...practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel...the art of losing isn't hard to master...
- Elizabeth Bishop
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"So what happens now?" The woman in the doorway paces in and out of it. She's making me nervous.
The nurse holds up her hands and clears her throat.
"Now what? What do we do?" The woman's pacing gets faster. I stare at her with a look of concern. She looks over at me. Her eyes are wet. "How is he gonna-" She looks away quickly when she notices me watching her. "Now what?" She repeats.
"I've spoken with his family. They're taking him home today- he's going to stay with them for a while. They're choosing to inform him at their discretion. It's best that he's in that atmosphere."
"But- but I-" Her worry is making me nauseous. Why is she so worried?
Inhaling, I squeeze my mom's hand. The squeeze wakes her from her daze- she'd been watching the woman too, nodding along in agreement with the nurse. She jumps a little and then pats my wrist.
"Hey hun." She smiles warmly but her face launches into a direct pinch of concern. "What's the matter?"
I still can't find a voice. I say, "What's going on?" But it doesn't work.
She makes a face, slightly leaning her ear to my mouth. "Hm? It's okay Mark, you can say something."
Nooo... I can't. I frown and cross my arms over my chest and sit back up against the pillow, pouting childishly. My mom wipes at the corners of her eyes with a tissue, and then folds it neatly, letting go of my hand to tuck it into her purse.
"Are you okay?" She surveys my face.
Well, I'm fine other than the fact that I'm in a fucking hospital bed, in a room full of people I don't know, and you're crying, I'm guessing over me. Oh, and that woman is pacing tracks in the floor and I'm about to throw up on you if she doesn't cut it out and my brain hurts and my leg is twitching and oh shit I have to stand up again!
I push the covers off of me, straining against the IV and the raucous warning beeps once more. That didn't stop me the first time. Holy shit I'm nervous. My mom jumps again, jolted out of another trance, and grabs my shaking arm. She yelps, "Oh!" and the nurse and the woman rush over to me and try to stand astride, pushing me backwards, but the big black guy hovering in the doorway steps between them and takes hold of my shoulders.
"Hey." He scolds. "You can't get up yet. You're so impatient sometimes. Wait until they release you, okay?" He's trying to be funny.
I look into his eyes with sheer terror and allow him to shove me to the mattress.
"Okay." I consent. To both our surprise, the word actually forms. It's scratchy and stressed, but it's my voice.
"The boy speaks!" The man cries. He looks like he wants to hug me. I push away, scooting back into the headboard. He looks a little offended at my timid reaction.
"Give him space…" The nurse whispers. The man obeys, distraught. The other man in the room comes over to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. My eyes dart back and forth from both of them. I cock my head and cock my eyebrow.
"Benny." It's not a question.
Benny takes his hand from the other guy's shoulder, looking up at me so quickly he could've broken his neck. "Mark." That's not a question either.
My mother beams at the nurse and the nurse beams back.
I eye the other man and proceed with caution. "Benny. Benny what's- why- what's going on?"
Benny looks bewildered. My heart booms in my throat. Why won't anyone explain anything to me? Why can't I remember how I ended up in this hospital? Benny looks to my mom for consent.
"Oh- wait!" I interrupt suddenly. "Roger-"
The other man inhales sharply and everyone in the room looks at everyone else in rotation, then eventually all eyes are back on me.
"Roger- the reunion show! He- Fillmore East, he was playing and then he fell- the paramedics- and then I was in the hallway waiting and I fainted because I panicked- but- but- I was- I wasn't-" I stop.
Wasn't I talking to Roger after that? I was in a hospital bed, yes, but not this one. I didn't need a medical bracelet or saline in my arm. He did. And we talked and then I went home. Didn't I?
"Where- where's Roger?" I begin to shiver. But I'm not even cold. Something is telling me to shiver.
Benny opens and closes his mouth like he's short on air. My mom shakes her head at him and pulls the covers up to my shoulders, rubbing my arms. "Honey, would you like to put on your glasses?"
I blink furiously. That's right, I need glasses. "Um, sure…" They're passed from the black woman on the windowsill, to the intimidating man, to Benny, to the pacing woman, to the nurse, to my mom, who slides them onto my face. Instantly my head feels a thousand times lighter.
I blink again and focus on the woman at the window. "M- Wh- Joanne!" My heart calms down a little at the sight of her, and she leaps up and strides over to the bedside. She looks at Benny triumphantly and he grins.
What was I talking about? I squint and think hard. Oh shit, what the fuck, I can't remember what I was just talking about! And why hasn't anyone told me why I'm in a God-damned hospital bed?
"Mom, what is going on?"
"Well…honey, we're going home really soon, okay?"
"Okay… but… ha ha, um, why are we here in the first place?" This was getting a little ridiculous.
