Chapter Four

Jess stared at the ceiling. It was really all that he could do. Staring at the floor was impossible, as he couldn't get up. He did lock his eyes to the walls now and then, but as that prompted a difficult shift of his body, he remained on his back. And stared at the ceiling. He might turn loco if this scene wasn't traded off for darkness. As it was, they rarely let him waken.

"You're a sick man, Mr. Harper," said Nurse Whatever-Her-Name-Was during a brief moment of Jess' eyelashes being raised. "Oblivion is the best place to heal in."

Since Jess couldn't answer with his voice, he chose to argue the point by keeping his lips sealed. He felt rather smug, waiting for laudanum's entry via spoon. Jess was already preparing the hard line to leap into a smile when the tight, gray knot at the back of the woman's head started popping frazzled hairs when she couldn't make Jess swallow the bitter medicine. But it would be her that would don the grin. Without even seeing the needle coming, every line of Jess' face pinched when the sharp point went into his arm and she pressed the medicine into his bloodstream.

"Morphine," she said, more to his furrowed brow than any part of his angry response. "You're a sick man, Mr. Harper."

So she had already said. At first Jess knew better. Bullet holes weren't an illness. They were merely an intrusion into flesh, and once set free by a doctor's probe, the patient was headed for recovery. He wasn't sick, maybe stuck abed for awhile, but he wasn't sick.

Jess didn't know when his opinion began to change. Time died when he was placed in a hospital bed. Even the light coming through the window didn't help him discern how many days and nights he had been stuck in an all-white prison. It was during one of the lighter versions of timelessness that Jess started to feel the part of an ailing man. With every arousal, Jess felt sicker. At this very moment, he was miserable. His head wandering against his pillow, he couldn't even stare at the ceiling anymore. That would have been a good thing if his vision wasn't starting to blur everything away. Hot, the fingers of Jess' left hand tugged at the blanket that covered him. But then a moment later, suddenly cold, Jess' teeth rattled inside of his tight jaw.

Pain also leaping to an unfathomable level, Jess wanted to crawl from his skin, but he couldn't escape. He couldn't escape from anything.

Dadgummit, I can't take much more of this! Ain't anybody out there? I need help. I need Slim.

Jess jumped when a hand touched his forehead. Slim?

Now the hand rested against the bandage that covered his cheek.

Slim, help me. Get me outta this. The pain made him sit straight up, seemingly unseeing, unknowing. But Jess could see, he did know how severely his body throbbed. He just didn't know who had a hold of him. It was the hands, unfamiliar hands, pushing him back down that let the sunrise into his brain to know that it wasn't Slim. It wasn't Slim. He was gone.

Jess narrowed his eyes to quell the black-dotted blur. Oh. It's the doc.

"He's got a fever. High by the way he feels."

Dadgum. Tell me you ain't gonna feed me more medicine.

"Easy, Mr. Harper. Flailing won't help."

I ain't. You're holding me down. But I reckon that tells me how weak I've got. You look too spindly to be able to keep my muscles bound.

The doctor's hands beginning to probe, he inserted his fingers along the bandage of Jess' chest. "I want to know where it hurts."

How should I know? You keep pumping me with poison. If you want me to hurt, lemme hurt.

"Mr. Harper. I know you have to feel something. You have an infection. It could be in your chest, your arm, your hand."

You forgot my throat. Dadgum, it's on fire.

"Mr. Harper, point to where it hurts the worse."

Maybe he should have thanked the doctor for keeping his body pinned down. The way he recoiled when he tried to move his right hand would have sent him straight through the ceiling if not held in check. How long was it going to take him to remember his right hand didn't work anymore? Since the doctor kept staring at his face, he obviously didn't believe the only pain was in his hand. Jess' left thumb coming away from the blanket, he waved it once toward his neck.

"Your throat?" Doctor Ingram's finger slid underneath the bandage. "Uh-huh. I can feel the heat coming from it. Let me take this off and I'll take a look inside."

Jess' hand slapped away the doctor's touch. Leave it be.

"Mr. Harper, I have to look. It's been a week. There should have been healing taking place by now. If you let me look at it, I'll be able to tell what's going on by any swelling inside."

