Jubilee's Journey (Wyattsville #2)(52)

“Yes.”

“Do you know what happened before Paul came to the hospital?”

“He got shot.”

“Being shot has caused him to not remember things, so he might not recognize you.”

“I know.”

“That doesn’t mean Paul doesn’t love you.”

“I know, Ethan already told me,” she said sadly. Although you would think it impossible for the boy to be any closer, he leaned his head over and whispered something in her ear.

Mahoney watched them through the review mirror. “If Paul doesn’t recognize you, are you going to get upset and cry?”

Instead of answering Jubilee turned and looked at Ethan Allen. He shook his head, then whispered in her ear a second time. She listened then said, “I’m not gonna cry. I’m gonna be patient and wait for him to get better.”

After answering, she turned back to Ethan Allen. He nodded and smiled.





They arrived at the hospital at seven-ten and went directly to the intensive care unit. The night supervisor, Leslie Storey, was still on duty. She eyed the foursome and said, “Only two of you can be in the room at one time.”

“No problem,” Olivia answered. “We can wait outside.” She nabbed Ethan Allen’s arm and wrested him to her side.

“Hey, I was gonna—”

Before Ethan could finish his thought Olivia said, “I know what you were gonna do, but forget about it. You’re staying here with me.”

Mahoney took Jubilee by the hand and walked into room 412.

Paul was lying partway up. Even though his hair was gone and his head swaddled in bandages, Jubilee recognized him the moment she came through the door. She darted across the room, flung her arms around him, and began chattering about how much she’d missed him. “You should have come back,” she scolded. “I was there a long time, and I got scared, and then this boy—”

Paul eventually turned his head so that he was face to face with her.

“Where’s Mama?” he asked.

Jubilee stopped talking and loosened her vise-like grip on him. “Why you asking me about Mama? Mama got buried a long time ago.”

“Mama’s dead?”

“Cut it out, Paul, that ain’t funny!”

Mahoney squatted down beside her. “Jubilee,” he whispered, “I don’t think Paul’s trying to be funny. I think he’s trying to remember, but he’s only got bits and pieces and your mama’s death might be a piece that’s missing.”

Jubilee turned and looked at Mahoney curiously. “Does he have the piece of who I am?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you go ahead and ask him?”

“Ask Paul if he knows me?”

Mahoney nodded, then stood and moved back several feet.

Jubilee couldn’t find the courage to ask that question right away, so she began with others, others that would lead up to what she really wanted to know.

“Do you remember Daddy got killed in the mine?”

Paul lowered his chin, said nothing, and shook his head.

Jubilee turned back to Mahoney. “He don’t remember Mama and Daddy died.”

Mahoney put his index finger to his mouth, shushed her, then with a nod and a slight movement of his right hand indicated she should continue.

When there was nothing more for Jubilee to hang on to, she finally asked, “Do you know who I am?”

Paul cringed as if he’d felt a sudden pain, then he looked at her and gave a very slight nod. “Jubie?”

“You remember!” she shouted and lunged at him again.

Paul’s face still wore a look of confusion. “You’re big?”

“I ain’t no bigger than I was,” she said. “It’s just Miss Olivia bought me these fancy dresses, and they make me look growed.”

Mahoney began to realize what was happening. Paul was remembering, but the present was gone. He remembered only the past.

“Paul, do you know what year this is?”

For a few moments it seemed as though he was thinking; then Paul shook his head.

“Do you remember taking the bus to Wyattsville?”

Thinking. Thinking. Finally another head shake.

Question followed question, and as he continued to nod or shake his head at things not remembered tears began sliding down Jubilee’s cheeks. Paul noticed. He stretched his arm out and curled her into it.

Mahoney listened as Jubilee reminded Paul how they’d walked down off the mountain and taken the Greyhound bus to Wyattsville. She explained how he’d told her to wait on the bench while he went inside to do a job.

At that point Mahoney interrupted. “Jubilee, did Paul say he was going to do a job or get a job?”

Jubie stretched her mouth into a straight line then crooked it to the right. “I’m not real sure on that,” she said, then turned to Paul and asked, “You remember which?”

He gave an apologetic shrug and shook his head.

Jubilee went on to remind Paul of the year their mama died and the awful time when the man from the mine came to tell them that Bartholomew had been killed in accident.

“Don’t you remember any of this stuff?” she asked.

Her brother responded with a lowered chin and a sad shake of his head. Once in a while some event or name would cause a flicker of memory to light his eyes, but for the most part those years were a blank. There were no memories to look back on, no sign of who he had been or what he had done.