10 – State of Uncertainty
You know that fuzzy state between sleep and wake, when you can hear everything around you but, for some reason, you simply can't move?
It reminded me of being in a coma. Theorists say that coma patients can hear when someone is talking to them but don't remember afterwards. It's not so much that we don't remember; the experience is more like a shadow in the sub conscience, a vague feeling of something familiar. A mental itch, if you will, that you can't scratch. Bloody irritating.
I remember walking out of the woods with Henry and Walt's help because truck wouldn't fit up the trail. I remember telling Walt about being lured by Niko, and about the two other men who had been with Mica on the first day. I remember Vic and Ferg walking in front of us with Sugar, Ferg angrily venting that this was no way to treat someone who had done so much – and with Veteran's Day so close. I remember getting to the bottom of the path and thinking, "Where's my car?"
The town's two ambulances were responding to a car accident on the other side of the county, so Walt lowered the tailgate of his truck, and Henry spread a blanket. Sugar wanted to jump in with me, and her big brown eyes showed disappointment at being told "no". Lester, who was part of the search team, would take her to Henry's, and Yvonne and the children would meet him there.
I remember Henry speaking to me while Walt's siren wailed as we sped down the highway, and somewhere along the route all went blank.
I shuddered, gasping for breath. My brain a drug-induced fuzzy, struggling to analyze where I was. The covers were warm and soft. The mask on my face was familiar – sweet oxygen flowed comfortably into my pained lungs. Nairobi. I was in Nairobi. I'd been shot. That's it. The Swiss cheese effect. Brain and body. I carefully wiggled my fingers and toes. Yup. They worked. Lucky me. I shifted to the left and gasped as pain blasted through my ribs.
"She's waking up." I heard a soft voice, felt someone gently touch my arm. "Get the nurse."
"Julia." Tender fingers brushed the hair from my forehead. "I am glad you are waking up."
There was movement in the room, and the gentle fingers were replaced with efficient hands of medical staff: pulse, pupil response, bandages checked.
"Do you know where you are?" the nurse asked as the doctor strode in.
I swallowed trying to wet my parched mouth. "Nairobi." My voice was a raspy whisper.
The doctor stepped into my blurred view, a chart in his left hand "How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked.
"One," was my correct response.
"Do you remember what happened?" he questioned.
"Shot. Insurgents," I muttered. "Where's my team?"
He pressed his lips together and took a quick glance over his shoulder to the man patiently standing against the wall. "They're alright," he reassured tapping my arm and testing some reflexes. "Rest. I'll be back to check on you again."
In the hallway outside of the room, Henry worriedly gazed at Dr. Jack Warner, the five-ten, forty-something, trauma specialist who had been recommended by Mount Sinai in the summer. Henry had met him once before in an "in case of emergency" meeting.
"She does not remember. Is this normal?" he searched for answers.
"Actually. Yes," the doctor replied. "She's had multiple traumatic experiences in her life. It's not unusual, in this state, for her to confuse a past one with the present one. She's actually pretty lucky."
Henry's brows furrowed. Lucky? He wouldn't call getting the stuffing beat out of you lucky.
Dr. Warner's lips twitched up pleasantly, understanding the confusion. "The blindfold protected her eyes and part of her cheekbones from any severe damage or bruising, and the gag protected her teeth. She had a few loose ones but no broken or knocked out ones. Broken nose and two cracked ribs. Cuts and bruises. There's a solid boot print on her back, but no internal bleeding. She protected her old injuries well. I'm not sure how. It could have been a lot worse. Plus, you said she walked for, what 30 minutes, and spoke to you on the ride here. She was coherent. She fell unconscious, not into a coma. Ya, I'd say she's lucky."
Henry pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. "I suppose you are right." He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. "Will she remember?"
The doctor placed his hand on Henry's shoulder. "She'll remember," he reassured. "Just give it some time. She's on some pretty heavy meds right now."
"She hates pain killers." Henry glanced over his shoulder and back into the room.
Dr. Warner smiled. "I know. She told me. But, she's been on some pretty strong ones in the past year, and she was finally weaning herself off. We had to hit her with a high dose, because she's built a tolerance for them."
Henry nodded. Julia would rather struggle through the pain, most days, than take the meds. She'd say: your body can't heal if it can't feel what's wrong.
It was dark outside. The room was dim, only a light from the hall glowed through the partially open door. It was quiet, too, except for the annoying beep of the heart monitor by my side. I stirred, gritting my teeth against the stiffness in my back and sides.
"Welcome back." A low voice moved to the edge of the bed. "Shall I call the doctor?"
"No," I groaned, blinking at the man before me. "Any major damage?" I asked.
"Define major." His smile was sweet and kind. Pulling a chair to the side of the bed, he sat and took my hand in his. "The doctor says you are lucky. I believe him."
I snorted, my lips turning up in amusement. "Ya. Me and my lucky streak."
He reached to brush the tear from the corner of my eye. "Your eyes are leaking." He smiled.
"Really? I'm not crying." My brow furrowed.
