stammered.
'I'm afraid not, not with comas. I can keep an eye on his blood pressure, on the oxygenation of the blood, but there's no way of,' he paused, searching for the appropriate term, 'waking someone out of it. We just have to wait.'
She was almost afraid to ask. 'How long?' she finally managed.
He opened his hands outward, uncertainly. 'It could be hours, days, weeks . . . There's no real way of knowing . . .' His voice trailed off, his eyes conveying the rest. It obviously wasn't just a question of 'when.'
Tess nodded, grateful not to hear him verbalize the horrible possibility that had already entrenched itself firmly in her mind the instant she had walked into the room.
Chapter 81
Tess hovered between her room and Reilly's for the rest of the day, anxiously looking in on him and finding Eleni there each time. The nurse had kept on gently herding her back to her bed, reassuring her in broken English that Reilly would be fine.
She'd given the doctor and his wife a rather different version of the events that brought her and Reilly to the island, omitting any mention of why they were out here in the first place or of the Turkish gunship opening fire on them. She'd been careful to mention that there were other people on the dive boat, in case any of the others had been found, alive or otherwise, but Mavromaras had somberly informed her that, although some debris, presumably from their dive boat, had washed up on the island, he hadn't heard of any other survivors, or bodies, being found.
She'd used the phone to call Arizona, getting straight through to her aunt's house and finding Kim and Eileen there, worried at not having heard from her for several days. Their surprise at her telling them she was on a tiny Greek island was palpable even across the crackling, echoey phone line.
She'd been careful not to mention the name of the island, although she later wondered why she had bothered doing that before realizing she wasn't ready to face the outside world and its questions just yet. After hanging up, she thought she had done a reasonable job at calming their concerns over her safety, telling them she was just exploring an unexpected work opportunity in the area and would be in touch again soon.
Around sunset, two local women had appeared at the doctor's house and had been shown to Tess's room. Although they spoke little English, she eventually understood that they were the wives of some of the fishermen who had found her on the beach. They had brought her some clothes: a pair of cotton pants, a nightdress, a couple of white blouses, and a thick cotton cardigan into which she happily wrapped herself. They had also brought a large, piping-hot clay pot of giouvetsi with them, which Eleni explained was a lamb and rice pasta stew. Tess had dug into it gratefully, surprising herself by wolfing down a large plate with newfound appetite.
Later, a hot bath had worked wonders for her general stiffness, and Mavromaras had changed the dressing on her arm, the purple bruising from the rope looking to her as though it would be with her forever. Then, and despite her hosts' gentle objections, she'd spent most of the rest of the evening sitting at Reilly's bedside, although she'd found it hard to talk to him the way, she knew, some people did to loved ones who were also comatose. She had doubts about whether or not it would actually help him, and she wasn't sure if, given everything that had happened, hers was the voice he'd most want to hear. She blamed herself for what they'd been through, and, although there was so much she wanted to tell him, she wanted to say it when he was in a position to respond, favorably or not. She didn't want to force herself on him when he was, at best, a captive listener, and, at worst, not listening at all.
Close to midnight, she'd eventually succumbed to exhaustion, physical as much as emotional, and gone back to her room. She'd dropped off to sleep effortlessly, her head nestling between two musty pillows.
***
By the next morning, Tess felt strong enough to venture out of the house and walk off her stiffness.
The wind was still blowing, although the rain had petered out, and she felt a short walk would probably do her a lot of good.
She slipped into her clothes and looked in on Reilly. Eleni was there, as always, and was gently massaging his leg. Mavromaras soon appeared and examined him. Reilly's condition was stable, he told her, but not markedly improved. He explained that in these situations, any improvement wouldn't be gradual. It would happen more or less at once. Reilly would be unconscious one moment and, if he were to emerge from his coma, he would simply awaken without any physiological warning.
Mavromaras had to check on another patient across the island and said he'd be back in a couple of hours. Tess asked if she could walk him out to his car.
'The air ambulance service in Rodos called me this morning,' he told her, as they stepped outside the house. 'They should be able to fly in sometime tomorrow.'
Although Tess had been anxious earlier to get Sean to a proper hospital, she wasn't so sure anymore. 'I've been thinking about what you said. Do you really think we should take him there?'
A gracious smile crossed the doctor's face before he answered. 'Frankly, it's up to you. It's a very good hospital and I know the man in charge there, they'll look after him well, I can assure you.' The uncertainty must have been etched clearly all over her face, because he then added, 'We don't need to make any decisions now. Let's see how he is in the morning, and we can decide then.'
They walked across the street, skirting a couple of big puddles of water, and reached a slightly rusting old Peugeot. Mavromaras opened its door, which, Tess noticed, wasn't locked.
She glanced up and down the narrow street. Even in these overcast conditions, the town was breathtaking. Tier upon tier of neat, neoclassical houses painted in warm pastel colors straddled the steep hill all the way down to the small harbor below. Many of them had triangular pediments and red tile roofs and were of a pleasing, subde uniformity of style. Water spilled down overwhelmed gutters at the sides of the road and tumbled down the steep flight of steps cutting up the hill.
Overhead, the bruised sky still looked poised for another onslaught.
'That was one hell of a storm,' Tess observed.
Mavromaras eyed the clouds, nodding. 'It was far worse than anything anyone can recall, even the oldest people in town. And especially for this time of year ...'
Tess flashed back to the storm that had hit the Fa-Icon Temple all those years ago and, almost to herself, she murmured, 'An act of God.'
The doctor cocked a curious eyebrow, surprised by the comment. 'Maybe. But if you want to think in those terms, think of it more as a miracle.'
'A miracle?'
'Of course. A miracle that you and your friend were washed ashore on our island. It's a big sea out there. A little bit further north and you would have landed on the Turkish coast, which, in this area, is rocky and completely deserted. The towns are all on the other side of the peninsula. A bit further south and you would have missed the island entirely and been carried out into the Aegean and ...'
He raised his eyebrows and nodded knowingly, leaving the rest for her to fill in, then shrugged and threw his medical bag into the passenger seat. 'I have to go. I'll be back this afternoon.'
Tess didn't want him to leave just yet. There was something comforting about his presence. 'Isn't there anything I can do to help him?'
'Your friend is in good hands. My wife is an excellent nurse, and, although this isn't anything like the hospitals you're used to in America, trust me when I tell you we've had a lot of experience dealing with all kinds of injuries. Even on small islands like this, people do get hurt.' He paused, thought about it for a moment as he studied her, then added, 'Have you talked to him yet?'
Tess was taken aback by the question. 'Talked to him?'
'You should do that. Talk to him. Inspire him, give him strength.' His tone was almost fatherly and then he smiled, shaking his head slightiy. 'You must think you've fallen on some small-town witch doctor. I promise you that's not the case. Many studies by prominent physicians support the idea.
Just because he's in a coma, doesn't mean he can't hear. It just means he can't respond . . . yet.' He paused, his eyes beaming with hope and empathy. 'Talk to him . . . and pray for the best.'
Tess let out a small chuckle and looked away wistfully. 'I'm not very good at that.'
