Off the Page Read online

  My heart is pounding so hard I can barely hear the woman’s response. “Okay, listen, I’m going to put you on hold for one second. I’m going to get an ambulance on its way to you, and then I’m going to come back and stay on the line with you until they get there.”

  I kneel down, afraid to touch Jessamyn, equally afraid to leave her alone. I wish Delilah were here; she would know what to do. I wish Edgar were here.

  I wish it were anyone but just me.

  “Sir, are you still there?” the woman says. “The ambulance is on its way. What’s your name?”

  “Oliver,” I answer, realizing too late that in my panic, I’ve given the wrong answer. “Edgar.”

  “Oliver Edgar, do you hear any sirens yet?”

  As if she has willed them, there is a wailing outside the door, and a firm, pounding knock. “They’re here.”

  “Go answer the door,” the woman tells me. “They’ll take care of your mom.”

  But isn’t that my job? Isn’t that what I promised Edgar I’d do?

  Within seconds, two uniformed men have Jessamyn lifted onto a rolling bed and wheeled it into the back of a tremendous van. “Can you follow us to the hospital in your car?” one of them asks.

  “I—I don’t know how to drive,” I stammer.

  “You can ride up front,” he says, and he hops into the rear with Jessamyn.

  There are flashing red lights as the van zooms and whines down back roads to a building I’ve never seen before: ST. BRIGID MEMORIAL HOSPITAL.

  The men rush Jessamyn, still strapped to the bed, into the building. I run behind them, but as they are about to go through a set of double doors, a woman dressed in blue pajamas pulls me aside. “Are you her son?”

  “Yes.” I try to see through the glass as Jessamyn grows farther and farther away.

  “You can’t go in there,” she tells me. “The doctors will help your mom. I’m going to bring you to the waiting room, and someone will come get you as soon as we know more about her condition.” She looks at me kindly. “Is there anyone you’d like me to call?”

  “Yes,” I say, without hesitation. “Delilah McPhee.”

  She holds on to me so tightly, our fingers twined together, that I can almost believe we’re one person joined at the hands. “I’ve never felt like this before,” I whisper. “Really, truly scared.”

  Delilah looks up at me. “She’s going to be okay, Oliver.”

  “But you can’t be sure,” I point out. “I thought never knowing what’s going to happen next was a good thing, but I guess that’s not always true.” I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. “I’m useless.”

  “Oliver—”

  “I mean it. I didn’t know what to do when I found her. I don’t know anything about doctors or hospitals. If she hadn’t woken up, what would have happened?”

  “You would have called me.”

  I look at her. “You can’t be there to clean up my messes every time,” I say. “Let’s be honest, Delilah, I’m not Edgar. It’s not going to be long before everyone finds that out.”

  The woman in pajamas—no, rather, they’re scrubs, or so Delilah informed me—comes back to the waiting room. “Your mom’s asking for you,” she says, smiling.

  Delilah squeezes my arm. “I told you so. I’ll be right here.”

  I follow the nurse down the bleached white hallway and enter a room on the right, hesitantly drawing back a pink curtain to reveal Jessamyn, looking small and pale, propped up against pillows. There is a bandage at her temple.

  “Mom,” I say, and she holds out her arms.

  I fall into them with relief. This is not my mother, but in this moment, she feels like it. “What happened?” I ask, my voice muffled against the spotted nightgown she is wearing.

  “I’m fine, Edgar. I fainted, that’s all, and I happened to hit my head on the way down.”

  “You fainted?” I say, seizing on the most important words of the sentence. “Why? Are you ill?”

  “I was so busy today I completely forgot to eat,” Jessamyn says, dismissing my concern. “Honestly, it was silly and stupid of me. I’m fine.”

  “So we can go home now?” I ask. After this day—with the message from the book, and Frump’s arrival, and Jessamyn’s injury—all I want is normal back.

  “Well, they have to keep me overnight,” she admits. “It’s protocol.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” I say. “I’ll skip school tomorrow.”

  “You’re not getting out of class that easily.” Jessamyn smiles. “It’s going to be incredibly boring. Doctors running tests and me watching endless Spanish soap operas. Although . . . how will you get home?”

  “Delilah’s in the waiting room,” I say. “She can drive me.”

  Her face relaxes as she sinks back against the pillows. “Do you think her mother would let you stay at her house tonight? I’d feel better knowing I don’t have to worry about you being alone.”

  “I guess.”

  Her eyes drift shut. “Good,” she sighs. “I love you, Edgar.”

  I lean down to kiss her cheek, but she is already asleep. “I’m sorry I’m not who you needed me to be,” I whisper, and I slip out of the room.

  I stand beside Delilah awkwardly as her mother hands me a stack of towels. “Thanks, Mrs. McPhee,” I say.

  “It’s not a problem, Edgar. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” She pauses. “And if there’s anything I can do for your mother, just let me know.”

  I nod, but I can’t imagine how Mrs. McPhee, who works all day long, would have any time to run errands.

  She’s set me up in the guest bedroom, which is three doors down from Delilah’s. I must admit, knowing that she’s going to be so close to me will make it terribly hard to sleep.

  “Good night,” Mrs. McPhee says, and as she starts to leave, Frump dashes between her legs and hops up on the narrow bed. “Humphrey!” she scolds. “Down!”

  “Oh, it’s all right,” I answer. “I wouldn’t mind some company tonight.”

  “Better the dog than my daughter,” Mrs. McPhee murmurs.

  “Mom!” Delilah cries.

  “Say good night, Delilah,” her mother replies. She waits with her arms crossed, and it’s perfectly clear that she’s going nowhere without Delilah. I must admit, I’m a bit offended. But then again, she doesn’t realize her daughter’s boyfriend is a prince who would never compromise his true love’s reputation.

  Delilah leans up and pecks my cheek. “Sleep tight,” she says, and she follows her mother out of the guest room.

  I strip down to my boxers and crawl beneath the covers. Frump sits up and cocks his head, and I scratch between his ears. “Some pair we are,” I sigh. “Lost in translation. Maybe instead of thinking of all the good that could come from escaping that fairy tale, we should have spent a bit of time considering the aftereffects. You can’t talk, and I can barely get through the day without messing something up.” My mind flashes back to an image of Jessamyn lying on the floor. “She was so still,” I whisper. “And there was so much blood. It’s different here. It’s a world of permanence. Consequences stick. You can’t just turn a page and have the sword wound heal. For heaven’s sake, Rapscullio falls nine stories in the climax and walks away without a scratch as soon as the book is closed. Here, cuts bleed and bodies break and there are no second chances.”

  Frump opens his mouth as if he is about to respond, but all that emerges is a whimper.

  “I promised Edgar I’d take care of Jessamyn for him. Clearly I’m doing a rotten job. Yet once I tell Edgar what happened to her, surely he’ll want to switch back. And that would break Delilah’s heart.”

  Frump puts his paw on my arm. For a moment, we just look at each other, and it doesn’t really matter that he can’t speak, because I know exactly what he would say if he could. Oliver, he’d tell me, tomorrow’s bound to be better.

  I flop back onto the pillows, crossing my arms behind my head. Frump curls into a don