Authors: Kathy-Lynn Cross
Thank goodness, I broke my left arm and not the right. Because writing is therapy and for me not to have the ability would have damaged my soul.
~Alexcia
The food left something to be desired. I was held captive at Summerset Hospital and was finally moved to a decent room. The drawback? I had to share it. When I was wheeled into the room for the first time, she introduced herself as Willow Glasston. She snored. But, I was told I did too. Blakely had confirmed it the last time she came to visit and woke me up to tell me so. I kind of felt bad for the woman sentenced to share the room with me. Every time someone came into our room, she complained her chest hurt and was having a heart attack. The nurses and doctors would reassure her by explaining she was experiencing a bad case of acid reflux.
Rae-Lynn took a few weeks off work to keep me company and to help at home. When I fell asleep or was tied up in the bathroom, Mom would go over and talk with my roommate. Willow seemed to enjoy the attention Rae-Lynn gave her and nicknamed her Angel. “Angel, can you get my glasses? Angel, can you turn off the light for me.” She didn’t know Rae-Lynn very well. I love my mom, but she was far from the ranks of celestial beings. I never saw anyone come to visit Willow, and it made me appreciate the people around me a lot more than before the accident.
Father was another story. He left the day after I went from needing a coffin to remaining in a hospital bed. I’m sure he was pissed the latter was costing him more money in the long run. They gave me some excuse about the Dow dropping and it was imperative to save their asses, I meant their assets.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Max. Usually, we have this wall that separates us from becoming dad and daughter.
I came to terms with it a while ago. For some reason, our titles changed to father and child.
We had been close… before the accident I’d had when I was six. I don’t remember what happened, only that our relationship had changed shortly after that. I still remember the long walks we shared. He would point out and tell me about the animals, plants, and trees. Max knew a lot about nature and seemed to want to pass the knowledge down to me. He would even come into the playroom for tea parties or to color in one of the Disney princess books I owned. Max sparked my imagination with stories about how, someday, I would be a princess like them. I loved calling him dad.
But, I believe he sees me as a piece from his art collection or one of his business suits. A possession, something to own but that one day will be discarded.
I stared out the window as small, insignificant tears rolled down both cheeks. It was unfathomable I could still cry. The past six days, it was all I had done. I was cursed to live future days soggy for eternity. I leaned over to the rolling hospital table for another tissue.
Max should tell his shareholders to invest in Kleenex. Their stock would go up and he would have me to thank for supplying the need.
Mom left to get us some real food. I had begged her for any kind of take-out close by. After she removed the lunch plate lid and saw the over-cooked meat cube that could pass for cardboard, she agreed. I desired something greasy and salty.
Rae-Lynn had been going above and beyond for me. No one would ever find her without her laptop, Blackberry Sonic and collapsible iPad. She was always busy with her job as a full-time journalist. Actually, she worked primarily as a freelance reporter, but her work had been picked up by several magazines and a few out-of-state newspapers.
I’m pretty proud of her. She has looks, talent, and a good marriage.
Max and Rae-Lynn look like a matching Ken and Barbie set. They make a very good living too.
One desire was to have them around more, instead of having something tragic happen to bring us together. But then, I wouldn’t have had the freedom to hang out the way I did. So, something had to be sacrificed for our lifestyle.
Family time is a have to, when we have the time to. Most people don’t get that.
Willow rolled over and mumbled something under her breath to remind me she was there. I turned up the volume on the small TV facing me so I could focus on that rather than her. A familiar face came around the corner about the time I was getting ready to change the channel.
Blakely sauntered through the door wearing her standard black zip-up hoodie, and dark blue jeans two sizes too big, held up by a huge, black belt. While inspecting the rest of her clothes, I noticed her white tank top underneath the hoodie. A cream-colored stain the size of a baseball showed on the front of it. Then it hit me… caffeine. She was carrying three cups of coffee, accompanied by a brown paper bag from the Sip ’N Chug tucked under her other arm.
