Short Stories

I swear I can hear the beeping in my sleep. And I mean even away from the hospital. Beep, Beep, Beep! I never understood it when people say they get so frustrated they want to pull their hair out, but now I do. I don’t actually pull my hair out, but I can at least understand the expression. I had to get rid of my beagle because she was starting to remind me of the beeps; incessant, that one was. Absolutely incessant. What’s strange though is that I don’t hear it when I’m actually there. I hold his hand constantly and I talk to him. Sometimes I swear he’s about to answer back. They say he won’t, but I got nothing better to do than try.

            I hurry to finish putting on my make-up. It’s nine a.m. Visiting hours have been open for an hour already. Thank goodness the beeping woke me up; it’s usually even more effective than an alarm clock. After making sure my mascara would be worthy of any date, I rushed to his beat-up truck he used to call his chick magnet, very incorrectly named, and race to my second home. Okay, so it was more like my primary home.

            “You’re in late today.” Hester greeted me quickly as I walked by her in the hall. I nodded and gave her my practice smile that was getting better every day and made it to his room. Room 211. I made sure that this room will only ever be his, no roommates, because of that number. February eleventh is our anniversary and they put him here without even knowing the significance. But things like that aren’t coincidences.

            There’s a science in numbers. The Mayans knew that. For our anniversary, Reggie and I went to Tulum and were told about how knowledgeable they were with their numbers. Smarter then than we are now. They knew where the sun would be exactly by time of day and year. The priests even had holes in the stone walls of their stages and knew exactly when the sun would shine through and illuminate them so they could pass themselves off as gods. Chichen Itza has exactly three-hundred and sixty-five steps to the top, divided into ninety stairs on each of its four sides and the snake slithers down the side the same time each year. Brings in the harvesting season and then says goodbye to it too. Numbers. I don’t have to pretend I’m god, but I still find numbers comforting and I like that he is in a room that seems to want him to remember about us. It’s all about the little things to show you that life is still on your side.

            “Hey baby,” I whisper and sit down at my post, picking up his hand in both of mine. His usually warm brown skin is still tough as leather, but it’s turning pale. He should be fishing with that beagle with the sun warm on him. I go open the blinds and scowl at the sun which doesn’t reach him. The Mayans could’ve fixed that.

            I resume my post and take a deep breath. “Hey baby,” I start over, “I’m back. Fall’s back too. The leaves are already changing and everything. You would love it if you could see it. Next time I’ll bring you some so you can smell them. Remember how you always used to say you could smell the fall? I’ll bring you some big red maple ones like you like. We should be going to the cabin right about now. My mother still says I should sell it, but when you wake up we’ll be needing it to get away from the city for a while. You’ll fish with Molly”—I couldn’t bear to tell him that I’d given her away—“and I’ll go pick the apples from the field and bake a homemade apple pie. We’ll have picnics by the brook and it’ll be perfect. You’ll kiss my knuckles and I’ll complain about your stubble, but really I’ll be relishing in it. I swear, I’ve always liked it and we’ll end with a bonfire under the stars. That’s the great thing about the stars, they’re so bright there. We can look at them for hours and you can show me all the constellations and I’ll pretend to remember them from last time. It’ll be good and you’ll laugh husky as I try to name them because you know I’m only pretending, but that’s just what I…”

 

I’m walking down the trail and stop to look up. The leaves send a burning, fiery light my way and turn Molly’s ears red as glowing embers. I love the fall, always have.

            “Come on pup,” I tell her. “Those trout won’t wait for us long.” She roots around the ground behind me, true to her species and I yell back at her, true to mine. Humans are great yellers and even better worriers. I’m worried now that we won’t make it back in time to make supper and my Grace is strict about that one rule. I pick up the pace and when we reach the brook, go to my perfect spot. It really is magical out here. The way the sun shines down on the water, making it cast light of its own. The crickets and birds. The sound of the wind playing in the leaves. I always thought this place was magical and as a boy when my dad would bring me here, I would go looking for the Jersey Devil when we were done fishing. I try to convince Grace we should move here permanently from the city, but so far it’s only our weekend getaway and we only use it in summer and fall only. One day though, when I retire maybe.

