Among the Ducklings (5 page)

##

Since his
young days at the orphanage, Phil had learned to shield his heart from
heartbreak. He still remembered how the orphanage would line the kids up, like
cattle, for inspection by prospective parents, each kid hoping that he or she
would get chosen or that their real parents would somehow show up.
 
They would then be devastated when they found
out they didn't pass parental inspection, until the next line up. It was an
incessant and vicious cycle that kept repeating itself, throughout a kid's stay
at the orphanage.
 

When Phil
was thirteen years old, he was close to being adopted. His new prospective
parents had chosen him in the lineup.
 
However, he learned later, after the couple changed their minds, that
they had a 14 year old boy who objected to his being part of the family. That
was it.
 
Phil's dream of having real parents was shattered when they declined to adopt
him. Since that time, he would refuse to participate in lineups, biding his
time and dreaming that one day, he would turn eighteen and take control of his
own destiny.

When
he met Stacy, somehow all the resentment, all the heartaches and all the pain
that he suffered growing up, suddenly dissipated.
 
He was learning what love really was for the
first time in his life.
 
They were deeply
in love with each other and were not afraid to face the future together. She,
the risk taker, would take him to ski and air jumps. He, the dreamer and the
comedian, would take her to exotic trips, from China to Morocco, and tell her
Middle Eastern fables that he invented just to see her laugh.
When they became engaged a year later, everyone told him how lucky he was that
she chose him. He was good looking, but she was tops. She was the type of woman
that would make other women jealous just because of her looks. Men would look
at her and wish that they were in Phil's shoes.
 
Phil was happy.

Everything
started to change one day, however, when she met, during one of her modeling
photo shoots, a young movie director from California. He had promised her and
her agent some parts in some movies he was shooting in California.

“What do
you think? Should I go?” she had asked Phil.

“It's a no
brainer,” he had said. “Besides, you will only be gone for couple of weeks.”

“I love you
for being so understanding,” she had said.

“I love you
more for coming back to me,” he had replied. In fact, she never came back. He
was devastated when he learned from his secretary and saw in the tabloids,
compromising pictures of Stacy and another actor.
 
He tried to contact her but could never reach
her.
 
Instead, soon after the pictures
were published, he received an envelope with no return address. In it was the
engagement ring he had given to her and a card that simply read: “I am
sorry.”
 
That was the last he heard of her
and that was three years ago.

Chapter Four

“We're
here,” Jeremy said as they got off the exit to the Jacksonville airport from
highway I-95.
 
“As we promised, you're on
time for your Miami flight.”

“Thanks
guys.” Phil said, grateful to Jeremy for bringing Phil's mind back to the
present.

The flight
left on time, and Phil was looking forward to starting the rehabilitation
process and to eventually getting rid of the crutches. Although the plane was
full, he felt lonely.
 
If only Michelle had not brought up Stacy's
name
, he thought.

It looked
like a picture of a bright pebble set on a black canvas. However, the pebble
kept getting bigger and bigger, slowing eating away at the blackness of the
canvas. When it finally came into focus, Isabel realized that it was her eyes
adjusting to the lamp by her hospital bed.

“Are you
finally awake?” she heard a voice sounding like her
aunt
Marcia say.

“Where am
I?” she asked, slowing turning her head, and surprised to see her aunt.

“You are in
the hospital,” Marcia replied.

“What
happened? Where is Richard? Where is Rebecca?”

“You've
been in accident.
 
You're at Baptist
Memorial Hospital. Richard is OK.
 
He has
been released from the hospital and Rebecca is getting something to eat
downstairs in the cafeteria.
 
How are you
feeling?”

“My head
hurts. What happened?”

“You don't
remember the crash?”

“Yes, I
remember,” Isabel replied as the images of her last moment in the car, upside down,
came flooding furiously into her head. “Is everyone OK?” she asked.

“We will
talk about that later.
 
Now it’s time for
you to rest to get better,” Marcia responded.

Isabel felt
overwhelmed and tired and fell right back to sleep.

##

“How are
you feeling, Ms. Romero?” the man asked.

Isabel had
just woken up and she noticed that the man who asked the question was
accompanied by Marcia.

“Isabel,
this is Doctor Herzog.
 
He is the surgeon
who operated on you.”

“Hi,”
Isabel simply replied.

Even from
her bed, she could see that Doctor Herzog was very short.
 
He had a faint accent that Isabel guessed to
be German. He appeared to be in his late fifties, with faded blond hair, and a
bulbous nose.
 
With his coat stretched by
his wide body, He looked more like a wrestler than a physician.

“Good
morning, Ms. Romero,” the doctor greeted her. “The nurse told me that you have
spoken to Doctor Patterson.”

“Yes,”
Isabel replied. “I spoke with him two days ago.” As she now remembered her
meeting with Doctor Patterson, tears ran down Isabel's face.
 
She never imagined herself paralyzed. Doctor
Patterson had explained to her that she had suffered a spinal cord injury and
proceeded to conduct some invasive tests on the lower part of her body. She
could feel but could not move her toes or even her legs much for that matter.
She was asked to draw and solve mathematical problems as part of what Doctor
Patterson referred to as a typical neurological exam for this type of trauma.