The Sip ’N Chug coffeehouse, owned by Mr. Sipton, was my place of employment. I was certain it burned Blakely’s butt that the owner probably made her pay for our goodies… even if he knew she was buying it for us. I hope he was at least giving her the fifteen percent employee discount.
We greeted each other with a smile when I saw her placing the cup holder onto the table. Her expression quickly turned into a frown. “Dammit. This is my favorite tank too. Look what your stupid coffee did to me. Napkins, I need napkins.” She reached over to the tissue box, pulled out a wad of sheets, and repeatedly dabbed at the unwanted spot.
“Hi to you too. You’re a lifesaver.” I reached over to grab a cup and she smacked me, leaving a two finger welt. It hurt enough that I impulsively rubbed the top of that hand against the blankets. “What the hell? We drink the same coffee, heavy vanilla, light mocha with a shot of espresso. Now what gives? Can I reach for the pastry, or are you going to cut off the hand next?” I was eyeing the brown paper recycled bag while still rubbing the skin. It was going to leave a mark.
“Crap, Lex-Cee. Don’t they feed you around here? You’re always acting like you’re starving. I didn’t see a sign out front that read,
We Do Not Feed the Patients
.” She took the lids off the coffee cups to let them cool. “Where’s your mom? I figured she could use a cup too. I got her a regular strength joey.” Blakely pulled out the napkins and flavored Stir Stix. My boss, Mr. Sipton, thought it was clever to change the word sticks with an X on the Sip ’N Chug menu. A small frown formed on Blakely’s face.
Curling all four fingers to forget about the sting, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I forgot your Cinna Frog Stix. I could have sworn I asked him for one. You can have my Slap Ya Lemon one, I guess.” Her frown deepened.
“Forget it. I’m thankful you’re here and brought me fuel,” I said, motioning toward the coffees.
“Oh, I’m sorry Lex-Cee. I wanted to give you the right one since I spilled it. And now I forgot your Stir Stix.” She grabbed the full coffee instead of the one dripping coffee tears from the lid, “Here.”
“Thanks, Blakely. Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m not the one laid up in this sterile insane asylum. I’m sure it’s worse than being at school. Since you’re watched all the time here, it’s the least I can do.” With narrow eyes, she turned slowly around and let out a slow breath. “It’s kind of creepy, even with all the flowers. How do you breathe in here?” She handed me the hot cup and opened the bag of sweet goodies. Saliva pooled as she pulled out a powered donut placing it on the napkin across from me. Licking her fingers, her other hand reached back into the bag for her dark chocolate iced one. I wasn’t too crazy about chocolate, but it was her favorite and especially dark chocolate.
Yuck.
Welcoming the warm vapors into my nose, I felt them tease the other senses and took a huge sip, allowing the life-giving liquid to give me a quick charge. I leaned back into the bed and sighed. “This is awesome. Thanks so much for all of it. Rae-Lynn should be back any moment. She went to get us lunch.” I lifted the cover on the food plate and watched Blake’s nose curl up. She looked at me with a new understanding, and I knew by the look on her face she would be waiting for me to show up with food too.
We laughed and put the cover back down. Willow asked us to use our inside voices. Blake narrowed her eyebrows and reached for the curtain separating our areas, pulling it around the bed as she whispered a generic apology. Normally, Blakely would have told her to shove it up her ass and mind her own damn business. I think the reality of an old person in a hospital bed went against her usual need to be blunt.
She grabbed the chair from behind her and made a temporary bed/work space and sat down. I looked at the time and noticed it was only 12:20 p.m. “Ah, Blake darling, aren’t you supposed to be in last period? Don’t you think Ms. Kyto will miss you? P.E. won’t be the same without you if you get your ass thrown out of her class.”
“Don’t worry about it. She won’t care when I tell her I came to rescue her star pupil. Tennis won’t be the same without you either. How long before you can come back to school?” She was knocking on the cast and pulling out a medium black Sharpie.