            Putting on my favorite hook, I cast the line over the stream. Not a true river, but enough for real fish. I tug it back and forth, teasing it across the water and then pull it out completely just to cast it again. After a while, it’s a mindless motion, and I take the time to breathe in the beautiful, rich smell of autumn, the hint of decay beneath the scent of life. Molly breathes in deep beside me and we catch each other’s eye, sharing a silent moment, understanding each other perfectly. I cast back out and by the time I’m ready to go, I’ve caught two decent sized Brook Trout. I caught another whiling away the time, but threw it back; Grace is weird about numbers and three is one more than we need for tonight.

            When we make it back, I wipe Molly’s feet diligently with an old floral towel left by the porch door for exactly that purpose and stride inside with my treasure in cooler. Grace is already in the kitchen and scolds me gently, pointing at the clock. I don’t care though. I go to her and kiss her like I used to in college; the kind where I lift her off her feet. Her laughter is carefree and young and I want to capture it in a jar and let it out whenever I feel far from her, which is lately for some reason. My cheeks turn pink and I set her down firmly, now smiling.

            “I’ve missed you,” I told her honestly. You have no idea how much.

            “I just saw you a couple hours ago,” she laughs and turns away. But she blushes too and I know I’ve pleased her. I’ve only ever wanted to please her. I drink in the way her hands start preparing the fish, already gutted, and memorize every little action. Her hand brushing her hair back from her face,  absentmindedly scratching her cheek. “What?” she asks, seeing my staring.

            “Nothing,” I mumble. “I just feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

            “What’s up with you? You see me right now.” She smiles and goes back to the fish, humming something I know is important but can’t seem to remember.

            “I know. It just feels like forever.”

 

Suddenly we’re outside at a bonfire and I jump from my camp chair and turn around, panicked. Grace is roasting a marshmallow and raises her eyebrows.

            “Whacha doin’?” she asks, amused, and I reluctantly sit back down. She hands me the perfectly browned marshmallow and holds out two halves of graham cracker for me to set it between, no chocolate for me. I go through the actions because I know it’s expected and as I bite into it, my fear gradually abates. Who cares how we got here? We’re here together now, and that’s all that matters. I reach forward and kiss her knuckles, licking away sticky marshmallow trails and she laughs, pointing to the sky. I obey her and look up at a heaven that must look like it did a thousand years ago. Perfect, shining, and so bright. Nothing has ever made me feel more insignificant and more hopeful. I start to point out Orion and she nods knowingly, but I know she’s faking.

 

“And then we’ll go home and, if it’s cold enough, we’ll build up a fire and drink white wine until we fall asleep on the couch.” He sleeps on, apparently oblivious. “It would make you so happy,” I whisper, my eyes tearing up unhelpfully. “You were always so happy there.”

            I stay all day, and my hunger not sated, prepare to stay for the night as well. Bonnie was on tonight, and even though I wasn’t technically supposed to spend the night anymore, Bonnie would usually look the other way if she stumbled on me in the early A.M. hours, dozing in my post. I even brought thick earmuffs I would wear to drown out the beeping. Usually though, holding his hand was enough for me to fall asleep, and it was the only time I ever slept well anymore. That way, I could pretend we were still side by side in bed, his arm around me.

            Having no other news to relate to him and finding it too sad to talk about what we would do, I took out a collection of Hemingway’s short stories and picked one at random to read. I didn’t really take in the words, but thought they might be comforting to him wherever he was; he didn’t read often, but he loved The Old Man and the Sea in particular. I used to joke that he would be my old man of the stream. It wasn’t really funny then either.

           

Grace had been talking to me about…something. Guilt ate at me as laid in bed and tried to remember. She had sounded sad about it. But now she was still and quiet. I pulled her to me a little closer, embarrassed at my earlier displays of over-affection but safe to do so now.

            “Grace?” I whispered.

            Nothing.

