Before I Wake Read Online Free PDF

smiling, to say, “Sheila cleared your calendar for the next couple of days. Tom’s going to argue for a postponement on Kitteridge. Bob Arnold was a little pissed, but everyone understands.” She shrugged. “Won’t be a problem.”
    As soon as the light changed, the cab squealed into motion, slamming into the right turn lane, passing the sedan we had been behind, jerking back in front of it. I lurched from side to side. “Jesus Christ,” I muttered, my voice rising as I found my balance. “What the hell are you doing?”
    â€œYou wanna shut up, pal, or should I drop you off right here?” He half-turned in his seat to face me.
    â€œJust watch your driving.”
    He pulled over to the curb and hit the brakes, jarring to a halt in a cloud of natural-gas exhaust.
    â€œYou wanna get the fuck—” He started as he turned to face me again. I lunged forward and punched him in the nose. There was a popping noise as the cartilage shattered and blood poured onto his shirt front in a gush.
    â€œWhat the fuck?” he sputtered, frantically holding his nose, spraying blood with every breath. “I’m gonna call a cop.”
    â€œGo ahead, Mr.”—I glanced at the license for his name—“Fredericks. Go ahead. You can explain your driving, your recklessness. They’ll probably take your license. Go ahead.” I opened the door and extended one leg to step out.
    â€œI’m gonna call my lawyer,” he called after me.
    Leaning in, I dropped a five-dollar bill on his seat along with one of my business cards. “Please do.”
    I slammed the door behind me.
    So I was walking to the hospital, where my daughter lay dying.
    Make no mistake—I knew what was going on. I knew how much the doctor was leaving out. “She could wake up anytime…it’s too early to tell…”
    Downtown was deserted except for the prostitutes, the street kids with their dogs and drums, the drug dealers and the junkies. The prostitutes stood brazenly at the curbsides in miniskirts and tank tops, or trench coats that flashed the nakedness underneath. I was subject to close study as I walked past, avoiding eye contact.
    The doctor hadn’t come out and said that Sherry was dying, that she would never wake up, that the damage was too great and there was nothing anyone could do. But I knew. For Karen’s sake, I was grateful for the dissembling. It gave her the time she needed, a chance to adjust, to accept, to say good-bye in her own way.
    Good-bye.
    Oh Christ, what sort of a world…what sort of a person…
    No.
    I choked back the rage I felt building, and the tears. I’d had my time for weakness. I still couldn’t believe that I had run to Mary, leaving Sherry in that bed, leaving Karen hurt—and hurting. That was enough self-pity and weakness for one night.
    The walk to the hospital passed in a blur. I steeled myself before walking through the emergency-room doors, checking my watch. 9 : 20. I prayed that Karen wouldn’t be too angry. That she wouldn’t ask too many questions.
    She was where I had left her all those hours before, leaning over the bed in a pool of harsh yellow light. She looked up as she heard me come into the room.
    â€œJamie was here,” she said.
    â€œJamie?”
    â€œFrom the paper? You remember.”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œWhere have you been?”
    I set my briefcase on the floor beside the bed. “At the office.” I leaned over the bed rail. “How is she?”
    â€œI tried calling.”
    â€œYou know how hard it is to get a call through once the switchboard closes. Did you try my cell?”
    â€œI needed you.” She was biting her lip, and I could see that she had been crying.
    â€œI know. I’m here now.”
    â€œDid you get everything done that you needed to?”
    â€œI think so. I might have to go in for a bit tomorrow, but it should be all