T.J. pulled the curtain quietly until it could go no further. He followed the lines that hung loosely from Jerry's face and arm to determine what they did, where they went. Reaching across the idle body he gently tugged on one. It made a hissing sound as it left Jerry's nose. The body didn't flinch.
T.J. followed suit with the one in his throat, peeling the tape holding it in place. Finally, the needle in Jerry's left wrist. There was a lot more tape. At first he was careful, going slow to break its adhesion, then quicker; it was taking too long.
Freed from its shackles, the body was still motionless. T.J. watched the monitor for a sign of something. The curtain behind him clattered open and a nurse entered, smiled and then stopped short.
“What the...”
She fumbled at the oxygen lines and the needle hanging lifeless like the man they rested beside.
“Did you do this?” Her eyes were frantic, searching T.J. for answers.
T.J. made a move to get past her and she stopped him with a forceful hand. He pushed her hard, landing her noisily against a metal tray table, throwing a glass of water hard against the wall. Regaining her balance she moved swiftly after him, grabbing at his sleeve, calling for help.
“Hold it.” A male nurse blocked T.J.'s urgent escape before he could exit the room. T.J. kicked at his shins but the nurse, arms bulked and ready for a challenge, held him at bay. His hands were wrapped tightly around T.J's biceps.
“What's going on here?” Lily's mother, Gloria, rounded the corner, alarm written on her face.
Phoebe arrived out of nowhere, slunk to the floor and crawled into a corner of the room. She pulled her legs tightly to her chin and rocked back and forth, back and forth. The male nurse stood close, casting a dark shadow over Phoebe while two other nurses worked to restore the undead man in the bed. Gloria sobbed from her perch in the doorway, glaring at her husband then at Phoebe in disbelief.
“How could you?” Was all she could say.
Phoebe could feel the warm sensation of shame moist between her legs. An arm wrapped around her shoulder and Gloria's soft voice was whispering in her ear.
“It's going to be alright. Everything's going to be o.k. Tell me what happened.”
A childish four year old voice responded, “It was T.J.”
“T.J.?”
Hearing his name T.J. swung violently at Gloria, his fist landing solidly on her left cheek. She fell back and the male nurse stepped in, pulling him to his feet, wrestling his arms behind his back. He led him from the hospital room. Gloria lay on the floor, weeping.
T.J. floundered uselessly, down the corridor, against the strength of the nurse. The nurse tugged a little harder sending a sharp pain through T.J.'s shoulder blades. Hospital staff leaped out of their path as they passed.
Aaron was standing at the nurse's station, asking for directions. He turned at the commotion and saw them.
“Lily?”
T.J. dropped his head, trying to avoid eye contact but the nurse yanked him upright. Aaron reached for Lily and then his hand fell away. He watched them go.
“Mrs. Jules?” A doctor entered the room and pulled a chair next to hers. He lay a gentle hand on her arm and entreated her listening ear. “You're daughter is going to be alright. We've taken her to the Psych ward for analysis. She will be treated well there and we'll be sure to update you on her progress.”
“Thank you.” Gloria responded, cupping his compassionate hand in hers. “Thank you.”
No comments:
Post a Comment