            I sighed and listened to the crickets outside the window, serenading us in their way. Sleep eluded me, had been eluding me, I realized with a jolt. Chewing on that, I tried to remember the last good sleep I had but came up empty. Was this what turning fifty would do to me? Was I already an old man before my time? Grace would laugh at my forgetfulness. I couldn’t remain uneasy though and began talking back about my own fears and disappointments, reassuring her that everything would be all right. That whatever this was, we would get through it. She didn’t seem to believe me, and even when I tried to prod her awake, she managed to escape my grasp and floated away.

 

Bonnie must’ve changed shifts without telling me, because it was Anne who walked in on me and no one gets away with anything with Anne. Hospital Nazi that one, and no one sneaks onto her shift. I imagined they put her on the night shift for that very reason; she could dispel anyone. It didn’t matter how many tears were shed. She was heartless.

            After parking the truck, I wandered up to my apartment feeling dejected and alone. Gathering my mail outside my door, I walked in and sat down at the table, going through it without really taking it in until my hands landed on a notice from my landlord. I opened it fearfully and saw that it was another statement about my lack of paying rent. I was two months behind and only had a couple more weeks to get everything to her before I would be evicted. I cursed silently and set my head down on the table. After the accident, I hadn’t been up to going to work and, though they were understanding in the beginning, their patience didn’t last, resulting in my polite removal from the office. I got that, knew I wasn’t trying as hard as I could. But my parents were older and had problems of their own because of Dad’s bad heart, and I didn’t really have anyone to talk to anymore and things got worse. I hadn’t told Reggie that I had lost the townhouse. We had picked that house out together and I had lost it. Mom tried to convince me to sell the cabin to save the house, but I couldn’t do that. That was Reggie’s and had been in his family for generations. He was the last of them left and what would he say when he woke?

            So, I got a new job and a little apartment. I had gotten rid of Molly so nothing was taking up my time at home. I literally had nothing to come here for except to sleep when Bonnie wasn’t on, which really wasn’t that much to lose I guess. But these sad remains were all I had. Somehow, I managed to fall asleep at the table, but the infernal beeping I had left behind caught up with me again, and I woke up with a jolt when I saw I wasn’t at Reggie’s side. Yawning into my fist, my heart received another painful jolt when I realized I was late for work…again.

            Amelia met me as soon as I entered the restaurant. Waitressing was something I had done in college to get by, and was my automatic fall back after being fired from the office. I patted my hair self-consciously to see that it was still in a perfect perky ponytail and rubbed my hands over my wrinkled black pants I had seriously meant to wash yesterday. “Amelia?”

            “You’re late again, Grace,” she started and held up her hands to ward off my excuses. “I know you lost track of time. You always lose track of time.” Her voice was as polite as my last boss’, and her eyes looked at me just as sadly. I felt like the old dog that had to be put down. It was despicable but something that had to be done. “I know that you’re all torn up about Reggie, and that’s okay. You should be. But you should not,” her voice got a little clearer, “let that affect your whole life. I want you to take a week off of work and go to talk to someone.”

            “I talk to my mother,” I inserted quietly.

            “Well that’s obviously not enough. I mean someone professional. Please, go talk to a therapist or something, Grace, and if you feel like you can come back to work and actually make it a priority, we’ll talk about that in a week.” She was staring me down hard and I found I had to avert my eyes. “Please,” she added more gently. “I really don’t want to fire you or anything, but you need help.”

            “I know.” My head still down, I turned and trudged back to my car, feeling her eyes on me the whole time until after I pulled out of the parking lot. How was I supposed to afford a therapist? I couldn’t call Mom; she’d helped enough with the initial hospital bills. My only friend who still tried to talk to me I had been ignoring. If I called her, that would be a direct invitation back into my life and I couldn’t justify trying to shut her out again. Thank goodness Reggie’s health insurance covered the majority of his expenses, but I wasn’t about to take anything for me. He was the one who needed it all. Worse things could happen though, I decided, pulling up beside the hospital. At least I would be able to have a whole week to spend with Reggie. I would tell Amelia I talked to someone; would tell her it did me some good and get my job back. But right now, I wanted nothing more than this. Reggie’s hand in mine and no hospital attendant about to chase me from his side.