So that's how long I've been here. Dadgum. If I was at home I'd be back on my feet by now, swinging an axe, changing teams, hollering for Daisy to fill my plate up with another serving of steak and potatoes. And pie. Can't forget my second slice of apple pie. Dadgummed hospital that don't know how to fix me proper.

"Ease up, Mr. Harper and let me take a look inside."

Jess' fingers held onto the wrist. You ain't gonna cut my throat.

"Mr. Harper. I can put you under at anytime, you know. Please spare yourself another shot and let me examine you."

Well, if you're gonna threaten, do it right. Put a gun to my chest, that sorta thing. Most men like me are more obliging that way.

"Please, Mr. Harper."

Any other time and Jess would push the doc into a corner and storm straight through the door. But Jess was too weak to fight back, he couldn't even grip the doctor's wrist any longer and with the fluttering fall of his lashes, his hand dropped to the top of the sheet.

Fine. Look me over. Tell me I'm the worst case of whatever this is that you've ever seen.

"Thank you," Doctor Ingram said and then peeled away the bandage to look inside Jess' neck. "Hmmm."

Now that explains a lot. Can't you docs say what you're seeing instead of humming up a foreboding tune?

"There's too much swelling of the skin to get a good view inside. Redder than it should be, too. Does it feel hot to you?"

Jess nodded. My whole head does. Does that mean something?

"Makes me wonder if all of the fragments are out. Your doctor back home said a piece of a stick was lodged inside your neck. I can't imagine how that'd happen."

Then you ain't never seen how well a bullet can splinter wood. Musta shot me just as hard as lead woulda done. Probably some dirt went with it. Did you think about that?

"There could also be some debris inside. Dirt and the like."

Dadgum, maybe I oughta be a doctor. Wouldn't I look great, dressed in all white? Doctor Harper. Whatta racket!

"Whatever is in there, that's where the infection is located. I can even smell it."

That ain't good. Dadgum. Why'd you have to go and examine me? I'm really starting to feel sick. Doc? What's happening to me?

"Nurse, alert Doctor Woodruff. Mr. Harper needs to be in surgery immediately."

Dadgum. What'd you say? Surgery? Immediately? I take it back. I feel fine. Prop me up and I'll breathe better. Gimme some coffee and a full plate. That's all I need, I'm sure.

Feeling the resistance underneath his palms, Doctor Ingram came within inches of Jess' face. "I'm going to be blunt, Mr. Harper. If your throat continues to swell, you won't be able to breathe. You'll die."

You ain't just scaring me, are you? Dadgum, why can't I hold my head up anymore?

"Mr. Harper." He patted a hand along Jess' cheek to bring the sliver of blue back. "Don't nod off. Stay with me."

You ain't joshing me. Dadgum. Don't let me die without Slim here, all right? Get Slim. Please, get Slim. I don't wanna die like this. I don't wanna… die…

.:.

He didn't.

There was a fog with a darker mist than its usual gray surrounding Jess' being, but even among the darkness, Jess knew he hadn't stepped into the beyond. Blinking the shrouded layer away, Jess squinted into something other than a white ceiling. There was brightness, color, and a pair of men. They were standing over him, talking, frowning, now talking again. One Jess recognized as Ingram, the other was a mystery, although he could put the same label on him. They were dressed exactly alike.

Just what I didn't need. Another doc, sticking his nose into the contents of my health. Dadgum.

The unnamed man adjusted the glasses so they didn't drop off the tip of his nose. "What's your honest opinion, Ingram?"

"I was really hoping his voice might recover. Now that I've done more than look at the larynx, but actually have touched the vocal chords, the damage is too severe. He'll never talk again."

"I'm not in full agreement with that. The current hindrance is the infection. We got the dirt and the last fragments of wood out. Let's just give him time to see."

I like whoever this other fella is better. Kinda got grit in the back of his throat, like I did before all this surgery stuff.

"But Woodruff, the damage can't be undone!"

Ah. I remember now. Ingram wanted Woodruff alerted about me going back under. Good thing. Ingram sounds like he'd rather argue his point into the ground instead of trusting the abilities of my body. Come on, Woodruff. Give him something in return.

