However, nothing worked. Mama continued to blink, to open and close her hand, but she didn't turn her head or smile. She did make what sounded like a small cry and that perked Ian's interest for a moment, but the sound stopped. I shook her hand and began to plead with her to wake up.
"That won't help, Jordan," Ian said. "We're just going to have to wait."
He hadn't yet touched Mama or kissed her, but now he approached the bed and did take her hand into his, looking down at it. That hand wasn't moving. He moved her fingers and then he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. I watched him closely, awed by his emotional expression. He brushed back Mama's hair and then took a deep breath.
"We're just going to have to wait," he said, this time more to himself than to me.
Suddenly, Mrs. Feinberg returned. Her steps and speed turned us both to look at her.
"Well now, young man. I just happened to get off the phone with your grandmother," she said, and I knew we were in very bad trouble.
I also knew that no one could move as quickly and as decisively as my grandmother Emma. Apparently, the moment she ended her conversation with the nurse, she had a talk with the hospital's security. Two uniformed men were outside in the hallway even before we learned what Grandmother Emma had told Mrs. Feinberg.
"You ran away from home this morning," Mrs. Feinberg said, and turned to Ian. "You took your seven-year-old sister to the city without permission, and you lied to me, young man. You said your grandmother sent you two in a limousine."
"She should have," Ian responded, undaunted. "You're not sixteen, either. You're just thirteen." "Chronological age isn't what's important," he said dryly. "It's mental age."
"Whatever, it's not right to lie and to sneak around, especially with a child this young."
"She's with me. She's fine," Ian said. The nurse couldn't get him to be repentant or even be slightly afraid.
"That's a great deal of responsibility to take at your age, especially without permission and especially with your family having so many troubles," Mrs. Feinberg insisted. "I have grandchildren not much older than you are and it would be troublesome to me."
"I don't believe it's any of your business," Ian said, finally showing some emotion. I knew how much he hated being thought of as a little boy or in any way irresponsible.
Mrs. Feinberg reacted instantly. He could have just as well stuck a pin in her. She drew to attention like a military officer, dropped any softness out of her face and eyes, and stepped up to him with her hands on her hips, her bosom out like the front of a bumper car in the amusement park. I thought she was actually going to knock him back with her breasts. Ian didn't flinch or retreat an inch.
"You will be escorted out of here by the hospital's security and taken to a room where you will sit and wait for your grandmother or her
representative to fetch you two, and you will not go anywhere else or tell anyone else any more lies, is that clear?"
She glanced at Mama.
"You should be ashamed of yourself, absolutely ashamed, coming here like this."
"Before you spoke with my grandmother," Ian said, his voice still firm, "you thought it was a very good idea for us to be here and talk to our mother. You know the value in that. I am not ashamed that we did this."
She turned a bit red. "Y ..yes, that is a good idea but only if it's done properly and everyone knows where you are, young man. You don't go off with your little sister like this. Now march yourselves out of here," she said when the two security men stepped up in the doorway.
I looked at Mama and then I squeezed her hand firmly. "Mama!" I cried. "Please wake up!"
Mrs. Feinberg put her arm around my shoulders and turned to me.
"Don't touch her," Ian said. He had
Grandmother Emma's snap in his voice.
Mrs. Feinberg glared at him.
"Get your hands off my sister," he said in an even sharper tone. She looked at the security guards, who now stepped into the room.
Ian reached for my hand and I took his quickly and pulled out of Mrs. Feinberg's grip. Then he looked back at Mama.
"We'll be back. Mother," he
said, and led me out of the room with the security guards right behind us and the other nurses and personnel in the corridor all stopping whatever they were doing to look our way.
The guards directed us down the corridor to a room that was usually reserved as a lounge for the nurses. They told us to sit and wait and not make any more trouble. They shut the door. I had to go to the bathroom and whispered it to Ian, who then rose. knocked on the door, and told the security guard. He made me wait until a nurse came back to the room to escort me.