Do not fret! The conclusion is near. Sorry in
advance, this is a short chapter.
Read on:
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Chapter 28
Concerning item #5: The Key Around His Neck 18 (continued)
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Darkness was the only thing Spot knew for a single moment, which to the time of the real world was actually equal to two days. When the first of the light reached his eyes, he found himself in a room of white, with a light above him as bright as heaven's glow, which is exactly what Spot thought it was.
When his focus came, he realized it was an overhead bulb, and that the room of white was indeed a hospital row. The pain in his stomach told him that he was a patient.
When rational thoughts came, they fell immediately to Cat's well being. He grabbed at the first nurse that passed, and demanded information.
"Where is Cat?" he spat out desperately. "The girl I came with— is she okay?"
The young nurse seemed confused.
"Sir, I'm afraid I don't know whom you are speaking of," she replied calmly.
"Don't pull that! The girl— I carried her from Brooklyn Bridge all the way to the front of this hospital. Tell me right now, where is she?"
The nurse was even more confused now.
"Sir, that's not possible. Your condition— you could never have been able to carry yourself that far, much less a whole other person."
"But I did. And you know how I know I did? Because I was there!"
Spot jumped out of the bed, forcing through his pains, to stand.
"Outta my way. If you ain't gonna tell me where she is, I'll find her myself. I know she's here."
"Sir!"
Spot walked as fast as he could through the injuries, his determination giving him added strength.
"Sir!" the nurse called after him.
"What is that patient doing out of bed?" a nearby doctor asked the nurse.
"I tried to tell him, sir, but he's insistent."
"Get him under control, now," the doctor commanded.
"Yes, sir."
Then Spot turned a corner and beyond earshot of the doctor and nurse. He had no intention of going back in that bed anytime soon.
There were rows and rows of beds, which reminded Spot that this was a war hospital, though thankfully wars were only on the streets nowadays. The beds were almost all empty, in every room he looked, and no face matched the one he was desperately searching for. He grabbed at every nurse he saw, asking around for Cat, but no one seemed to know who she was.
Finally, on the bottom floor, he asked the receptionist, who gave him an answer worthwhile.
"I remember you, and the young girl," she replied. "I was the one who opened the door to your persistent knocking, and found you both collapsed on the front stoop. It nearly put me in a hospital bed myself, from the shock."
"But where's the girl who came with me?" Spot pressed.
"That I don't know. They sent her on the third floor, I think."
"I was just there," Spot said, shaking his head. "She wasn't in any of the rooms…"
Spot saw some nurses and a large burly doctor coming toward him rather hurriedly. No doubt they were here to send him back to his bed.
"Then I'm afraid she must not be here, sir," the receptionist said regrettably. "Third floor is where all of our unidentified patients go."
"Then maybe she was identified. Can you look in your files for a Catherine… Catherine anything. Please."
"I'll try, sir," she replied, just as the doctors grabbed Spot and pulled him away. Spot went willingly.
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Spot laid in bed, staring at the ceiling above him, his will to live fading. In all the times he had lost Cat, never had he lost her for good. Was this truly the end? He had given up so much for her… and would he ever get to enjoy the rewards of what he had chosen?
"Sir?" the nurse he had first met came over to him, bearing a large stack of folders. "The receptionist told me to give you these. She said you're free to look through them and see if your friend is in one of them. They are all the Catherines we have ever had on record."
Spot took them gratefully, and immediately flipped one open.
"Tell her thanks and she'll have them back in no time."
"Certainly, sir."
Spot glanced over the papers, reading from top to bottom of every page, everything from of eye color to medical conditions, looking for brown eyes, brown hair, and stab injuries first, then realized the nurse was still standing by him. He looked back up her with a confused expression.
"Something you wanted to say?"
"What is this girl to you?" she asked. "Sister? Girlfriend?"
Spot glared at the nurse harshly, knowing exactly what she was getting at.
"Is it customary for nurses to hit on their patients?"
"I just wondered," she said defensively.
"Sure," Spot said doubtfully. "She's my future wife, if you insist on being nosy."
The nurse nodded and walked off, as if offended. Spot smirked. A while ago he would've jumped on the chance to flirt with a pretty nurse like that. It wasn't like they had far to go—after all, he was already in bed!
But that part of him had died a long time ago. The desire for any other woman had left him. No other woman could make him feel the way Cat did. No other woman ever would again.
And that's why he needed to find her. To have some closure, at the very least. Was she even alive? Not knowing seemed worse than knowing, at this point.
Page after page of each file, nothing was even close. There was only about ten files or so, so he got through them rather quickly, but each one failed him. Not one was even close.
Spot threw the files on the floor in frustration. God, he missed her already. So much that it hurt more than his physical pains.
The unknown hurt. It hurt a lot.
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Poor Spot. Will he ever just find the girl and kiss her already? It's even eating me up. What about you? Review, tell me all about it.
Signed,
--RedRogue
