IN THE TIME WE HAVE, Chapter 13
Lara had just finished tying her bootlaces when the door to her room swung open. Her attending physician, an older African-American woman she knew as Dr. Weldon strolled into the room without looking up, instead flipping pages on a clipboard and shaking her head. Lara could almost hear the mental tsk tsk's.
The archaeologist sat quietly on the bed and waited for the inevitable harangue. She'd been through it often enough to almost script the upcoming exchange.
The woman flipped the overhanging papers back against the clipboard. "We received your medical records this morning," she began, pulling a stool and taking a seat directly opposite the brunette. "Frankly, Lara, I have to admit to being a little shocked. Now I didn't come here to lecture you, however –"
"Thank you," interjected the archaeologist in the vain hope of avoiding the inevitable.
"– I have to ask, are you some sort of thrill-seeker or something? This list –" she held up her clipboard as a makeshift Exhibit A, "– is honestly frightening. Multiple concussions, countless lacerations, festering wounds, broken bones, infections –"
"I know my history," returned Lara.
Dr. Weldon slowly nodded and slid the clipboard onto the wall cabinet. "I'm sure you do," she said quietly. "Point is, the list is almost endless…and that's only what's been documented. What are you, twenty-four?"
Lara nodded discomfortingly. She hated being analyzed. Months of so-called 'therapy' after Yamatai had done nothing to subdue the dark shadows lingering in her memory.
The woman looked at her with an odd mixture of awe and impatience. "You keep this up," she continued, "And I highly doubt you'll reach thirty."
"I'll keep that under advisement," replied the brunette, fidgeting nervously. She wasn't interested in getting into another argument with a medical practitioner. She'd tell the doctor the absolute minimum, give up the least possible ammunition to use against her - all she wanted was to leave, as quickly as could be managed. The only reason she hadn't already stormed out of the room was the promise she'd made Elsie. She'd have to do this the hard way.
"I'm serious, Lara," said the physician. "There's more trauma listed here than I've seen for professional athletes. Football linebackers would cringe if they saw this, for heaven's sake…"
"It's an…occupational hazard," said Lara.
The woman's analytical gaze unsettled the brunette. "And what 'occupation' might that be?"
Lara's jaw clenched. She remained silent – delving into the details of her life's passion almost never found understanding ears.
The woman sighed. "I see," she said. She leaned forward and clasped her hands between her knees. There was no severity in the woman's gaze, only concern.
"Lara, I'm going to ask you just one question," she began. "And I'd like you to be honest with me."
The archaeologist looked at her. "Then can I go?"
The woman nodded slowly. "Yes," she said. "Then you can go."
"Fine."
The woman stared at Lara in silence for an uncomfortably long moment before finally posing her query.
"Do you have a death wish?"
The Englishwoman blinked. "What? No!"
"You're sure about that?"
"Yes!" blurted Lara. "Quite the opposite, actually."
"Well, then why –"
"You said one question, Doctor," interrupted the brunette.
The woman's mouth hung open in mid-sentence.
"Look," she resumed, "I'm only trying to help you….you've already suffered multiple concussions, and they're cumulative, Lara. Eventually you'll incur one that could prove crippling, perhaps even permanently. And in your case I'm worried that it may only be a matter of time."
"Thank you for your concern," said Lara, sliding off the bed. "May I go?"
The woman stared at her, shaking her head slowly. "This goes against my better judgement, but…yes, fine. I can't help you if you won't let me."
"Thank you."
A resigned look. "I'll have your release ready in a few minutes."
Lara breathed an inward sigh of relief.
"Just remember what I said about taking it easy for the next six weeks," said Dr. Weldon as Lara moved for the door. "A hairline compression fracture of the lumbar is no laughing matter."
"I'll take that –"
"- under advisement," finished the woman in frustration. "Right."
Lara exited the room and strode down the hall, doing her best to ignore the looks she was garnering from both staff and patients; in her battered attire she knew she must have made quite a sight.
