Chapter 3

    Johnny’s phone blared at his bedside, rousing him from sleep after only a few hours. Having worked nearly forty-eight hours straight, before finally being allowed to sleep, this was not the way he had planned his weekend to start. Cursing to himself, he picked up the phone and growled “What!?”

    The voice on the other end of the line was hesitant, slightly raspy, and female. “Mr. Terrence? Am I speaking to John Terrence?” She asked, almost as if she were hoping she wasn’t. And after the way Johnny had answered the phone, he could understand why she might wish that.

    “Yeah. Sorry for the attitude, you woke me up out of a deep sleep.” He explained lamely, hoping whoever this was could understand “Who’s speaking please?”

    “Mr. Terrence, my name is Samantha Bowman, I’m a social worker with Child Protective Services,” The lady explained carefully, “I’m calling from St Bartholomew's Hospital. It’s about your niece Sara Terrence.”

    Whatever the lady on the phone said next was lost on Johnny, as the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Had that lousy c*nt finally stepped over the line with Sara? Why was she calling from a hospital? What the fuck was going on? All these questions, and a sense of dread like he had never experienced before, caved in on top of him, the instant she had said Sara’s name. 

    “What happened?” he demanded quickly, as he fumbled around in the dark for his clothes. “What did my sister do to Sara?”

“Mr. Terrence, it would be best if we could have a face to face talk about your niece. How quickly can you be at the hospital?” She asked, sounding as if time might not be on Johnny’s side.

    “Miss Bowman was it?” Johnny asked shortly, and she answered in the affirmative, “I’m a commercial welder, I’m on a contract on the pipeline up here in Alaska! I don’t know how quickly I can get back there, but you can be damn sure I’m on the next available flight!” he said as he jammed his feet into his work boots. “Now tell me what the hell happened to Sara!”

    “Mr. Terrence, I’m sorry, I don’t know how to say this sir ... But Sara is in a coma in the pediatric care wing. It seems her mother tried to beat her to death in their yard early this morning ... Mr. Terrence? Are you still there?” She asked into the silence on the other end of the line.

    “What? Yeah. Yeah I’m still here,” Johnny mumbled, as tears began to slide down his cheeks, his niece was in a coma, and here he sat, on the other side of the continent, unable to be there for her. 

    His heart dropped, as he realized he might never get to see the loving, innocent smile on Sara’s face again. He had to get there. And he had to get there fast! “Look, Miss Bowman, I’m gonna be there as fast as I can. Just have someone take care of Sara until I get there ok? Make sure if she wakes up, that she knows Uncle Johnny is coming!” And with that he hung up and dashed out of his camper in the yard of the crew camp running toward the foreman’s trailer as fast as his legs could carry him.

    It actually took surprisingly little effort to be given home leave after explaining the situation. A jeep took him from camp into town, some little village with no real name, that didn’t even appear on maps. But Johnny had to wait almost a full day for a bush pilot to pick him up. 

    Every minute of the wait was an agony for him, knowing his niece needed him, and that he was powerless to do anything for her. Finally after nearly two days of waiting and cramped traveling, Johnny’s plane was taking off from Anchorage, taking him home for the first time in nearly a year.

    It took Johnny nearly thirteen hours, and several transfers to make it home. And when he did, his body was so exhausted he could barely stand. 

    He had called the social worker Miss Bowman from Denver to let her know when he was due to land, and to inquire about Sara. Only to be told her condition was unchanged. By the time he arrived at St Bartholomew's hospital, visiting hours were nearly over, but Johnny demanded to see his niece before he left.

    Miss Bowman escorted him to Sara’s room, quietly bracing him for what he was about to see, she wouldn’t go into detail about the extent of her injuries, but she did warn him they were severe. 

    Finally they stopped by a large picture window, and Johnny couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The pretty innocent face of his niece, which had always managed to smile whenever Johnny was around, was mangled, nearly beyond recognition. 

    The right eye was swollen shut so badly, Johnny couldn’t even tell if she still had it, the broken cheek bone and jaw were so puffy that they distorted the entire contour of her face. Sara’s head was bandaged above her left ear with the hair shaved down, showing mute testimony of having needed many stitches at the very least.

    Sara’s left arm was in a cast from her hand to her elbow, the brutally discolored fingers poking out feebly from the plaster. A bandage covered her left cheek where it had had to be stitched closed. Johnny could see the edges of a soft cast which wrapped around Sara's left side, through the opening in her hospital gown, obviously to support and protect broken ribs. And Sara’s right arm was wrapped in gauze covering some other, unknown wound.

    Taking in the picture of his sweet, innocent niece, lying there, unmoving, was more than Johnny could handle. With a wrenching sob, a damn broke inside of him as he sank to his knees in tears. Johnny was beyond words, beyond grief, all he could think was that he had somehow let this happen. 

    He knew his sister had never really loved her daughter. And he felt he should have been there to protect her from her. And now Sara was here, unable to move, unable to see, that somebody, even just one person in this world, loved her. The tears would not stop, and Johnny was powerless to try, but finally, after nearly fifteen minutes of heart wrenching sobbing he simply had no more tears left in him.

    The next six weeks were such an emotional grind for Johnny that he barely registered anything other than sadness, as he sat, day in and day out at Sara’s bedside. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he whispered to his little Sara, begging her to wake up, letting her know that Uncle Johnny was there, and that she would always have his back from now on. Telling her how he was going to take her home, and make things right for her.

    Johnny was sitting in the chair looking out the window at the cloudy August morning, thinking that this would have been the perfect kind of morning for Sara and Rubble to be in their yard, playing like they always did. When a new sound snapped him out of his grim thoughts.

    “Uncle Johnny?” a dry voice rasped behind him. Jerking him back to reality in a flash, as he spun around to the bed behind him. “Where are we Uncle Johnny? And where’s Rubble?” Sara was awake! For the first time in weeks, the sun seemed to shine on Johnny’s world, Sara was finally awake. 

    Tears poured down Johnny’s cheeks as nurses and doctors rushed into the room to poke and prod the small, scared girl . 

    Weeks later, after poor Sara was finally released from the hospital, a fresh hope of going to live with Uncle Johnny, bringing that smile back to her face, both of their worlds came crashing down. 

    In a surprising turn of events, the social worker Miss Bowman had, citing Johnny’s on again, off again, employment, and the need for him to travel extensively for such employment, recommended that Sara be placed into foster care. Thinking that a stable home would be best for the girl. Sadly for Sara, and Johnny, the judge agreed. 

    Sara was taken, screaming and crying for her Uncle Johnny into the system, where her life would be irreparably changed. 

    Over the next eight years Sara’s life heaved from one unstable home to the next. Sara being forcibly removed from three of them due to severe physical, and sexual abuse.

    As the years of pain and isolation continued, several changes happened to poor Sara. She finally realized that love was a sham. Anyone who ever told you they loved you either left when things got hard like her Uncle Johnny, or used that emotion as a weapon, like her mom, or any member of her foster family, like her first foster father, who would come into Sara’s room at night, and leave the poor girl a crying mess for days afterward.

    In one of the numerous foster homes Sara had been she met Lily, the most friendly child she ever met and he became her only friend that didn't tease her and soon as they grew closer, Sara was adopted by a new Family and soon enough she left and that was the last she heard of Lily. Sara has been once again left by another person he felt would stay.

  Sara new life was a mystery as she could not predict what will happen with her from this point onwards , what would be the fate of Sara ?, Would she be happy or will it be yet again another trauma?