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Queue The Civil Wars - "The Devil's Backbone"
The steady, approaching click click click of Vida Moore evening shoes on the linoleum hospital floor awoke Jack from his reverie. It was the first out of the ordinary sound he had heard all night. The soft, hushed voices of nurses and muted squeaking of gurneys passing by had lulled him into unconsciousness. His head had been in his hands, his elbows on his knees, and though he'd hoped to keep vigil all through the night, he was afraid he might have been sleeping, at least for the past few minutes. At first, all he registered apart from the sound of her shoes was yards and yards of fabric. She hustled down the hallway in an emerald colored evening dress, that hugged her shape with soft, shiny silk that squeezed her torso and melted into yards and yards of ruffled, tiered silk organza just below her waist.
Lord have mercy Jack thought. When Forrest gets outa this and wakes up, I hope she's not still wearing that. Invincible only goes so far.
What he'd noticed was the slit up the left side of the dress, from her ankle all the way up to above her knee. Her hem didn't come close to touching the floor, it bobbed happily just above her ankles. If he were female, he probably would have noted that the dress had been cut at the tail end of the 1920s, and that it looked wonderful when in context, but absolutely ridiculous at near three o'clock in the morning in the middle of a rural Virginia hospital.
"Jack!" Alice called, and he snapped out of his weary daydream. She quickly adjusted the white cardigan she'd slipped on when she stopped the car and almost jumped out of the Pierce-Arrow without parking it. She'd shrugged her coat off somewhere between Timberlake and Rustberg, when she got too frustrated with it to drive properly. But she wanted to appear more rather than less demure in case she had to speak with anyone and be taken seriously. Jack hopped to his feet.
"Alice."
She shook her head and sat down beside him on the bench he'd been on, taking one of his hands when he sat down again beside her.
"What happened?" She asked softly.
"I was out tryin' to see if I could see Bertha. Her daddy was having some church bazar tonight to raise money for the new steeple an-"
"Jack?" Alice asked carefully. "What happened to Forrest?"
Jack scrunched his face sheepishly and his young, innocent features looked, for a moment, marred with age.
"He had trouble with somebody. They cut his throat in the parking lot of Blackwater Station."
Alice gasped in horror and her 12 button gloved right hand flew to her mouth. If she had been thinking of herself in the slightest, she would have noticed that she was trembling and quaking, and that she'd grown suddenly cold. Her other hand darted out to take Jack's. Jack nodded and sucked in his bottom lip, trying not to tear up.
"He's in surgery. I was at Burnt Chimney when it happened, and Howard" Jack bit his bottom lip, his eyes flashing with anger, and then took a deep breath.
"Howard was 'sposed to be there at 11 to stand backup with some new buyers. He and Danny were supposed to check stills an' then come back but I donno where the hell he is now. He didn't show. Maggie says it was just her and Cricket and Forrest at lockup. It was her who told me. I got back to the station and everything was dark. The phone was ringin' and it was her. Guess she found out somehow." Jack was too distraught to think critically about how it was that Maggie knew as much as she did about the incident.
"Where is Maggie?" Alice asked.
"She went to see if she could find coffee somewhere."
Alice nodded and squeezed his hand again. "Did they say how long before they know something?"
Jack shook his head. "Shouldn't be much longer. They been in there awhile."
