Beside her sat Karen and David, their arms, hands, and fin-gers intertwined in a clutch of fear and support. Karen flinched the first few times the thick needle rammed into Valerie's chest. After the tenth time or so, she grew accustomed to the way the doctor would raise his arm, press the aspirator against her flesh, and shove hard with a quick, powerful motion.
David observed the others at their stations in front of the monitors. He watched for some evidence in their eyes that everything was all right or getting better. What he feared most was to see a look of alarm on one of them, followed by a flurry of activity. The vignette would play over and over in his mind until he knew for certain what it would look like and what it would portend.
They stood there, though, gazing at their equipment with steady eyes. Occasionally, one's lips would move, or another would turn to call out information. DuQuette and the resident nodded, muttered back instructions. Whenever the doctor had accumulated enough marrow, the resident transferred the sy-ringe to Renata's IV tube and pushed firmly. The tubing blushed pink and then deep red. Fletcher whispered to the Chandlers, 'They were finally able to get hold of some GM-CSF. That ought to speed her recovery this time around.'
'How long will this take?' David asked.
'Another ten minutes or so. Renata doesn't have room for much marrow. But she can use as much as we can give her.'
Karen tried to catch a glimpse of Renata. 'When will we know if it works?'
'It might be another two to four weeks for the new cells to start up. Or the cells already in her may get a boost and start producing right away. We won't know.' She put an arm around Karen. 'It's a waiting process more than anything else. We were able to stabilize her temperature for the transplant. I mean, they were.'
Renata was not her patient anymore. Sitting there behind a glass wall, unable to participate or even to hear, she could only use her knowledge of medicine to determine that all was going well. She used that knowledge to keep Karen and David informed. It was the best that she could do. It was something.
'
Valerie dreamt. Images raced past her. Or was she running past images of children? A lost legion of children staring mutely, captured in some halfway state between life and death. Crys-tallized, frozen in time.
The lines and ranks of them spread forever, their weight threatening to crush the earth. At the same time, Valerie felt that their tiny shoulders could support the world, their young arms could lift it to new heights. She couldn't decide which it was to be. She only knew that they could not stand immobile forever. And she couldn't run forever.
The crystals shattered with a multicolored electrical spiral of light. She awoke with a start, then closed her eyes groggily, trying to grasp the remains of the dream that had been wrenched from her by the opening of the door.
'Valerie?'
She opened her eyes again to see Dr. Fletcher standing over her. Behind her stood Dr. DuQuette.
'How's Renata?' Valerie asked. The effort caused her chest to ache with familiar pain. She withstood it, even welcomed it. If it helped Renata...
'She's stable,' Dr. DuQuette said. 'We won't know for a while.' Fletcher nodded, gazing into Valerie's eyes with warm af-fection.
'I've got to know she'll be all right,' Valerie said. 'I had such a strange dream.' Evelyn stroked her forehead with a gentle hand. 'You've done everything a mother could do for her daughter. Just rest.'
'Where's Ron?'
Fletcher's smile faded. She simply shrugged.
DuQuette's pager cricketed in the depths of his coat pocket. He shut it off and excused himself. Alone, the two women gazed at each other. Outside, the sound of birds and street noise drifted through closed win-dows.
'Is it Saturday?' Valerie asked.
Fletcher nodded.
'I can go to court on Monday?'
'Yes. If that's what you want to do.'