But at least she was free.
She made her way to Elsie's room, knocking on the doorframe before peering inside.
Elsie was sitting on the edge of her bed, still clad in her hospital gown and reading a magazine.
"Hey," said the blonde, looking Lara up and down. "You're…um…'dressed'…"
Lara nodded as she entered the room. "She's writing my release as we speak …she wasn't overly keen, of course, but…"
"Herding cats, right?"
Lara smiled as she pushed herself onto the bed next to the blonde.
"What about you?" asked the archaeologist. "Hasn't your physician come by yet?"
"Ugh…yeah," said Elsie, her shoulders sagging. "They want to keep me another fourty-eight hours, can you believe it…"
"What? Why?"
"They wanna run some tests," said Elsie, rolling her eyes, tossing the magazine aside. "Keep me under observation in case of infection, of all things…I just know they'll wanna stick needles in me, the vampires…"
"Bugger…"
"You said it," said Elsie miserably, raising her foot and letting it drop against the metal frame of the bed. "God I hate hospitals…"
Lara ran her fingers through her friend's dishevelled mane, carefully smoothing out the tangles. "Have you called your mum yet?"
"No!" blurted the blonde surprisingly forcefully. "And I won't."
"What?" asked the brunette, surprised. "Elsie, you have to tell her about this."
"Tell her what?" returned the American. "That I was out hiking and just happened to get shot by some sort of secret cult, but everything's fine? Mom's a terrible worrier, Lara, she'll just hear the word 'shot' and won't listen beyond that point. She'll come rushing over from Oregon in a panic…no, I won't put her through that."
Lara frowned. "I think you keep entirely too much from her."
Elsie sighed. "I explained why I didn't tell her about that shit, remember?"
"But surely she wouldn't blame herself for this –"
"Look, I'll tell her next time we're together, all right?" said the blonde. "I just don't want her to panic, Lara, that's all. Which is what she definitely would do if she found out right now…if I tell her when we're together, she'll see I'm perfectly safe and sound, so…"
"Well, I'm staying here, then," said the archaeologist.
The American looked at her, her pale eyebrows raised.
"What, you gonna camp out in my room for the next two days, Bear Grylls style?"
"Or until your release," clarified the brunette. "Whichever comes first."
Elsie flopped her head against the archaeologist's shoulder. "Girl, you don't have to do that, she said, smiling. "Besides you're not a patient now, they'd kick you out as soon as visiting hours were over."
"I'd like to see them try," said Lara darkly.
"To be honest, I'd be curious to see that too," chuckled the blonde. "Good thing we're already in a hospital, at least they could get quick treatment, huh…"
"I'd try and limit it to sprains and bruises," stated the Englishwoman. "No promises, though."
Elsie giggled. "No, you won't," she said, snuggling closer. "You'll stay at my place, nacht."
"You're daft," said Lara. "I'm not going to leave you in this –"
"You're not leaving me," corrected the blonde. "You'll just be minding the store for a couple of days. Don't forget we were supposed to be back yesterday, and, well, I'm starting to worry about my plants…"
Lara turned to look at her companion. "You're in hospital recovering from a gunshot wound," she said incredulously, "And you're worried about your sodding plants?"
"They're lovely plants!" explained the American. "My landlord won't allow pets, Lara, so, plants for me. They have wonderful therapeutic value, I'll have you know. But some of them will need watering soon…guess you're not much of a green thumb, are you?"
"But…I can't just…"
Elsie slipped off the bed. Turning to face her companion, she straddled her legs around Lara's waist as she sat on the brunette's thighs. She wrapped her arms around the archaeologist's neck and shoulders and gazed into her friend's eyes, sitting so close that the tips of their noses lightly brushed against each other.
"Do this for me, okay," she whispered. "It'll give me something to look forward to while I'm cooped up in this bloodsucking gulag…"
Lara swallowed deeply; she was cognisant of the various patients and staff drifting by the open doorway, but she was losing herself in the crystal-like depths of the blonde's pale grey eyes.
