end.

‘Mom, thanks for the package…’ I could barely finish the sentence without weeping. ‘I miss you.’

There was silence between us for a while. I couldn’t remember the last time I cried in front of my parents, or mentioned how much I missed them. Life hadn’t been all that hard on me I guess--until now.

‘Laura,’ finally my mom spoke, her voice shaky, ‘I know it’s hard, losing your place to live and all that. It killed us to see you at the hospital yesterday. I would tell you to come home this weekend but,’ she cleared her throat, ‘things have changed here.’

I immediately sensed something wrong and became very alert. ‘What do you mean, mom?’

‘I hope this is just my paranoia.' She sighed. 'We kept getting blank postcards in the mail. At first I thought they were advertisement but every time the postcard arrives something awful happens. I think we are being watched.’

Goosebumps crept up my back as I listened to her. Watched. I remembered feeling that way shortly before the explosion—the phone call from a stranger! I was so overwhelmed that I completely forgot about the call, the car, and the blank postcard on the table…And what happened to that Honda Civic? If we could trace the car…

Chapter 5

The room seemed quite dark when I regained my consciousness. I kept my eyes closed; I was trying to remember the disastrous event. Emily's house exploded. Our car was hit and launched away by the enormous force exerted from the explosion. The airbags must have saved me. I took a deep breath in relief that I survived, and opened my eyes.

It was indeed dark in the room, and from the arrangement of furniture and the smell of chemicals I was sure I was in a hospital. It better be St. Luke’s— that was the only hospital on my health insurance coverage list. I groaned: how much money do I owe now, due to this accident? I let my mind wandered a little before my eyes adjusted to the dark. I was still very sleepy, and my limbs were as heavy as lead. I noticed in delight that my arms and legs weren’t heavily wrapped by plasters. I might go back to school in no time. Other thoughts began to emerge in my head, and suddenly I was exhausted again and fell asleep.

I was totally awake this time, and I already had some visitors around my bed, exchanging anxious comments under their breath. The sky seemed gloomy from the small piece of window I could observe, and I had no idea what time it was. I made a bigger movement to let my visitors know that I was ready for their sympathy now.

“Laura?” It was my mom, “Are you awake?”

“Uh-mm.” My throat was dry so that I didn’t want to say anything else, but apparently this made someone sitting beside me jumping straight up.

“How’ you feel?” My dad had a traveling pillow surrounding his neck and he didn’t bother to take it off when he lifted from the chair; from the dark circles around his eyes I bet sleeping in that wooden chair was nothing close to comfortable. But there was something else that troubled him, and I didn’t have the urge to ask.

“Err…I feel fine. Uhmm.” I said in a shaky voice, followed by a clearing of throat.

“She needs water. Get her some water!” My mom nudged my dad in the elbow, and he walked out unhappily with a frown.

“Is your head still dizzy? Can you see us?” My mom looked down at me, and I was pretty sure she had a few more gray shades in her hair. I felt awful; she shouldn’t be worrying about me. But I decided to play strong.

“Mom, I said I’m fine! Of course I can see you—you all look like I just came back from the land of the dead!” I sort of rolled my eyes.

The rest of the morning was monotonous. Visitors came in and out checking on my status, and showed sympathy in various degrees. After three hours of nodding and saying “I feel fine”, the nurse finally interfered and kicked everyone out. I suddenly had a tremendous respect toward this plumpish lady in the white uniform.

Now I was alone, the room seemed peaceful. The walls were white, with paintings of Lake Superior by local artists. Someone pulled the curtains back, so that I could see through the entire window. The nurse had removed all the tubes and needles this morning to give me more freedom. I carefully raised my arms and held them above my face: they felt strong and firm. In a weird sense, they were stronger. I sat up in a quick move and examined my body. My bones and muscles exhibited no pain at all; my skin was unscratched. I got off the narrow bed and rushed into my tiny private bathroom. In the oval-shaped mirror, my face was untouched and looked healthy. Uh. I thought I was sure that something was broken during the accident.

The digital alarm clock on the bedside table displayed 12:00, and my stomach was craving for some quality food. I slowly walked toward the door and turned the doorknob. People were talking outside my room, so I stopped and listened.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Mrs. Li. She is recovering at incredible rate!” That must be the respectful nurse, Cindy. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but,” After a pause she spoke in a more cautious voice, “Have you seen the condition of the other girls?”