"No. Tough girl. An involuntary response. It could be from any number of things." He brushed his fingers lightly over my bruised cheek. "I do not think I have ever been that frightened or that angry in my life. I am very glad that you are alright."
"Me, too. Any idea how long I have to stay?"
"No. I guess that depends on you. The doctor will return in the morning. I think I should let the nurse know that you are awake, though."
I nodded as he rose. "How are the others?" I asked as he reached the door.
"What others?"
"It was so chaotic. Rapid fire. How many others went down?"
Henry swallowed hard. "You were the worst," he replied, playing along. "The others have been released."
I breathed a sigh of relief as I drifted off again. "Good."
He was slumped awkwardly in a metal hospital chair: his elbows resting on the arms, his fingers laced across his lap, knees spread apart as if to stop himself from sliding onto the floor. His chin rested on his red flannel clad chest, dark bangs flopped across his forehead and over his closed eyes. His breathing was steady.
I'd been watching him for a while now, this handsome man with red-gold skin and wide brow. Every time I opened my eyes, he was there: talking to me in such a low, steady voice that could calm the most skittish animal, long fingers gently touching my hand curiously sending my heart fluttering, now sleeping, propped uncomfortably in a metal framed chair that looked like it had seen Nixon's era.
A nurse quietly eased into the room, the hall outside was lit but silent.
I raised my finger to my lips – shhh, and tipped my chin to the sleeping man.
She grinned and nodded, taking my wrist in her cold hand, reading my pulse. She quickly checked the other vitals then slipped back out, closing the door to within a crack.
I gazed out the window at the brightening sky; steel grey illuminated with pale orange and yellow streaks. Early morning. Maybe six. How long had I been asleep? I wondered.
I carefully took stock of my injuries, wiggling my jaw, tentatively touching my face – cheeks, chin, nose, eyes. I could feel butterfly bandages on my left side lower lip and another on my left eyebrow, a larger strip over my nose which was completely congested. By the feel on the swelling, it would be like that for a while. I took a slow, deep breath testing the capacity of my lungs and gritted my teeth at the restriction on the left again. Wow, I thought. All left. I must have rolled onto my right side to protect it. I bent my knees up and lowered them, no problem there, then wiggled my hips as best as I could in a prone position. No problems there, either. I smiled to myself. I probably look like hell but at least I was in one piece.
My eyes drifted around the room. It was pretty plain: white walls, one window, no adornments: single bed, one occupied chair, small shelf by the window over a single drawer, a pile of clothes of the shelf, monitors to my left. I snickered. Left again… At least I retained a sense of humor.
Life began out in the hall, and the man stirred, eyes struggling open, long arms stretching forward, back stiffly straightening. A jaw-cracking yawn.
"Good morning, Handsome." I smiled as best as I could from my slightly propped position.
He carefully rose and took two strides to the bed. "Good morning." He smiled down at me, fingers cautiously brushing my forehead. "How do you feel?"
"Like I've been hit by a truck," I deadpanned. "How do you feel?" I grinned. "That chair didn't look very comfortable."
He shook his head slowly, eyes soft. "I do not care. I was not going anywhere."
We gazed at each other in a silent moment, a shared warmth of relief.
"I should go get the nurse. Tell them that you are awake." He took a step back toward the door.
"Henry," I quietly called. "She already knows."
At the sound of his name, Henry's heart leapt. She remembered. Returning to the bedside, he bent to envelop me as best as he could in his arms.
Reaching my right arm up, I returned the hug, caressing his face. "I love you," I breathed.
"I love you, too." He kissed the end of my nose.
Ethan and Samantha popped in, as did Kelly before heading to the Red Pony to open for the day. Anita arrived with Lester and Yvonne around noon for a few minutes. Ferg showed up with a balloon and flowers. Even Mathias made an appearance in the mid-afternoon with a profusely apologizing and despondent Niko in tow.
Each visit was short, but my heart swelled. I belonged. No matter what Mica said, how he treated me, what he did, I belonged.
Dr. Warner scheduled me for another series of tests to make sure everything was alright and said that as long as I kept it easy, I could probably go home the following day. Home. Yes! I grinned at Henry.
At the end of the day, just as I was trying to convince Henry to go home and get some decent sleep, Walt arrived with another visitor.
"Sorry we couldn't get here sooner. Had to bend some rules." Walt's lips twitched up as he stepped in.
I didn't think my heart could fill much more until I saw Sugar by his side.
"Baby Girl!" I cried, reaching my hand over the edge of the bed from my half-sitting position.
Walt let her harness go, and Sugar bolted to the bed putting her front paws on the edge, tail wagging a mile a minute, whining and licking, happy to see me.
"Oh, Baby Girl," I cooed again trying to get my hands all over my dog. "Sweet girl. I owe you a lot. I'll be home tomorrow. Yes, I will. I miss you." I beamed at Walt. "Thank you."
He nodded his reply. "Out tomorrow?" he clarified to Henry.
Henry beamed. "Yes. I will take her home."