 

I look around the green hillside and breathe in deeply to better catch the scent of summer. Grace already had the blanket on the ground and was busy unpacking the picnic basket, handing me a ham and swiss sandwich over her shoulder. This was the life.

            “This is the life,” I tell her and lean back on my elbows. The sky was a perfect blue no painter could ever copy and there was just the perfect hint of breeze. “Are you still sure you don’t want to live out here permanently?”

            “Pretty sure,” she answers and I shake my head in true disappointment. “Come on, Reggie, what would I do for work? I can’t just leave the office.”

            “Baby, you’re a secretary. They have those in the country, believe it or not.” This was always her reason and it was a flimsy one. “What are you really worried about?”

            “I like the city,” she insisted, settling down on her elbows too and nudging me playfully. “I like doing things, and there’s nothing going on here.”

            “I wish times like this would last forever. You look happy out here.” And she did look happy. The breeze was playing with her hair, tugging it gently from her ponytail and letting it float freely about her face. Her hair was just beginning to be stringed with gray, but God, was she beautiful. She caught me looking and smiled, and I really did wish we could be this happy always. I had the nagging feeling sometimes like something was right around the corner; that something was going to break this. Break us. I had to grin at my own foolish thoughts and leaned over to grab the pears out of the basket. When I turned back over she was gone. Furrowing my brow, I looked around to see that I wasn’t on our picnic hill at all, but instead on the fishing trail. Molly bounded up to me, barking happily, and I shook my head which felt suddenly groggy.

            “Okay, okay,” I told the still-barking beagle. “Okay, let’s go.” I got a better hold of my fishing pole and picked up my tackle box which was sitting by my feet. She raced ahead of me, occasionally looking back to see if I was still following, and I shook my head once more to better clear it, before striding along behind her. I had to hurry; otherwise I would get home too late to cook the fish for dinner. Grace was funny about that one rule.

 

My phone began to ring right as I was telling Reggie how, when we went back to the cabin after he got better, he would surely try to convince me to stay. I went to the hallway to take it, automatically trying not to disturb Reggie although the idea was preposterous.

            “Grace, I’ve been trying to reach you for days,” the voice exclaimed angrily on the other end. “I need the rent today!”

            Worry unwound in my belly and I felt sick when I realized what I had forgotten. I had forgotten the rent again! I had remembered to call Amelia and lied about the therapist. Whether or not she believed me was up in the air; she had given me my job back but had cut my hours tremendously. What I had left had to go to my cell phone bill and to put gas in the truck to take me to and from the hospital. I had nothing left for rent; at least, not three months’ worth.

            “I’m so sorry!” I gushed, lowering my voice. “I lost track of time and I’ve been in the hospital, so my phone isn’t usually on.”

            “I know, you’re always at the hospital. I need the rent today.”

            “I don’t have all of it. Can I give you this month’s today and work on the rest? I’ll get it to you, I promise. I just need some more time. My hours were cut, but I’m going to get them back.”

            After some choice words and a thorough telling off, my landlord agreed on giving me a little more time so long as I paid this month’s rent today, so I hurried back into room 211, gave Reggie a quick kiss on the forehead, and scuttled back to the apartment like a dog with her tail between her legs. Knocking timidly on my landlord’s door, I offered the check. I swear, her mole had gotten bigger since the last time I’d seen her. My eyes quickly found hers, and I hoped I hadn’t been caught looking.

            “If I don’t have it all by next month’s rent, you’re out.”

            “I understand ma’am,” I answered on my way out, nodding fervently. “I’m not going to let you down. You’ll have it.”