It took me a while to figure out who she was referring to as “the other girls”. Then a shock struck the crown of my head: I was so occupied with my own recovery that I completely forgot about my friends! Of course they had been severely injured, too! I almost scared myself when I banged the door after me, and Cindy startled when she saw me striding out of the room. Her eyes were filled with surprise and...almost terror.

“You sure heal fast!” Cindy held her round face in her palms and gasped, “This is unbelievable. Three days ago you were broken into pieces…sorry” —my mom shot her an angry glance—“and you are completely healed and walking on your feet! I have to inform Dr Frederickson right now since he thought you needed another week of hospitalization… ”

“What happened to Emily? Katie? Mandy? Is Jenna alright?” I interrupted her rudely because I didn’t care what Dr Frederickson thinks, “Are they here, too? Can I see them?”

My mom and Cindy exchanged looks quickly. My heart sunk. “WHAT IS GOING ON?”

“You see,” Cindy went on with her nervous tone, “the accident was very, very bad…and it is a miracle that everyone in the car survived…” Then she stared away from me. “They are all here, but you can’t visit them now. Jenna is still in a coma. Katie broke both legs. Emily is getting a surgery tomorrow. And your professor Mandy,” she inhaled, “Mandy is a vegetable now.” Exhale.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dr Frederickson insisted me on staying in hospital for one more day, just in case. I didn’t argue with him; I was numb after Cindy told me Mandy lost her consciousness forever. My parents had to leave for San Francisco in the afternoon because I was no longer in danger and they loved their jobs. We had lunch at Grandma’s in Canal Park, which was not far away from St. Luke’s hospital (I was relieved that my insurance company was paying all my medical bills). My mom did a lot of talking: graduation, my plans for the summer, buying a car, and of course, the boyfriend. I mostly nodded and gazed outside half-mindedly. Lake Superior looked gray today, and with the furious wind nested in the stratus I could tell a storm was coming.

“Laura, are you listening to me?” My mom suddenly stopped babbling in her wheedling voice and leaned forward, “Are you tired?”

“Sorry, mom, I was distracted. I wonder if your flight will be delayed…there is a big storm coming.” I took a sip of my lemonade and looked into the dense clouds again. I could feel the current swirling madly behind the clusters of water droplets, waiting for the signal to be unleashed; once now and then a gust of wind would leak from the cracks in the woolpack, disturbing the horrible silence. Blood rushed through my capillaries and I got goose bumps.

“We will be fine.”My dad smiled warily. Both he and my mom were in their forties, but they looked nothing like mid-aged parents with a kid graduating from college. My dad was thin and tall, wearing a white cotton T-shirt with blue jeans. His muscles were still visible through the thick fabric, and his hair was naturally dark. Age had left trace of crease on his face, but his eyes were always flashing brilliance. On the other hand, my mom was petite and a bit chubby. Her skin wasn’t sullen at all; she still carried the childish look when she talked. This reminded me the reason I left home: they were such perfect human beings that my existence there seemed insignificant and unnecessary. It was foolish for me to think like that, but anyone who had close encounter with my parents would understand.

Lunch with my parents was overall pleasant. Grandma’s was no bizarre place; the dark dining hall was filled with tourists and families. My dad paid the bill, and the table was immediately wiped clean by our waitress. He watched the quick movement of the waitress in amusement and lifted his eyebrows. “Well, I guess it’s time for us to go.”

My stomach twisted a little at those words. I really enjoyed the last three days, even though I was unconscious most of the time. Mom and dad never visited me for that long, and I just started to feel comfortable around them. If I asked them to stay longer they probably would, but they had to leave at some point. Maybe it’s better this way, I persuaded myself.

* * * * * * * * * *

I skipped dinner and went to bed at 7:00pm. I couldn’t sleep at first because, embarrassed as I was, I missed my parents. They looked older than last time I saw them, and I realized that they were not getting any younger. I had only seen them on holidays, for a couple of hours at most. They were always busy back in San Francisco, and I was too damn stubborn to go home. My mom called me two hours ago to tell me they arrived at the San Francisco International Airport, and my tears dripped down my face like the rain outside.

But then the sadness slowly drained away, drowned by the raging thunderstorm under the orange street lights. I left the curtains open so I could see the golden round spots hitting my window. In the distance there was something moving in an elegant motion—I focused my eyes and saw an exotically beautiful butterfly. It was there, glowing in the mist, dancing in the storm, and none of the pinball-sized water drops seemed to whack it off the track. I blinked. And the butterfly was gone.