Clouded Rainbow (19 page)

“Who… Who is this?” Miles stuttered.

Roger calmed down, but his body throbbed even as he sat still. Miles’ words didn’t seem to faze Roger as he didn’t want any more to do with the bum. He was trying to regain strength to run, or at least stumble, far away from him.

Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll get the hint
, Roger reasoned.

“Hey, this woman. Who is she?” Miles persisted.

Roger had no interest in amusing the man standing over him, but the mention of the word “woman” did raise his curiosity. Roger kept his head still and moved his eyes toward Miles. He saw that Miles was holding something in his hands. Then, Roger moved his head as Miles turned the image toward him. Roger enlarged his eyes, wondering how Miles had his photograph.

“That’s mine. Give it back!” Roger barked.

“Who is she?”

“It’s a picture of me and my wife.”

Miles turned the picture back around. “Wow, she is beautiful. When was this taken?” he asked sincerely.

“Last year. I can still remember it,” Roger said as he scooted toward a nearby trashcan.

He scrunched his brow as he used all of his energy to stand, trying to regain the only concrete item of the love of his life. Struggling, Roger fell back down to the pavement as his own body mocked him.

“Where is she now? What the hell happened, eh?” Miles curiously asked.

Roger lowered his head in confusion.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I think I was involved in that car crash last night,” he explained.

“You think? Damn! You gotta get some help.”

Miles suddenly felt overwhelmed with sympathy for his partner on the street. While he wished he had a better life, a life that didn’t include sleeping on the street, it was all that he had known for years; it was a life he at least understood. But the man in front of him was very different. On the outside Roger appeared just like him, a wanderer without a clear purpose; however, the photograph he held between his fingers painted a much different picture.

“I can’t get help. I already messed that up. It’s a long story, but let’s just say the law is after me. But I don’t even care. I just want to find my wife. I need her… She—”

“Well, I think I found her,” Miles said as he gave the picture back to Roger.

“Come on, I’m tired of your shit!” Roger yelled.

“No, she’s famous!”

What’s he talking about?
Roger asked himself, figuring the pest had finally lost it.

Roger attempted to reposition his head, but the bones in his neck screamed. It was as if he had lost control over his body. He wondered if even another dose of medicine from the glass bottle would invigorate his body.

Roger finally mustered enough strength to look up at Miles. The drifter had his hand extended with his finger pointing at something across the street. Roger took a deep breath, knowing he had to move his head again to whatever object that had absorbed Miles. He figured it was something innocuous, an attractive woman swaying down the street or a streetwalker prowling for clients.

As Roger’s eyes finally focused, he saw the flashing lights of several big screen televisions inside a home rental store.

What was Miles pointing at?
Roger thought.

He didn’t see anyone standing outside and the store itself was dark. On the television was an image of a woman in the corner of the screen with a newscaster addressing the camera. Roger squinted to see the woman, but as he strained, her picture filled the entire screen of the television.

The image on the big screen was that of a woman aged gracefully to thirty-six years. It was black and white, obviously a DMV-type photograph, but the woman depicted could catch any man’s attention, regardless of color space. It was Lois Belkin, and her image was glowing on screen like a radiating flare shot into the sky.

Roger lifted his eyelids. He was speechless, motionless, emotionless. He couldn’t believe the sight. It took a moment to register in his brain, but Roger finally realized the key to his daunting journey was just four lanes away. A jolt of electricity flowed through his body, bringing new life to his soul. It was as if he were in a new body, with his mind completely focused on the screen across the street.

Roger jumped up and darted across the busy road.

“Hey!” Miles yelled, completely blinded by Roger’s burst of vigor.

A car slammed on its brakes, screeching to a halt as Roger hustled across the lanes, hurdling the pothole that had once fixated him. Another truck slowed and blared its horn, but none of the street’s activity could stop Roger.

He reached the glass window and kneeled down on the sidewalk. Tears flowed down his cheek as the image of his wife glimmered off his watery eyes. Roger raised his hand to the glass and outlined her image with his fingers. Her smile, her dark, flowing hair, her supple skin, mesmerized Roger. He felt her presence surround him in the digital data swirling through the airwaves. The television captured the digital signal, which reflective mirrors from the projection television beamed to Roger’s eyes.

Closed captioning flowed across the screen: “Police are asking for help with identifying any loved ones of Lois Belkin, age 36. She is recovering at Southern General Hospital from last night’s horrific accident on Pleasant Place Bridge…”

The words “Southern General Hospital” caught Roger’s attention as he blinked his eyes, regaining composure. Abruptly, he felt water drip onto his already soaked cheeks. Roger assumed it was his tears, but then he felt more drops hit the top of his forehead. He knew it couldn’t have been tears. Suddenly, a flash of lighting overwhelmed the sky, followed by a burst of thunder.

Traffic had increased as Miles attempted to join Roger across the street. A truck whizzed by, sending the drifter back. The rain picked up as water pelted Miles’ face. He saw a window of opportunity as he ran across the street, but then a sedan slammed on its brakes. Miles stopped. The car halted inches from his bones.

“Yo, can’t you see I’m walking here!” Miles screamed as he banged on the hood of the sedan.