“Am I
paralyzed?” she had asked Doctor Patterson.

“Paralysis
is a loaded word, Ms. Romero,” Doctor Patterson had said. “Paralysis is not
determined by an injury but rather by how someone lives her life after an
accident such as yours.”

“Will I be
able to walk again?”

Doctor
Patterson, who looked to be Isabel's age, was very handsome. He looked Middle
Eastern, with a skin tone that reminded Isabel of an Indian Bollywood singer
she saw once in a video.

“The way I
see it,” Doctor Patterson answered, “you have been given a second chance. You
didn't have any internal injuries and while you might have suffered an injury
to your spine, it was in the lower part of your spine and it was an incomplete
injury.
 
The fact that you have some
sensation and have some movement in your leg is very promising.”

Isabel had
noticed that Doctor Patterson never directly answered the question.
 
Not able to contain herself any longer,
Isabel then had started to cry.
 
She had
just realized that there was a good chance she might never walk again.

##

“We need to
talk to you today about your recovery process,” Isabel heard Marcia say,
prompting her to look at them. It's been two and a half weeks since the
accident and we're very satisfied with the progress that you are making.

“If you
don't feel up to it now, we can discuss this later. No hurry,” Dr. Herzog
added.

“I am OK,”
she simply said.
 
Isabel was grateful
that Marcia was there in her meeting with Dr. Herzog. In reality, she had been
dreading this meeting that Dr. Patterson had told her would happen.

“You
suffered what we call an Incomplete Spinal Cord Injury,” Doctor Herzog was
telling Isabel.

“Will I be
able to walk again?”

“Incomplete
injuries like yours have a better chance of recovery than complete injuries.
However, there is no guarantee of any recovery.
 
Right now, there is no test currently available that can make such a
prediction,” Doctor Herzog said.

“We just
have to take it one day at a time,” Marcia interjected. When she saw that
Isabel remained silent, with tears rolling down her cheeks, Marcia then added,
“The most important thing now is to focus on your rehabilitation, and Doctor
Herzog and I discussed you continuing therapy at the Kendall Rehabilitation
Center as soon as you are able.”

“Will that
help me
walk
again, Tia Marcia?” Isabel asked
addressing her aunt.

“Maybe.
 
However, that is not the purpose of the therapy. The purpose of the
rehabilitation is to become self-reliant, such as dressing yourself and
learning how to use a wheelchair. We have arranged for you to be transferred to
the Kendall Rehabilitation Center for that.”

As Isabel's
tears did not stop, Marcia then said to Isabel, “don't worry, you will walk
again.
 
I promise.” Hearing herself
making this vow, Marcia felt a queasy feeling in her stomach.
 
This was the first time she had ever
lied
to Isabel.
 
 
 

##

It had been
six weeks since Phil's return from Saint Augustine.
 
During the first two weeks, he was grateful
to his secretary for handling monumental tasks that he was not sure he would be
able to complete, due to the time that he had to spend away from work.
 
On top of that, he was also able to forget
about Stacy once again, as he believed that he had already done until Michelle
brought her name up. The stitches had since been removed, as Doctor Gomez had
predicted. He had already completed four weeks of exercises under the
supervision of an orthopedic doctor at the Kendall Rehabilitation Center. He
had been told that he had about two weeks left before he could try to walk on
the ankle, with the help of a brace and a cane.
 
Then, it would be time for physical therapy exercises, including using a
stationary bicycle and treadmill, swimming, as well as doing weights on the
leg.
 
Phil was counting every minute.

Although
it was called the Kendall Rehabilitation Center, the Center itself was not on
Kendall Drive. It was located south of the Tamiami airport and occupied one
street block, and was made up of numerous buildings and private streets adorned
with palm trees and orange trees. The Center provided many different services,
including physical therapy, occupational therapy, and other rehabilitation
services for many forms of injuries and disabilities.

The back of
the Center's administration building, which was located at the other end of the
property, faced a large man-made lake. An old marble bench sat at the edge of
landscaping, which circled the lake as if it was the lake's own aura.
 
Round patches of purple pansies grew and
extended above the grass at precise and equal intervals. Sandwiched between
each of the intervals were short hibiscus trees with alternating colors.

In
the afternoons, after the completion of each of Phil's exercises, Phil would
sit on the bench watching Mallard ducks swim with their ducklings in the middle
of the water and enjoying the fragrance of flowers blended with fresh cut
grass. If performing these exercises were good for his ankle, watching these
ducklings swim daily with their mother was good for his spirit.
 

As he
approached the bench one afternoon, the sun was already setting and the surface
of the lake looked more like a mirror reflecting the surrounding landscape.
Phil was surprised to see that someone was already sitting there conversing
with a woman in a wheel chair.
 
As he
approached, the person on the bench turned, and Phil was surprised to see that
it was Doctor Gomez.

“Hi Phil,
it's nice to see you’re getting better,” Dr. Gomez said, which prompted the
woman in the wheelchair to turn and look at him. She was very beautiful and
bore a striking resemblance to Dr. Gomez, and Phil wondered if she was her
daughter.

“I’m
surprised that you remember me, Dr. Gomez,” Phil said.