Prom Night in Purgatory(7)

“Have a seat, Margaret…or should I call you Maggie?” Principal Bailey’s voice had softened, and Maggie was suddenly certain that the woman didn’t miss much. She nodded her head toward a chair not far from Johnny’s bed and pulled another from the wall, creating an intimate little half circle with the bed. Maggie looked down at her toes, wishing this episode of the Twilight Zone was over. She sat primly on the edge of the chair and folded her hands in her lap, locking her fingers tightly to keep them from shaking.

“Maggie would be fine,” Maggie replied belatedly, as Principal Bailey slid into the chair beside her. Maggie stole another look at Johnny, but his face looked carved in stone, his hands lying loosely on the blankets in front of him. What was going on?? Maggie suddenly wanted to shake him or pull at his rumpled hair, anything to shake the frozen look from his face.

“Johnny, this is Margaret O’Bannon – Maggie,” Principal Bailey said briskly. “She’s recovering from the fire as well. She’s a senior at Honeyville High School this year and a very accomplished dancer.” Maggie’s head started to spin. Why was Principal Bailey acting like it wasn’t one o’clock in the morning in a hospital room, like Maggie hadn’t been caught somewhere she had no logical reason to be, and acting like Johnny Kinross was a new student in need of someone to show him to his homeroom class?

“Maggie,” she continued, “This is Johnny – “

“I know who he is!” Maggie interrupted sharply, her eyes flashing to meet Jillian Bailey’s startled gaze. “You know that, don’t you? I know exactly who he is.” Maggie lifted her chin stubbornly and crossed her arms. Enough of this charade.

Johnny still wasn’t saying anything, but his eyes had narrowed and his hands now gripped the rails alongside his bed.

“So who am I?” He queried slowly. The hair on Maggie’s arms rose and a shudder ran through her. His voice taunted her with memories of sweet words and quiet declarations. She steeled herself and met his eyes, confusion coloring her voice.

“You are Johnny Kinross.”

“And how do we know each other……Margaret?” Maggie gasped sharply. Did he mean to be cruel? Or was he hesitant to reveal himself in front of the woman who watched them in fascination?

“Don’t you remember?” She stared at him, willing herself not to betray her devastation. He held her stare silently for several long breaths, and then shook his head once. No. He didn’t remember.

“Tell me!” His voice was sharp now, as hers had been minutes before. She stared at him mutely, stunned heat spreading from the pit of her belly to the tips of her fingers. How in the world do you tell someone what he is to you…when he is your whole world? How do you tell him you love him – and that he loved you – when he can’t seem to remember your name? Maggie was going to be sick. She struggled to her feet, the room spinning and the fear inside her clawing to get out.

“TELL ME!!!” Johnny roared suddenly, his face contorting in anger. Maggie flinched as if he had struck her, and she reached toward him instinctively, unsure of whether to ward him off or pull him close. Jillian Bailey jumped to her feet and grabbed Johnny’s hands. He pulled them from her viciously and looked at Maggie again. He pointed at her.

“You know me? You tell me everything you know!” He was no longer shouting, but his voice was emphatic and his eyes were bright with feeling. The finger he leveled at her shook, and he dropped his hands back into his lap, shaking his head with obvious despair.

The door flew open behind them, and all three of them jerked to guilty attention.

“What are you people doin’ in here? And what’s all the yellin’ about!!” A small black nurse flew into the room, shoes squeaking and arms akimbo. She rushed to Johnny’s bedside and started looking at his monitors and fussing over him like there had been a murder attempt.

“His heart is racing!! It’s the middle of the night, and ya’ll are havin’ a tea party in here?” She looked at Maggie, stuck out her lips, and furrowed her thin black brow. “And what do you think you’re doin’ in here, Missy? Visitin’ hours are way past…and you belong a few doors down, if memory serves!”

“Please,” Jillian Bailey jumped into the fray, “Maggie has been asking to see Johnny for days, and everyone has denied her. He saved her life when the school burned down. She wanted to say thank you and make sure he was okay, right Maggie?”

Maggie nodded emphatically, keeping her eyes averted from Johnny’s face. It was all she could do not to run shrieking from the room.

“I found her in here, but I didn’t have the heart to turn her away. I’ll take her back to her room myself in just a minute. Please, Tima?” Jillian Bailey was in full appeal mode now.

Tima harrumphed and shook her head, making the loops at her ears jangle cheerfully. “Five minutes…you hear, Jillian? And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doin’ when you start going all ‘Please Tima’ on me…” She winked at Jillian to take the punch out of her words and marched out of the room, tossing a hand toward the three of them as if to say “go ahead, I’m through with you.” The door swooshed closed behind her.

“Fatima and I were friends in high school,” Jillian explained inanely, although no explanation had been requested. Johnny was frozen in stony silence, and Maggie was clinging to her composure with shaking fingers. “I tutored her through English, and she tutored me through math. She never let anyone call her Tima, as far as I know….except me.” Jillian smirked a little, and for a minute Maggie saw the resemblance between Johnny and his sister. It was fleeting, but it was there in the way she held her mouth.