4
In a Coma - Part Three
Posted by JSYL
on
Thursday, June 07, 2007
in
JSYL's Prose
Mia
Mia was used to speeding.
She’d never been in an accident before, and had mastered dodging speed cameras and keeping control of the wheel even while speeding down winding narrow roads to an art form.
While he was out at night she would sometimes walk out of the house and drive aimlessly. It started out as an alternative to lying in bed awake, pretending to be asleep, and waiting for him to come home. Later though, she made up a million reasons why she needed to get out of the house- they were running out of milk, she had to pick up some cigarettes, or (her personal favourite) she’d suddenly developed a torturous craving for apple pie.
But no matter what the excuse, the real reason she drove was because she couldn’t stand being there anymore. Staring at the walls, thinking about where he was, and what kind of mood he’d be in when he got back. What fight are we going to pick tonight, she’d think to herself, knowing without a doubt that regardless of the subject, the night would not end well. Her drives allowed herself to pretend, just for a few hours, that she was not keeping another sleepless vigil for him. It made her feel productive instead of miserable, and kept her sane, no matter if she was only driving the short distance to the convenience store, or all the way to the lake and back again.
Mia was driving at double the speed limit now, darting back and forth between lanes, cutting people off without a care. Her foot almost never left the accelerator. She had lost count how many red lights she’d gone through. Mia knew this route off by heart and allowed her worries to run rampant in her head as she automatically took the requisite turns to the hospital, totally oblivious to the danger others must think she was mad to be putting herself in.
After a smooth reverse park Mia slammed the car door shut and ran towards the hospital’s main entrance, her heels clacking on the pavement, and the vein in her temple throbbing as though it were about to burst through her skull. She couldn’t see the bewildered expressions on the faces of the people blocking her path as she pushed past them, nor hear their assorted grunts and muttered asides. Her eyes scanned the long corridor before her frantically, looking for a sign, for something that would point her in the right direction.
Where was he? She was sure some kind of sixth sense would beckon her to him. She needed to know he was all right. Just to know…and then there would be peace. But only if he was all right. If he wasn’t….but she couldn’t even allow herself to think of that right now. She just needed to get to him before anyone else did.
She grabbed the arm of a middle-aged woman in a purple cardigan and a long white skirt. “Sam. Hathaway. Please. Have you seen him?” The woman ‘s eyes were at first confused, and then narrowed. “I don’t work here,” she said brusquely, and pulled her arm, still locked in Mia’s tight grip, firmly away.
Mia’s arm dropped to her side and she appeared off balance for a split second, the rebuke and heavy shove of the woman leaving her reeling, before she remembered seeing ambulances parked next to a side entrance to the emergency ward. She pivoted on the pointed toe of her right heel and ran out the way she had come, her newly cut fringe hanging in her eyes as she made her way across the parking lot.
Her breath was laboured, and she rested her palms on the desk before her, her eyes lighting up upon seeing a familiar face. “Sarah. Nick just called me, I came as fast as I could. Has Sam Hathaway been brought in, in the last hour?”
Sarah’s lips pursed together in a far more sympathetic expression than the cardigan lady had given just moments earlier. But that warmth did not reach her eyes, which stared Mia down with a hard look- not quite a glare, but with all the harried impatience that would normally exude one. “You both know the rules- patient confidentiality prevents me from…”
“Sarah please!” Mia’s voice betrayed her, coming out more shrill and desperate than she had intended. She was so afraid of being turned away. She paused to recompose herself, afraid that she would start crying, which would do nothing to further her cause at this point. She let her eyes do the begging- anything more would piss Sarah off even more, and she couldn’t afford to grate on her in the slightest. “I need this. Just do this one last thing for me, and I’ll never bother you again. Please.”
Sarah’s brow furrowed as she surveyed the sincerity of Mia’s eyes, the trembling of her lips. It was a familiar sight- and she resented her all the more for it. Neither she nor Nick should be on a first-name basis with this woman. Not like this. It just wasn’t professional. Anyone else would have been turned away but Mia, with her slim figure, her long legs and that infuriatingly innocent demeanour slipped past everyone’s radar. Especially Nick’s. And she knew, by the bags under Mia’s eyes and the tousled hair that marked a thousand sleepless nights who Sam must be to her. She hesitated for a moment longer, just to savour the tiny drip of authority Nick had left her in the wake of his discretion, and reluctantly muttered, “Yes. He’s in intensive care. That’s all I’m going to say.”
The start of a new request escaped Mia, but she retrieved it as quickly as possible, holding her right hand over her left arm in an effort to physically restrain herself from going any further. She bit her lower lip for good measure and nodded slightly, which served partly as a thank you, and partly a goodbye. But more than anything, Sarah could see the real dismay that the gesture implied, as Mia forced herself to turn away and walk out the door. She stopped pretending to be busy typing at her post, and let out a sigh, as she watched Mia’s tiny frame and slumped shoulders grow smaller in the distance. She felt a flood of compassion well up inside her for the umpteenth time for the helpless soul before her, and the sheer hopelessness of the situation she had gotten herself into, and called out, against her better judgement. “Mia.”
Sarah’s voice reverberated against the sterile walls. Mia turned slightly, half-facing her, half poised to walk on. “They’re operating now- they doubt he’s going to make it. I’ll let you know when he’s out.” Mia closed her eyes and turned again, her stride slow and careful. A tear trickled down her cheek as she walked in quick short steps back to her car.