He continued toward Roger. Water began to pour down the store window, which distorted the television. Miles stopped behind Roger and looked in awe of her glow. Then, just like that, the striking image of Lois vanished on the screen.

“Hey, man. What did it say? Where is she?” Miles asked.

The rain had completely soaked through Roger’s hair and clothes. His whole body couldn’t escape the sky’s tears. Another blast of thunder echoed through Roger, as he felt renewed and reborn. He turned in the direction of Southern General Hospital.

“That way, the hospital,” Roger mouthed to Miles.

He was now a man on his ultimate mission, finally enlightened to the most important piece in his broken puzzle. Even with all of the missteps along the way, it was all worth it now. Roger figured he would not have seen the answer to his question had it not been for the spectacle at The Hideaway. While he had taken a step backward, he was now given the opportunity to take a leap forward toward the side of his awaiting wife.

Miles looked at Roger in astonishment. He could feel the energy ooze from him. Miles followed Roger’s gaze as they stood in the cleansing rain.

Roger licked his lips. The rainwater tasted salty as it tinkled his dry tongue. Roger took a deep breath and whispered, “I’m coming.”

19

The clock passed the three o’clock mark on the wall across from the nurses’ station. Jennifer was busy at the computer with the doctors’ notes from the day. She was the only nurse behind the front desk. Two other female nurses were making the rounds down the north and east wings. Nurse Ann was in the office behind Jennifer with another nurse, discussing her quarterly review. The final nurse on the shift was downstairs in the cafeteria on her break.

Jennifer came across a record on her spreadsheet application that was marked “Jane Doe.” She remembered a memo from Nurse Ann regarding the nameless file. Jennifer dug around on the desk and found the message, which read to update Jane Doe’s records with the name “Lois Belkin.” She changed the fields in the computer document, and then found the paper file in the cabinet next to her. Using an ink pen, she crossed out the name and corrected it. Her next task was to make sure the computer file matched the paper file. She glanced at the “Injuries” category and compared the two formats. Both described the arm fracture to the right arm, internal bleeding that was now stabilized, and included the word “Coma” in bold letters. “Awaiting Neurologist Consult” filled the “Daily Update” field on the paper file, but was not included in the electronic version. As Jennifer typed the information into the computer, she realized that Lois was one of the victims of the horrific accident on the Pleasant Place Bridge. She finished updating the record and scrolled down farther until a particular field made her stop. The “Relatives” box was empty, as well as the “Emergency Contacts.” The file resembled one for the homeless who had no family except for the streets.

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice emitted, which startled Jennifer.

She looked up to see a middle-aged woman dressed in a large coat. Jennifer wondered why she hadn’t heard the elevator ding through the stillness, but figured it was her preoccupation with Lois’ file.

The middle-aged woman’s presence jarred Nurse Ann’s attention as she had a strategic view from her seat in the back office. The visitor was holding a tissue and dabbed her eyes as she focused on Jennifer. Nurse Ann peeked out of the back office. She wondered whether the woman was related to Lois, a “next of kin” in police lingo. The woman had a long face, red hair, and was short—barely over five feet tall. Nurse Ann tried to make out any resemblance to the sleeping beauty, but somehow she knew that the woman wasn’t here for Lois. Nevertheless, the woman was obviously frazzled and Nurse Ann had a duty to help all those who sought information about the patients on her floor.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” Jennifer replied.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but my father, Edward Ulrich, was just admitted. He was in a car accident and the E.R. said he was here in recovery,” the woman said through tears.

Nurse Ann walked from the office ready to assist the woman. She remembered her father’s admittance to the floor several hours ago. He suffered numerous broken bones from a late night wreck, but his injuries were not life threatening.

Jennifer sprang from her seat. This woman was a high priority visitor who transcended normal visiting hours. This was something unique with her floor.

“I’ll take care of it, Ann,” Jennifer assured her boss.

“Yes, he’s right this way. Please follow me,” Jennifer responded as she put a compassionate arm around the weeping woman and walked her down to the north wing.

An eerie silence filled the nurses’ station. Nurse Ann took in the stillness under the dim lights. The smell of soap invigorated her senses as she raised her head to allow more of the aroma to enter. She wondered where it had come from. Then her ears adjusted to the silence as the sound of ticking arose from somewhere. Her eyes shifted toward the source and focused on the clock on the wall. It read ten after three. The ticking made Nurse Ann focus on Lois. It was too quiet, as if the world had forgotten about the sleeping beauty.

Nurse Ann peeked into the office behind her. Her fellow nurse was busy reading through her proposed employee development plan, as required by the hospital.

“I’ll be right back,” Nurse Ann said to her.

She walked with quick steps down the west wing. She wanted to check on Lois and offer her a quick motivation to pull through her wakeless sleep. As she neared the room in the distant hallway, she saw two figures near the wall. They were shadowy with dark uniforms covering their obtrusive presence. At first, Nurse Ann quivered at the image, but then she remembered that these uninvited visitors were the two patrolmen who had interjected themselves on the floor. Nurse Ann had forgotten about them because she had been preoccupied with administrative tasks, but she had shivered with fear when they had first arrived just after eleven o’clock.