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as her hair shortened to the length she had cut it.
    She never turned around.
    It’s time to wake up.
    “ It’s time to wake up.”
    The ocean pulled back.
    It’s time to wake up…
    Palm trees and cypress began to tip over like stage props.
    C’mon — wake up, wake up, wake up .
    The seabirds shimmered away. Everything faded, till she was surrounded by blackness. A new sound floated to her ears — an alien sound from far away. She finally identified the blips and bleeps as hospital monitors, and grew excited because she knew it meant she was almost there. She opened her eyes with tons of effort because they felt grainy and weighed down by a bag of cement. Without turning her head, she saw her mother in a chair by the bed. Audrey was reading a book. A headache ice-picked at Saffron’s temples, the fluorescent lights pulsed and slapped at her eyelids. She felt like she weighed three hundred stiff pounds. “Sorry I took so long, Mom.” Her voice was croaky.
    “ Oh, hi, Saffron….I was just about to find out if Sofia runs off to the Caribbean with Eduardo!”
    “ No,” Saffron grunted, and with difficulty, pulled one of the monitoring cords out from under her butt, “she doesn’t. She wants more out of life than electric eyes and a nice ass.”
    Audrey beamed as she stroked Saffron’s soft, shoulder-length hair, “Ah…I see.”
    A silent tear rolled down Saffron’s cheek as she looked into her mother’s love-filled eyes.
    Suddenly, Audrey leaned forward and let her head fall on Saffron’s stomach. She began crying silently at first, but soon couldn’t control herself and began sobbing openly. She soaked the bleached, hospital-issue sheet as she clutched blindly to grab at her child. She stood and gripped Saffron by the shoulders, leaned down on her elbows before her body could collapse, and cried some more.
    Audrey smelled fresh and beautiful to Saffron, her citrus perfume the most beautiful memory, her many bracelets a soothing, cacophonic symphony. Saffron ran both hands through her mother’s tousled hair and whispered, “Ssshh, ssshh.” It was all she could do to console her. “Ssshh, ssshh.”
    Derek came running into the room already honking and blubbering like a sea lion. Saffron looked over at him and smiled. If the shock of seeing Saffron sitting there, awake, wasn’t enough — he was further perplexed by the look on the girl’s face, and the strength in her features. There was something else, too. He studied her through his tears and frowned.
    Audrey turned and crumbled into his arms, but still his eyes were on Saffron’s face. He had seen a face like hers before — in artist renderings of saints, in movies of heroic underdogs. He read about such gazes in works by Shakespeare and Plato. A chill ran through him. Saffron appeared wise beyond her years. She exuded a strong confidence, and blessed him with a smile that said all will be well, we have nothing to fear. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed. She looked… old!
    “ Derek, why are you looking at me like that?” Saffron forced out in her hoarse, just-out-of-a-coma voice. She tried to hack to clear her throat. He was making her nervous. He looked like he had just been struck by lightning. “I’m okay, you know.”
    Derek didn’t move.
    Saffron began to panic. Just a little. “See, I’m awake.” She was stating the obvious, but all the same, it seemed to do the trick.
    Derek snapped out of the spell that held him, a smile started on his lips. He reached for Saffron’s hand. “Don’t do that again, Saffron. No more going into comas. Dilly girl.”
    “ Yeah, okay, Daddy. I promise.”
    They all held onto each other as tears of relief streamed down their cheeks.
     
     

Chapter 4
     
     
    S everal weeks passed. Most of the hubbub concerning Saffron finally quieted down. Audrey was improving with each day, and finding an outlet for her pain through her art. With Saffron home safely, Audrey could relax and mourn her mother. The piece