[...to be continued]
|
Mia was used to speeding.
She’d never been in an accident before, and had mastered dodging speed cameras and keeping control of the wheel even while speeding down winding narrow roads to an art form.
While he was out at night she would sometimes walk out of the house and drive aimlessly. It started out as an alternative to lying in bed awake, pretending to be asleep, and waiting for him to come home. Later though, she made up a million reasons why she needed to get out of the house- they were running out of milk, she had to pick up some cigarettes, or (her personal favourite) she’d suddenly developed a torturous craving for apple pie.
But no matter what the excuse, the real reason she drove was because she couldn’t stand being there anymore. Staring at the walls, thinking about where he was, and what kind of mood he’d be in when he got back. What fight are we going to pick tonight, she’d think to herself, knowing without a doubt that regardless of the subject, the night would not end well. Her drives allowed herself to pretend, just for a few hours, that she was not keeping another sleepless vigil for him. It made her feel productive instead of miserable, and kept her sane, no matter if she was only driving the short distance to the convenience store, or all the way to the lake and back again.
Mia was driving at double the speed limit now, darting back and forth between lanes, cutting people off without a care. Her foot almost never left the accelerator. She had lost count how many red lights she’d gone through. Mia knew this route off by heart and allowed her worries to run rampant in her head as she automatically took the requisite turns to the hospital, totally oblivious to the danger others must think she was mad to be putting herself in.
After a smooth reverse park Mia slammed the car door shut and ran towards the hospital’s main entrance, her heels clacking on the pavement, and the vein in her temple throbbing as though it were about to burst through her skull. She couldn’t see the bewildered expressions on the faces of the people blocking her path as she pushed past them, nor hear their assorted grunts and muttered asides. Her eyes scanned the long corridor before her frantically, looking for a sign, for something that would point her in the right direction.
Where was he? She was sure some kind of sixth sense would beckon her to him. She needed to know he was all right. Just to know…and then there would be peace. But only if he was all right. If he wasn’t….but she couldn’t even allow herself to think of that right now. She just needed to get to him before anyone else did.
She grabbed the arm of a middle-aged woman in a purple cardigan and a long white skirt. “Sam. Hathaway. Please. Have you seen him?” The woman ‘s eyes were at first confused, and then narrowed. “I don’t work here,” she said brusquely, and pulled her arm, still locked in Mia’s tight grip, firmly away.
Mia’s arm dropped to her side and she appeared off balance for a split second, the rebuke and heavy shove of the woman leaving her reeling, before she remembered seeing ambulances parked next to a side entrance to the emergency ward. She pivoted on the pointed toe of her right heel and ran out the way she had come, her newly cut fringe hanging in her eyes as she made her way across the parking lot.
Her breath was laboured, and she rested her palms on the desk before her, her eyes lighting up upon seeing a familiar face. “Sarah. Nick just called me, I came as fast as I could. Has Sam Hathaway been brought in, in the last hour?”
Sarah’s lips pursed together in a far more sympathetic expression than the cardigan lady had given just moments earlier. But that warmth did not reach her eyes, which stared Mia down with a hard look- not quite a glare, but with all the harried impatience that would normally exude one. “You both know the rules- patient confidentiality prevents me from…”
“Sarah please!” Mia’s voice betrayed her, coming out more shrill and desperate than she had intended. She was so afraid of being turned away. She paused to recompose herself, afraid that she would start crying, which would do nothing to further her cause at this point. She let her eyes do the begging- anything more would piss Sarah off even more, and she couldn’t afford to grate on her in the slightest. “I need this. Just do this one last thing for me, and I’ll never bother you again. Please.”
Sarah’s brow furrowed as she surveyed the sincerity of Mia’s eyes, the trembling of her lips. It was a familiar sight- and she resented her all the more for it. Neither she nor Nick should be on a first-name basis with this woman. Not like this. It just wasn’t professional. Anyone else would have been turned away but Mia, with her slim figure, her long legs and that infuriatingly innocent demeanour slipped past everyone’s radar. Especially Nick’s. And she knew, by the bags under Mia’s eyes and the tousled hair that marked a thousand sleepless nights who Sam must be to her. She hesitated for a moment longer, just to savour the tiny drip of authority Nick had left her in the wake of his discretion, and reluctantly muttered, “Yes. He’s in intensive care. That’s all I’m going to say.”
The start of a new request escaped Mia, but she retrieved it as quickly as possible, holding her right hand over her left arm in an effort to physically restrain herself from going any further. She bit her lower lip for good measure and nodded slightly, which served partly as a thank you, and partly a goodbye. But more than anything, Sarah could see the real dismay that the gesture implied, as Mia forced herself to turn away and walk out the door. She stopped pretending to be busy typing at her post, and let out a sigh, as she watched Mia’s tiny frame and slumped shoulders grow smaller in the distance. She felt a flood of compassion well up inside her for the umpteenth time for the helpless soul before her, and the sheer hopelessness of the situation she had gotten herself into, and called out, against her better judgement. “Mia.”
Sarah’s voice reverberated against the sterile walls. Mia turned slightly, half-facing her, half poised to walk on. “They’re operating now- they doubt he’s going to make it. I’ll let you know when he’s out.” Mia closed her eyes and turned again, her stride slow and careful. A tear trickled down her cheek as she walked in quick short steps back to her car.
[...to be continued]
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