Day 4
Russell toweled off his short, dark hair as he stepped out of the shower. He'd been in there for the better part of the last half hour, trying to rinse the soapy suds off of his body with zero water pressure. The water flow was now down to a trickle, leaving him with no choice but to make the decision to call a plumber. He'd installed the pipes himself and connected the running water to the local water supply. Inviting repairmen into the house that he'd built himself was like a blow to the ego. But he was still working all hours on clearing his beloved Glades of airplane parts, so he didn't have the time to fix the water himself. Besides, he didn't want to hear Mariel complaining about it when he got home from work later on.
Not bothering to shave, because regardless of how often he did it always grew back in within hours, Russell got dressed and left home.
Before work, he had to make a stop off at the hospital. He'd been requested to work overtime – again – with absolutely no notice, but it was his turn to pick up Jesse after school. Mariel always turned her cell phone off at work, so there was no way of reaching her to ask if she could pick their son up instead.
Mariel was an incredibly gifted nurse who loved her job and her patients. She'd already been promoted twice and was moving up the ladder at a remarkable speed. If they were to have a competition over who worked more overtime, Mariel would most definitely win. Whenever Russell visited her at the hospital, which was seldom nowadays, it was like hunting down an elusive deer in the forest. Just when he thought he was getting close to finding her, she would move off to hide behind another bush or tree. He didn't think it was intentional, but the game of hide and seek irritated him nonetheless.
The hospital staff were familiar with Russell so they let him roam around the hallways unchallenged. Nobody asked if he needed assistance down by the front desk. And no one told him off when he began to pop his head into random rooms with open doors, apologizing once when he caught an elderly woman with her gown open down the back.
As Russell turned a corner and trudged down another long, pastel pink hallway, he came upon a section of the hospital that was buzzing with activity. He was in the intensive care unit, where the seriously ill or injured patients were cared for.
One room – the large corner room with the two observation windows that was facing the reception area – was surrounded by all sorts of interesting characters. On-duty deputies from the sheriff's department, a smartly dressed woman who could have been a lawyer, two men wearing matching navy blue jackets and navy blue slacks, and a handful of nurses who were being shadowed by a creepy looking doctor. Russell had run into the aging Dr. Feld on more than one occasion, but had never had reason to speak to him. He wasn't a doctor known for his bedside manner. All the spectators had one thing in common – they had their full attention on whoever was inside that room. Some of them were being subtle about it, only glancing now and then, but most of them were just staring in rapt fascination. Judging by their expressions, one might think that they were waiting for a new exhibit to open at the zoo.
"What's in room number one?" Russell asked conversationally, not looking at anyone in particular. He didn't have to wait long before one of the nurses answered in a low whisper.
"Tom Underlay."
Homestead was a small town with a low population, so most people knew each other well enough that a name would suffice. It wasn't necessary to add that man who survived the plane crash. Everyone knew who Tom Underlay was and what he represented. He was Homestead's little miracle, the church's emissary, and the hospital's hero? That would explain why everyone was gawking at him.
Russell squeezed between two of the nurses to press up against the observation window, looking into the brightly lit room with all its equipment and machinery. He couldn't really see the patient for all the obstructions blocking his line of sight. Tom was hooked up to a nasal cannula, which was supplying him with supplemental oxygen, an IV drip, and several monitoring devices that left wires trailing out of his hospital gown. From Russell's vantage point, he could see tremulous movement from Tom's right arm.
"He's regained consciousness," Dr. Feld said perfunctorily to one of the nurses. "Go in there and sedate him again."
Sedate him? Again? Why the hell would they need to sedate Tom Underlay? He was barely capable of lifting his arm, never mind causing the hospital staff any trouble by pulling wires loose or becoming violent. Russell narrowed his eyes at the doctor's back, wanting to question this man's medical expertise. But all he could do was watch as one of the nurses entered the room and flicked on a blindingly intense overhead light.
On the bed, Tom reacted to the light, trying to raise his arm defensively against it. What purpose did that light serve except to throw Tom off balance? Weren't hospitals supposed to make their patients feel comfortable and at ease, not mimic the environment of an interrogation room?
Russell could see Tom's face now, albeit unclearly, as the brunette pleaded with the nurse. He was asking for something, his blue eyes slightly dazed but frightened looking. Who wouldn't be frightened if they woke up after having survived a plane crash only to find themselves on display like an alien in a dissection tank? Much to Russell's dismay, instead of answering Tom's repeated question, the nurse connected a syringe into the IV access device, and injected the sedative without hesitation. Tom reacted nearly instantly, sinking back into the mattress as his eyelids fluttered shut against his will.
Russell pushed away from the observation window feeling like a dirty pervert for having witnessed such a cruel act. The two men in the navy blue jackets were studying Tom's unconscious form with mild detachment, while some of the nurses were giggling. Tom wasn't being treated like a patient, he was being tormented like a potentially dangerous animal.
As Russell dragged himself away from the intensive care unit, he heard the doctor ask the nurse about what words had been exchanged inside the room.
"He was asking for his wife again, but I didn't answer him," the nurse replied unemotionally.
"That's all he said?"
"I asked him where he was. He knew he was in Homestead, but he didn't know the date."
"That's to be expected considering how he was unconscious during the first three days, although we still haven't been able to determine if he was conscious at any point in time between the crash and his rescue."
Unconscious for three days and sedated throughout the fourth. Russell couldn't help but feel sorry for Tom Underlay and disgusted at the hospital staff for treating him like a prisoner.
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