 

The black sky overhead was shot through with amazing arcs of color. It was as though God Himself took the night off of everyone else’s problems and devoted Himself to His art. And oh, how glorious it was. I had seen the Northern Lights before but couldn’t understand why they would be here in New Jersey. Nothing I had seen in New Jersey compared to the light show I was experiencing now. I glanced around me to tell Grace but found myself alone on a path in the woods. Another second and I realized this wasn’t the fishing path. I didn’t really know where I was. The idea of concern filtered through my foggy mind with no real sense of purpose. It wasn’t so much the feeling itself, but the knowledge that something was wrong and I should be concerned about it. Finding no room to stick, it wandered away nonchalantly and I found there was no sound. That’s what was wrong. Not a single cricket was resonating with this beautiful summer night. No owl was prowling in the overshadowed trees pressing in on me. Nature wasn’t following its own rules. All was silence and splendor. This is just like a dream, I thought and tried moving my legs. Seeing that they were indeed mobile, I struck out on the path ahead of me, wondering where I would end up.

             “Reggie, please,” Grace’s voice rang out above me and I looked about in alarm. She was standing on the path right behind me. We must’ve been walking in perfect unison for me not to have noticed her footfalls crashing in the weight of this silent space. She held out her hand imploringly, and smiling, I went to grasp it when the world careened around me wildly, pushing me far up into the sky, past the brilliant burning flames, and into the black.

            I couldn’t open my mouth though I longed to scream for Grace. I pushed against the black desperately; I was drowning, smothering, and I couldn’t move my arms. Oh God, I couldn’t move my arms! The concern that hadn’t paid me any mind a few moments ago slammed into me with renewed determination and panic made me feel faint. This had happened before; something was horribly, terribly, and hellishly wrong and had been wrong. I had to wake up, to fight through the black and almost puked when an awful echoing ringing filled my ears. What was that?!  I turned to see nothing, called out for no answer. I was alone in this purgatory.

            Just when I thought I wouldn’t be able to bear it for another moment, I found myself falling quickly and before I knew it, I was back on the path. Grace was there smiling, Molly prancing merrily around my feet, and the sun was shining with joy on the trail that must’ve been the fishing path all along.

            “I’ve been calling you,” Grace chastised me sweetly, and I immediately felt guilty for worrying her enough to come out looking for me.

            “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to come out here.”

            “I thought you left me for the woods.” She laughed and extended her hands as though to better show off the contender for my affections.

            “Nah, she’s got nothing on you,” I promised. “Nothing’s got anything on you. I’ll always come back.” The awful ordeal was slowly leaving my memory, and once more I found myself deliciously removed from whatever had just happened. I was where I was needed now at any rate, and I threaded my fingers through hers easily, swinging out arms back and forth as we made our way back home.

 

“Grace, there’s been no change,” the doctor told me seriously, examining Reggie’s charts. I could feel that my face was flushed and my breathing hadn’t returned to normal yet as I stared hopefully down at my husband.

            “I’m telling you, Dr. Ryans, his eyelid twitched and he tightened his hand on mine. I saw it!”

            “I don’t see any evidence of any change,” he said once more to me, refusing to give me any credit, his eyes disbelieving. “You look like you’ve been up for a while. Maybe you just imagined it.”

            “I didn’t imagine it! I was here with him and two minutes ago he was struggling to get out. If he’s going to get better, you have to believe me! Check the charts again!”

            “Grace,” the doctor said very seriously, “this isn’t the first time you’ve claimed something like this to have happened. I understand why you have to remain hopeful, but I have to be very serious with you. When Reggie fell and hit his head in that river, he was under long enough to cause some very serious damage. These machines here are all that’s keeping him alive and it is my professional opinion when I tell you that I doubt very highly he will wake up. And,” he cut me off before I could scream my own opinions at him, “even if he did, there is no telling what he would be like. He has brain damage and would probably be very different than the man you married.”

            “He moved,” I whispered again. “I swear he moved.”

            Doctor Ryans shook his gray head sadly. “You’re dreaming,” he said gently and handed me a card. “This is for a doctor in this very hospital. I think you really need to talk to him.” Patting my shoulder, he moved back out of the room and I sat and picked up Reggie’s hand.

            “Reggie, please,” I whispered again. “Come back.” I had nowhere to go tonight and I couldn’t go back to the cabin where everything happened without him.

 

“Reggie, please,” Grace whispered and I leaned away from the fireplace and took my place beside her on the couch. “Come back.”

            “You got it.” I kissed her head and felt myself sinking into drowsiness, head leaning on hers.