"Please?" said Elsie softly, giving the brunette her frustratingly-difficult-to-resist puppy-eyed look. "With Jaffa cakes on top?"
Lara sighed.
"You play dirty, Miss Trainor," whispered the archaeologist.
Elsie smiled as she leaned in.
"Yeah, I do," breathed the blonde. "But just you wait 'til I get home…"
-oOo-
Lara locked the door to Elsie's car and strode up the walkway, glancing about nervously as she went. She was acutely conscious of her appearance: in her torn, filthy and bloodied clothing, she was certain to make quite an impression on any observers – mostly an alarming one.
She fumbled through Elsie's keychain, managing to unlock the door on her second try. She dashed inside and locked the door behind her.
She stood in the tiny landing; Elsie's flat was just as she'd remembered it from the previous week - small, cluttered and altogether cozy, with a vaguely Bag-Endish vibe. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed, she noted with relief. Trinity seemed to believe Elsie was an incidental acquaintance of hers, an assumption she was hopeful would continue. The only members of the organization who knew different now lay dead in an ancient tomb in northwestern Maine.
It felt odd being in Elsie's flat without her companion; she almost felt like an intruder, even though she'd come at the blonde's insistence.
Maybe if she made herself useful…
She picked up the mail beneath the door's letterbox slot and stacked it neatly on the small end table.
Okay, first things first...
She entered the kitchenette in search of whatever Elsie used to water her plants; finding nothing immediately obvious, she rummaged through the cabinets until she found a large glass measuring cup - it would do well enough.
A few minutes later and she was reasonably sure she'd hydrated her companion's flora to her satisfaction. She had no green thumb, as the American had surmised – she'd used roughly the same amount of water for each and crossed her fingers she hadn't drowned anything.
She made her way down the short hall. She desperately needed a shower.
It was when she stepped into the small bathroom that she remembered the one true luxury with which Elsie had managed to equip her tiny home: a large freestanding cast iron and porcelain bath tub.
Paradise. She hoped it might even temporarily relieve the knife-like pain in her lower back.
"Elsie, I love you…"
She made her way to the American's study and took out some fresh clothes from her duffel bag, tossing her shredded garments into the trash. Rummaging through the bottom of the canvas sack, she fished out her phone, intensely grateful she'd left it behind for the hike. She quickly browsed her messages.
A week-old text from Sam: Have fun! ;)
Another from Kaz: Got the Tibetan itinerary you guys were waiting for – ttyl!
A few automated messages reminding her of subscription renewals.
Another from her uncle, no doubt further haranguing about her choice of "irresponsible" career. She skipped over it and closed the messaging app.
No voicemail. Perfect.
She'd have to talk to Kaz once she got back. Somehow Trinity were anticipating her plans; the most likely possibility was some sort of computer or phone hack. Given her history with the organization, Lara was certain Alex's sister wouldn't stop until she'd sealed the electronic breach, wherever it lay.
She set her phone down on Elsie's desk; a hand's breadth away lay a small leather journal.
She eyed the tiny book curiously.
I shouldn't…I really shouldn't…
Lara's fingers trailed across the worn cover.
She swallowed in anticipation. What might she find therein?
There was something oddly compelling about the blonde. On one hand she was an open book, and yet Lara had the distinct feeling her friend maintained parts of her past deeply buried within herself – given what the brunette already knew about the young woman's life, she shuddered at what that might entail.
She stood there for what seemed like interminable moments; she was an explorer, after all.
But this…
She tried to internally justify her curiosity. She might be able to help, after all…
At that moment her eyes drifted to a tiny card propped up against the base of Elsie's computer monitor. She leaned closer and read the inscription:
Love you always,
Lara
Her heart wrenched as she bit her lip.
She lightly tapped the leather, twice. And I always will…
And left the room.