"I'll explain on the way home all right? You're going to come back to Scarsdale and stay with me and dad for a while."
"Oh. Um… ookay... Does Roger know?"
She looks at the big black guy. He swallows an uneasy gulp and nods almost discreetly. My mom's voice cracks so she whispers. "Yes honey, he knows."
Doubt tugs at the corners of my mind. Why can't I recall that conversation with Roger? Were we fighting? Why was I coming home? Was it Christmas? No… it's late January. I think.
"What's the date today?"
"The day you go home!" A smiley man in a white surgeon's coat springs into the room, handing a clipboard to the nurse. "Let's get you unhooked and you're… well, home free!" He chuckles and scans the monitors.
"Did he have any problems?" He mumbles to the nurse out of the corner of his mouth.
"A little relapse about two minutes ago. But he put names to these two." She points to Joanne and Benny. I scowl at her. Well of course I did. They're my friends...
"Great, great…" He doctor trails off. There's a slight compression as the IV is pulled from my wrist, a cold dab of peroxide, a bandage, and then the doctor's out of the room.
The nurse fumbles in a cabinet for a second, coming up with a plastic bag full of my clothes and my shoes. She hands them to me and says, "If you think you're stable enough you can put these on and get ready to get on out of here!" She smiles and indicates the bathroom. "If you need help you can just give me a holler."
She's one gorgeous nurse. I laugh for a minute, in my head. Yeah, maybe I will need some help… from you… She's almost as pretty as-
"...Maureen!"
The pacing woman stops pacing.
"Mark!"
I grin, blushing that it took a hot nurse to make the connection that she was in the room. Had she been in here the whole time? I notice her staring at me as if she's expecting me to continue.
"Oh. Um… hi."
"Hi." Tears well up in her eyes and she steps over and hugs me full on, now that I'm standing. I pat her back, raising an eyebrow. "Um, nice to see you… too?"
She giggles and sniffs, grabbing Joanne's hand.
"Uh- I'm…I'm going to change then…"
Through the locked door I sort of overhear the conversation outside.
"He's making excellent progress. Usually retrogrades take up to two or three days before they can pull everything in."
"Oh thank goodness..." My mom sighs.
"There's also a downside to that though. He might remember some… things too quickly. He could have a memory relapse even as you're leaving the building. This is where you come in though Nancy. Just steady him and you can either tell him or change the subject… however you'd like to handle this. I suggest you take it slowly as possible-"
"Oh, I know…"
"And the only cause for concern that we can see is one of those fits. He's having… like, little mini- panic attacks. The frontal lobe- the part of the brain that controls emotions- was not as damaged as the temporal lobe. The right side of his brain is processing his feelings too quickly for the left side. He can remember the emotion, but not its source, so he'll suddenly feel anxious or even," She lowers her voice. "Suicidal- seemingly out of nowhere. Monitor him. Comfort him. Whatever it takes."
"Oh God." Maureen sobs.
Someone clears their throat. "Um, wh- why hasn't he remembered me yet?"
"It just… takes time. I'm really very sorry sir. There's nothing we can do about that. It's up to him now…"
"Aw, Coll- he'll remember…"
"I know, I know… Oh God. Maureen why would he do this? Mark wouldn't do this! Aw, fuck!"
There's a loud 'clang!'
"Collins, calm down."
"No, you calm down. There is too much shit happening, I swear to fucking God! I want to overdose on fucking Prozac too! Bitch had the right idea…"
"Tom!" My mom screams. A door slams. It's quiet. I'm done changing.
I peek out slowly. Joanne and the bigger man are gone. My mom is crying and Maureen is holding her shoulders. Benny is biting his lip and punching in some numbers on his cell phone.
They look up as I exit.
"Are you ready to go honey?" My mom asks quickly. Her voice cracks on the word 'go', and 'honey' is just a movement of her lips. Her eyes look like they're going to fall from her head in a waterfall of tears, and she waivers where she stands. I'd been uprooted and severely phased by that conversation two seconds ago, but just the look on her face- pure devastation- causes me to become far more concerned with her well-being than my own.
"Mom, what's the matter? Are you okay? Do you think you can make it home? Do you-" The next part comes out slower. "...want me to drive?"
My brow wrinkles and I find myself falling to the bed. Why did that sound familiar? Was I having deja vu? Someone previous to this wasn't secure enough to drive. Was it me? Was that why I was here? Had I been in a car crash? A concussion? Shit, I'm tired…
I stand slowly, yawning.
"No Mark, I can make it home."
For the first time in my mother's life, she fakes a smile. And for the first time in my life I'm too disoriented to catch that little detail.
"Oh, okay good." I smile back. "Let's go home then."