I took another quick sip and set the cup on the table. “The doctor said I can go home in a couple of days. I won’t get the brace off for about another week, but I can use crutches in the meantime. The short arm cast is another issue. Four, maybe five weeks before this arm will be exposed to the light of day. It sucks, but at least it wasn’t the right one. I can still move these fingers with this kind of cast, but I have to be careful when using the crutches, one wrong slip and my butt’s back in here.”
Shifting over to one side of the bed, I moved the arm so she would have better access to the cast. “Hey, are Ghost and Dee coming by today? I haven’t had my daily dose of
I told you so
from Dee, with a sprinkling of sarcasm, courtesy of Ghost.” I readjusted the thin hospital blanket so I wouldn’t be flashing anyone walking in. Moving was a chore with one side not working so well. I reached for the cup again.
Blake flipped the hair out of her eyes and tucked the rest under her hoodie. “They said they would stop by after Ghost finishes his hauntings at work.” Dee is going to catch a ride with him, so you’ll have to wait a few hours before you get your fix. Now hold still.”
Every day she added something new to her expanding artwork. She was sticking her tongue out while moving the pen in small, pointed triangles. Intensely watching her draw the mouth of the shark reminded me of the donut. Without thinking, I leaned forward placing the cup on the table and snatched the powdered sugar one. With a mouth full of smooth sugary sweetness, I heard a disappointing huff.
“Dammit, Alexcia, tell me when you want something or need to move. Now I will have to draw a hook or something out of the shark’s mouth. Crap, I will have to remember to bring a red pen tomorrow.” Blakely eyed her work, “…and a blue one too.” She sat up waiting for me to finish chewing. I grabbed a napkin to wipe the powdered sugar off and made a slight cough while reaching for the coffee cup. I gave her a smirk and cradled the cup close for protection.
“Are you done yet?”
I gave her a look of
really
and nodded. Blake went back to work on her dot-to-dot.
The TV was dismal, showing nothing but how-to shows and news. Balancing the coffee next to my right hip and using a free hand to pull the remote closer, I kept pushing the up button, channel surfing, to kill time while Blakely created her new masterpiece. That was when a picture flickered into focus. A feeling of dread stopped my finger on KSNV Channel 3.
The news anchor was finishing her intro when the next story caught my breath. Cameras highlighted a dark highway and several emergency vehicles with their lights flashing in the background. Not realizing I was shaking, I pushed the volume plus sign on the remote.
A news broadcaster at the scene held his rain attire so the wind wouldn’t claim it. The accident he was covering resembled a small nuclear test site and what was left of the mangled vehicles involved reminded me of corpses. Scattered fires were still burning in the tumbleweeds and Joshua trees were being snuffed out by fire hoses. A video camera scanned the carnage of what was left of the wreckage. Then a man’s voice sliced through my memory, mixing with familiar images as he covered the story.
“…about a week ago this horrific scene could have been avoided if the driver of a fuel truck had taken the time to pull over and use a rest stop. Three teens and the driver of the big rig were killed. Only one passenger in the oncoming pickup survived this crash. Getting behind the wheel with an insufficient amount of sleep and driving under poor road conditions to make up time seems to be on the rise. Could companies soon be held accountable for pressuring their drivers to meet impossible deadlines? Or will the freight companies leave the truck drivers to be accountable for their own actions? Unfortunately, Hank Timberman and three teenagers paid the price. Tune in for a look at these questions and more on Channel 3 News at Five.”
I didn’t see Rae-Lynn holding out the tissue box. The room grew colder, and I wasn’t hungry anymore. She had gone to In-N-Out Burger. Normally, the smell would have had me barking like Gigi and begging for a fry. Today, nerves trumped food and I grabbed the pink puke tray and let go. Blakely jumped back and started timidly patting me as she made little gagging noises. Rae-Lynn sighed and set down the bags of food in the chair. She walked over to push the call button for the nurse’s station and asked for someone to bring in a new blanket, hospital gown, and a couple of washcloths. Then she took Blakely’s spot, moved the half empty cup back to the table, and held back a few locks of hair as I deposited used coffee and donut in the bowl.