"Look, Ingram, I'm coming from experience. I've seen stabs to the throat before. There was a boy in the war that had the tip of a bayonet in the very same place. He was whispering within a month and shouting within two."

"That may be, Doctor. But from what I can see, Harper will never speak again."

Dadgum.

"If he ever gains a whisper, there's hope."

Dadgum, so there is hope?

"He won't."

I prefer Woodruff's way of thinking. Shut up, Ingram. I'd rather listen to Woodruff. He's got more gray hair, so that means he's seen more patients than your brown crop has. Well, Woodruff, surely you ain't outta fight. Woodruff? Dadgum, do I gotta do everything myself?

Seeing what should have been an unconscious patient's hand start to rise, Nurse Mueller's fingers raced toward her throat to stifle her scream. "Doctor Ingram! He's awake!"

Both doctors spun toward the man below them, but it was Woodruff's hands that returned the rising body to the bed. "How can anyone fight off chloroform like that?"

Easy. Just be dadgummed stubborn like me.

"Put him back under, quick!"

Don't! I wanna hear what you gotta say about the rest of me. What about my hand? Doc Woodruff, do you got any hope for my hand?

But when Jess took another breath, every light went out.

.:.

Jess' next wakening came easier. The clouds not as thick, he didn't have to fight through the mist to see shape, to recognize color. Although in one blink, Jess realized there really wasn't much to this side of consciousness anyway. Jess was back in his all-white room, staring at the ceiling. He sighed, and in the pushing out of the heavy breath, a pair of shoes clopped against the floor to reach his side.

"Mr. Harper, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

Dadgum. Jess winced, pushing away the cold stethoscope that rested over his heart. I ain't used to all this poking and prodding. Keep your gadgets to yourself.

With a shrug of Doctor Ingram's shoulders, a pair of fingers pressed into Jess' left wrist. "Feels stronger, Mr. Harper."

You're dadgummed right it feels stronger. What're you measuring anyway? If it's my temper, you'll never be able to count that high.

Hand away from Jess' wrist, he switched his attention to Jess' neck. "Uh-huh. Very well. Your fever's down, the tissues are no longer aflame. I think the worst has passed."

Great. Let me outta here, then.

"Now that the throat can be taken off our critical list, let's take a look at the rest of you."

He started at the arm, squeezing the flesh above and below the bullet's mark. Jess didn't expect the doctor's mouth to bow into a frown as he examined the wound. If it wasn't for the doctor's hand reaching for it, Jess would have completely forgotten the hole had even been there. His chest, now that was impossible to ignore. Jess had tried. When his throat was screaming a violent retort, he expected the throb in his chest to fade away. It didn't. But Jess had carried lead even closer to his heart than this before and pulled through without complaint. He certainly wasn't going to turn into a different man and cry out the intensity of a delicately placed gunshot wound now.

Doctor Ingram rested his hand along the bandage. "Hurt much?"

Jess shook his head. Like any bullet hole.

"Good." The doctor sighed, as if preparing for the worst. He was. "Can you move your hand?"

No.

"Can you try?"

I don't wanna.

"Come on. Try one finger at a time."

I can't move it without it killing me. None of it.

"All right, Mr. Harper," Ingram said, patting Jess' left hand like he was tending to a child. "Every day gets us closer to you getting better. Don't give up."

Uh-huh. Like I believe that story. You were the one that said that I wasn't gonna speak again. Why don't you go fetch Woodruff? I'd rather hear what he's gotta say. Then I can decide if it's time to give up or not.

"You're my last patient for the day, Mr. Harper, so I'll see you tomorrow. But the nurse will be in shortly."

Dadgum. Not her again. What it's gonna be? Time for my bath? The even worse kinda unmentionables? A shave, maybe? Possible fistfight? 'Cause I'd imagine if any woman's gonna have that kinda stuff, it's her.

Jess wouldn't have long to find out. Hearing the door handle being touched, Jess cringed at the stiff skirt's entry. In her hands was the one item he hated the most. Medicine.

"Good evening, Mr. Harper."

Might be somewhere, but it ain't here.

"You look brighter," she said, putting her fingers atop his forehead. "Cooler, too. Do you feel any better?"

Jess gave her a single nod.