Alice patted Jack's hand and leaned against the bench, tipping her head back against the wall and sighing, staring at the blank white ceiling. The two sat silent and stony faced, looking up hopefully at anyone who seemed to be coming from the direction of one of the few operating rooms. Alice herself felt sick. The rich, decadent food from Carrie's party swirled around in her stomach and churned with her anxiety in the pit of her belly. She hoped it wouldn't all come back up. She started her slow, intentional breathing, meant to calm her, the way Lettie had taught her to do when she was little. She searched desperately for some bit of comfort to cling to. Despite the way she cleaved to the few, precious words mumbled to her from Forrest's pouty mouth each time they spoke, she worried and feared those she felt she couldn't trust. Not that she'd believed he would deceive her. But he was a staunch believer in his own myth. She'd heard plenty of legends before. But she had no faith that stories and their embellishments had the power to shield flesh and bone. If she had learned anything living in logging camps, and from her father, it was that anyone could die. They do. And they will. For Alice it was only ever a question of how long she'd get to keep those precious to her, for they would all inevitably be gone away from her. One way. Or another. And she couldn't bear the thought of Forrest being anywhere other than in his chair in his office, or his rocker on the porch, or at a table in the station, worrying over his log book. He was part of Blackwater Station. And it, in turn, now part of her. It had settled into her and she into it like a child and her mother in each other's arms. Of course, there were other places Alice could picture Forrest, if she'd admit to herself the things she thought about late at night, quiet and sleepy in her bed. But it wasn't time to think of those things now. Alice reached for Jack's hand again. Maggie came trudging up the stairs at the end of the hallway, walking towards the two of them. Alice immediately registered something strange about her, but said nothing. Perhaps Maggie was as worried as Alice was. In a small, meek tone, her coat wrapped around her protectively, Maggie explained that she was going back to the hotel to sleep. She would be back to visit in the morning.
Soon after Maggie left, Alice found herself leaping to her feet after Jack, who had noticed Forrest's surgeon coming down the hall. The man strode towards the both of them, wiping his hands off on a towel, his white, rolled up sleeves tinted pink. Jack fumbled his hat around in his hand, and Alice watched as the doctor's feet seemed to move slower than if they had been stuck in thick, sucking tar. In reality, it was moments before he crossed to the odd looking pair. The doctor took a deep breath.
"Your brother will be fine." He said. A collective sigh fell from the lips of both Alice and Jack. "It's miraculous," the doctor began, shaking his head not in disapproval, but in disbelief. "He should be able to eat, breathe and speak normally in time, though I am going to recommend we keep him overnight the next few nights, and he shouldn't talk for a while. He's anesthetized right now, but we're going to move him into another room soon."
Alice dropped back onto the bench, her knees no longer willing to accommodate her. She hadn't realized how terribly tired she'd been. She barely heard the words between Jack and the doctor, she simply stared ahead at the white walls, numb and light hearted at the same time.
"Alice?" Jack was carefully leaning over her, speaking quietly. "You all right?"
Alice smiled meekly. She realized that the doctor had gone and that Jack had been speaking to her. "Yes. Yes, I am. Now. I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I borrowed Cricket's car to go to Burnt Chimney. It's parked outside. I'm gonna go home now, somebody's gotta tell Howard when he gets back, and I'm gonna try to open the station for gas tomorrow." Jack stood back upright, and puffed out his chest. He suddenly felt less helpless, now that he knew Forrest would be all right. He had a purpose. He would take such good care of the station Forrest would be proud of him when he got home. That's what he would do. "You gonna be all right? You want me to walk you back to the hotel?" Jack asked, his big brown eyes wide and questioning.
"Yes," Alice said. "I think I'll just sit here a moment, before I go back. I had a long drive." She smiled as best she could manage so Jack wouldn't worry after her. He patted her hand and made his way briskly out of the hospital, out into the night to find where he'd parked the car. Alice sat a few minutes and stared at the clock on the wall, watching it tick, tick, tick the seconds by. Then she started to cry. Tears slowly trailing down her cheeks when she blinked, at first, and then a deluge of them spilling onto her dress and her sweater. She sobbed softly, and only composed herself when a young nurse came and knelt beside her.
"Hey, you awlright, doll?" The other girl asked. She had a comforting, homey drawl to her voice. Alice noticed she had a warm, round face. She imagined the girl crouching before her must have offered comfort to many a person on this same bench. Alice smiled and put on her bravest smile, wiping her tears away with the fingertips of her gloves. The other girl looked back and forth in the deserted hallway, as if she were worried another might overhear.
