Part 15 (1/2)
”Clyde. Woo. Little Asian multimillionaire. Looks like Yoda.”
”Oh, Clyde.” She heard the head smack the guy gave. ”I'm retired, you know. I turned my clients over to my son.” He gave a name and number. ”Sorry to hear that Clyde's gone downhill.”
”It was, apparently, a rapid slide in that direction,” Lei said, jotting the number on her trusty spiral pad. ”I'll give your son a call. I'm looking for who his next of kin is, his heir. Someone to inform of what's going on with him.”
”Oh, I can tell you that. No one. He's a bitter old man. Had some cousins, but they're all estranged and live on the Mainland. My son never met him, but his office has the will. Clyde was leaving everything to the Honolulu Zoo.”
”Oh.” Lei digested that. ”Well, thanks.”
She hung up and decided not to call the lawyer son until the next morning. She was pa.s.sing by the nurse's station when the young woman waved her over. ”Mr. Woo's vitals are failing. Did you reach anyone?”
”No.”
”Well, you seem to care what happens to him. Perhaps you'd like to sit with him in his final hour?” For the first time, Lei really looked at her, noting a round, plain face animated by intelligent brown eyes. She must see so much death, and now she was calling Lei on her bl.u.s.ter a few minutes before.
”All right,” Lei found herself saying. ”No one should die alone.”
The nurse gestured. ”I'd tell you to get sterile, wear scrubs, and all that-but I don't think it's going to matter to Mr. Woo at this point. You know where his room is.”
Lei nodded and walked to the door of the room. She paused outside, did some relaxation breathing. Was she really going in to sit with a relative stranger, one she'd just tried to save, while he died?
She turned the k.n.o.b, pushed the door open. Went over to the small open area beside the bed, dragged a plastic chair over. She found herself breathing through her mouth because there was a smell in the room-that unique combination of decay and ammonia cleaner that seemed to inhabit every hospital to varying degrees. The nurse came to the doorway, pointed to the monitors.
”See that one? It's his heart.” The blipping line on the monitor seemed to be skipping at random intervals. ”He has arrhythmia, and notice the time between beats is getting further and further apart. This is his oxygenation monitor. The blood isn't getting oxygenated.” It was marked with a red line, and Mr. Woo's oxygen was well below it. ”Over here is his respiration monitor.” Lei could see another blipping light. It was also slowing down. ”It won't be long now. They say people go easier when someone's with them. You could hold his hand.” Those sharp, dark eyes were challenging. ”Someone should care.”
”I don't know why it has to be me,” Lei said miserably. ”Why don't you sit with him, hold his hand, and watch him die?”
”Because you're here for this one. I have others to see to who are going to make it.” She withdrew.
Lei winced at the woman's directness and sighed again. She steeled herself and picked up Mr. Woo's liver-spotted hand. His palm felt soft, silky. She had a sudden flash of memory: holding a pet mouse as a very young child. The texture of its coat, its trembling delicacy as it rested in her hand, were just like this.
”You're not alone,” Lei said, feeling self-conscious, awkward. ”I can't tell if you can hear me, but I'm hoping you can.” She looked at the monitors, and the heart one seemed to be stabilizing, beating a little more regularly.
”I tried to find your family and let them know you were here. You were right when you told me they weren't around, and I'm sorry about that. I understand why you tried to take your life today.” She looked down at the gnarled hand, smoothed the back of it gently. ”But no one should die alone.”
That hand tightened suddenly, and she looked up into Mr. Woo's open eyes. He was focusing on her, and he opened and closed his mouth. ”Water,” he whispered.
Lei thought of calling the nurse but decided to get him the water first. She poured from a nearby carafe into a waxed cup holding a sponge on a stick. Held the sponge to his lips. He sucked weakly.
”How are you feeling?” she asked.
He turned his head, and she took the sponge away.
”Like I'm dying,” he said, and one side of a smile pulled up his mouth. She remembered the nurse saying he had had strokes.
”Well, you aren't dying alone. I'm here.” She rubbed that silky palm. ”Just rest.”
”You came to ask me questions,” he whispered.
”I did. But they really don't matter now.”
”Yes, they do. I left DyingFriends.”
”Why? The site was such a comfort to you.”
”They wanted me to do something I didn't want to do.”
”What was that?” Lei fumbled for her phone. ”I need to record this. Can you say it again? What did they want you to do?”
”Help someone else die.” He pushed each word out past stiff lips. ”Take a picture and post it to the site. Then someone would help me die. I decided to just do it myself. I didn't need anyone's help.” He coughed, and Lei glanced worriedly at the monitors, all showing irregularities.
”We need your computer for the investigation. Can we have it?”
”Yes,” he said. His eyes closed then, and his chest lifted in a spasmodic breath, settled.
Lei leaned over to speak into his bat-like ear. ”It's okay, Mr. Woo. You're not alone, and you helped me and others by telling me. You're going to a better place. Just relax; take it easy.”
She didn't know that he was going to a better place. She didn't know what Mr. Woo believed, what he'd done in his life, where he would go in the next life. She just knew she hoped he'd be walking somewhere wonderful in his beautiful patterned robe. ”G.o.d, please give him peace.”
In the dim light of the room, accompanied by the random beeping of machines, she felt peace come, moving over Clyde Woo's struggling body like a warm blanket.
Lei continued to rub Woo's hand to let him know she was there. The beeps of the machines got further and further apart, and finally whole minutes went by without anything at all to break the silence.
The nurse came to the door. ”Well done.”
”He knew I was there. He woke up right before the end,” Lei said, blinking, reluctant to let go of Woo's hand.
”They often do.”
”Wish you'd told me that.”
”Well, they also often don't.” The nurse moved briskly around the bed, turning off the monitors, removing the blood pressure cuff, unclipping the IV cord. ”I've notified the doctor on call to p.r.o.nounce the death.”
”Well.” Lei stood, put her chair back in the corner, cleared her throat. ”I'm glad you made me sit with him.”
The nurse stopped, smiled, extended her hand. ”I didn't *make' you do anything. My name's Theresa. Theresa Rodrigues. You have a heart, and that's a good thing in a cop.”
”If you say so. Met this guy two days ago, and I'm the one at his deathbed. It pretty much sucks. Lei Texeira.” Lei took out her card, handed it to the nurse. ”You care too. Must be hard keeping that up, doing what you do.”
The nurse shook her head a little, pocketing the card. ”Compa.s.sion makes us human, but it does take a toll.”
”Mr. Woo was leaving his millions to the Honolulu Zoo. You ever been?” Lei felt the awkwardness of her overture, but Theresa's directness and pa.s.sion for her work intrigued her.