"Good to know. You gave us all quite a scare the other day."

Kinda was scared myself. Jess' eyes lowered to look at his hand. I reckon in a way, I still am.

"You know, Mr. Harper, this is the most you've been awake since I started tending to you."

He returned the pair of blue back to her with a snap. If you want my eyes to stay open, don't give me anymore medicine.

"I suppose you've been wondering why you're not being tended by a pretty, little nurse, but a hard-hitting, old lady like me."

I kinda reckoned there ain't nobody female in this blamed hospital but you.

"You're a handsome man, Mr. Harper. I'd imagine you know that."

He snorted. At least that was a sound he could produce. Right now I'm a lame man. What's so special about that?

"If I left a twenty-something female in your room, especially one that has the right shape in all the right places, you'd do your best to turn her head. And because you happen to have the right shape in all the right places yourself, likely you'd succeed. But the problem would be, you wouldn't be showing charm merely to get a young nurse to bat her lashes at you. You'd be trying to get her to go soft on you. Make life in the hospital bed a bit more easy, maybe even walk you out that door. Am I right?"

Dadgum.

"Your eyes tell a lot about yourself, Mr. Harper. That shade of blue is some of the most expressive that I've ever seen. You're angry. I understand that. You want to go home. I understand that too. But you're also in pain. That's why you need this."

Jess' left hand lashed out, catching the wrist so tightly the vial flung from her clasp. Stop!

"Mr. Harper, you shouldn't act like a child."

And you shouldn't act like an old bat. So I reckon we're even.

"It's patients like you that tend the patience in me. Fortunately since I've dealt with your kind before, I brought another dose along for the ride."

No! I don't wanna go out. I'd rather take the pain.

"I'm sorry Mr. Harper…"

He squeezed her wrist and mouthed his name. It's Jess.

"That's not really protocol here."

So? Like I follow orders anywhere. He mouthed his name a second time. It's Jess.

"All right, Jess. I'll oblige you that much."

And the medicine? You'll oblige me that much, too?

Guessing what wiliness was inside of Jess' mind, she shook her head. "Sorry, but no."

At least wait, please. Jess pointed to his mouth and then put the finger toward her lips. Can we talk a minute before you poke me and knock me out?

"There are other patients in this wing that I need to check on, but I suppose I can wait a minute or two."

Good. Glad your head ain't all full of dos and don'ts.

Leaning forward, she ran a finger along Jess' cheek. "Remember what I said about your eyes? Right now they are sparkling. There's mischief brewing in you, Jess."

Who, me?

"So what is it that you want, other than no medicinal jab and a ticket home?"

Mouthing his name, he then pointed to the woman. What's your name?

"Nurse Mueller."

Jess shook his head. I want the front part.

"Orleta," she said, waiting with brows raised. "What, no smirk?"

Why should I?

"I usually get teased for my first name. You see, I was named after my father Orley. The 'ta' was his way of making my name feminine."

Why not just wait for a boy and call you something else?

All Orleta had to do was watch Jess' eyes, their dart, the eyelash droop, the lines that fit around each corner and she could understand. "My mother died in childbirth. As I was the firstborn, there would be no one else."

I'm sorry.

Orleta folded her hand over is. "Don't be."

He touched the empty ring finger. Anyone?

"No. I guess you'd say I've got too bitter of taste. You, anyone?"

Jess shook his head. There ain't nobody that's gonna taste worse than me.

"Oh, I don't know," she answered to the little lift in one corner of Jess' lips. "I'd imagine you'd soften up to the right girl."

Jess pointed his finger at Orleta. Are you that girl?

"At my age?" She laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, no. Not me."

Jess stuck two fingers upright and then fitted his hand into a circle. Come on, tack off twenty years and you'd be…?

"Still too old," Orleta answered, waving her finger over Jess' nose. "I know what you're trying to do. You won't win me over so easily, Jess Harper."

But, he already had.

Orleta was smiling as she left Jess' room, a rarity for a stubborn woman of her profession. But it went beyond the shape of her wrinkles. Offering a gently spoken goodnight, Orleta closed the door to room ninety and gave her pocket a pat. She hadn't given Jess his dose of medicine after all.