Queue Composer Gabriel Yared - "Ada Plays"
"Are you Alice?" She asked. Alice raised her eyebrows, but kept her expression friendly.
"Yes….how did you know?"
The other girl smiled devilishly.
"Come with me." The two walked along the hallway, staying close to one of the walls, Alice following the nurse's lead. When they reached a darkened room at the end of the hall, she leaned her face in close and whispered.
"He's not really awake, yet, but I changed his dressing just after surgery, and he asked for you. He's very, very groggy, in and out of consciousness, and may not be makin' much sense, but you should be able to see him for just a moment. When you leave, sneak out this service entrance 'round the corner here. It's late, no one else should be checkin' on him tonight."
Alice squeezed the girl's hand and mouthed 'Thank You.' Then quickly she ducked into Forrest's closed hospital room. The only light was from streetlights outside, casting a soft glow over the bed in which his hulking frame lay. When her eyes adjusted, she could see his big chest rise and fall as air filled his lungs. For a moment, she simply stood there, looking at what features of his she could make out in the shadowed light through the window, but she was shaken by sounds outside the door and realized that her time was limited. Cautiously, she approached his bed. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard his deep, grumbling voice warble.
"Alice?"
Without hesitation, she carefully picked up a chair from the corner and placed it by his side as soundlessly as she could manage, perching on it for a moment. "Yes," she whispered, leaning close. "I'm here."
"Beautiful Alice." He said. She couldn't tell if he was dreaming, or if he meant to be speaking aloud to her, but her heart fluttered in her chest like it was made of hummingbird wings. His eyes were closed, and his breathing even and slow, and his forehead knitted and relaxed in turn, which suggested to her that he might simply be sleeping off the ether, and having strange dreams. He moved one of his giant paws from where it was folded on his chest, and reached it out towards her. She took it carefully, folding her gloved fingers around his and her thumb under his.
"Forrest," she whispered, leaning in over him, close enough so he could hear her, far enough from him to be considered behaving herself. "Shhhh, Forrest," she soothed. "You're not supposed to be talking yet." He squeezed her hand gently, rubbing her gloved knuckles with his calloused thumb.
"My darlin' Alice." He murmured. Now she knew he must be further under than she thought. It tore at her heart to know she must pull away from his giant, surprisingly gentle hand, but she knew he needed his rest, and she hers.
"I'm going to let you sleep, now, Forrest." She said, softly. "I'll come back in the morning."
"Stay with me, my darlin'" he murmured, his voice a deep rumble.
Alice thought her heart would burst.
"I'm always with you, Forrest." She said. "I'm just going to my room to sleep. You scared me tonight, and I'm all out of sorts." She sighed, and gently brushed her soft, delicate lips against the back of his hand. She knew he'd probably remember none of this, so she didn't mind so much that she'd kissed him the way she had. She felt him let go of her hand reluctantly as she gently pulled away, and with a deep breath she made up her mind to go at that moment, or she never would. She moved the chair carefully back to it's place so as not to implicate her accomplice, the nurse who had seen her in. Then she paused for just a moment by the side of his bed, gently running her fingertips over the veins in the back of his left hand, which was still folded onto his chest. She turned, then, to go, and felt the ghost of Forrest's right hand as it moved faintly across the soft fabric of her dress, the gauzy silk organza rustling through his fingertips.
She cracked the door and finding the coast clear, slipped out of his room and into the hall. Her adrenaline rushing, she snuck out the entrance the nurse had showed her, and wound around the back of the hospital towards her hotel. The car she'd leave parked where it was. For now, all she needed was her warm bed, and the chance to close her eyes in the darkness and hear Forrest's deep voice play over in her mind as she lay bundled up in her nightgown. As she made her way inside, her eyes were only on the lights in the lobby, and the pattern of the rug leading upstairs. She hadn't noticed Special Deputy Rakes, standing in the window in the cover of the darkness of his room, staring at her as she slinked across the road and disappeared beneath him into the building.