Submerged Read Free Page A

and illness and worried
family members no longer affected him. “Patient’s name.”
    “Henry Sachs. He would have arrived within
the last twenty minutes—”
    “One moment, please.” The young man turned to
his computer and fingered a few keystrokes. A second later he shook
his head. “I don’t show him in the computer.”
    “Not here?” Had he heard his mother wrong?
Had the ambulance not arrived yet? That didn’t seem possible. “That
can’t be. Henry Sachs—S-A-C-H-S.”
    “He’s not in the computer.”
    Perry noticed the man was chewing gum. For
some reason that irritated him.
    “Are you sure you have the right hospital?
Sometimes when people panic they get confused.”
    “Panic?” Perry resisted the urge to tell the
pup that in the last year and a half he had been lowered through
two miles of Antarctic ice and left afloat in an under-ice lake or
that a year ago he had almost been buried alive in the Tehachapi
mountains of California. There had been no panic then, and there
was none now. Perry leaned closer to the opening in the glass
window. “Perhaps you’re too young or inexperienced to distinguish
between a panicked man and determined one. Your computer is wrong,
so I would like to suggest that you haul your skinny fanny out of
that squeaky chair and walk back to the ER and check for yourself.
And when you find my father, you will tell his doctors that Henry
Sachs’s family is in the waiting room.”
    The man stopped chewing. Anger flared in the
male nurse’s eye but evaporated a second later. Without a word, he
rose and left the security of the cubicle.
    An eternity of seconds chugged by before the
nurse returned. His attitude had softened, and some of the color
had drained from his face. He cleared his throat. “A nurse was just
posting your father’s admittance into the computer. That’s why I
couldn’t find him. I, um, I told the doctors you were here. I can’t
let you back there. It’s against hospital policy, but the doctor
said he would be out to talk to you just as soon as he can.”
    Perry had expected this. There was nothing to
do now but wait and pray. He was used to doing both. He started to
turn away but stopped. “We okay?”
    “Yeah,” the young man said. “We’re okay. I
had it coming.” It was clear he was upset.
    Perry nodded. “Thank you.” He then moved to
the corner formed where corridor met lobby and leaned against the
wall. He crossed his arms and bowed his head, pushing back emotions
that threatened to burst free with Krakatoan intensity. Minutes
oozed by at glacial speeds. Seconds seemed like hours and minutes
like days. Perry tried to lose himself in prayer for his father,
but intercession was crowded out by memories of Little League games
with his father in the stands telling him to choke up on the bat;
of birthday parties; of trips taken overseas while he was still a
boy; of hearing his father tell him that hard work built character
as well as muscles.
    Did recollections count as prayer? He hoped
so.
    “Perry?”
    He glanced up and saw the normally smiling
face of Jack drawn tight with concern. Next to him was Perry’s
mother. Jack had his big arm around her shoulders. His eyes met
hers, and silent words were uttered through their gaze.
    Anna Sachs was a stout woman with dark hair
that gray had avoided and blue eyes that could dance the tango when
joy filled her heart. Today her eyes didn’t dance. Instead, they
radiated fear like an oven pours out heat. “Oh, Perry.”
    She stepped to him, and he took her in his
arms. He said nothing. Their communication was beyond the scope of
words. They spoke the language of souls. Anna—as strong a woman as
Perry had ever met—crumbled into tears, and her tears became sobs.
Perry could feel her shaking in his arms. A moment later he was
holding her up.
    He needed to be strong for her, needed to be
her pillar of support, but his own foundation was cracking. He
closed his eyes and lowered his head until his