Authors: S.E. Akers
They wouldn’t just tell
anyone
about his condition, let alone be in there with him. He didn’t have any biological family members around here, or anywhere to my knowledge.
I
was the closest thing.
“I’m his
daughter!
” I cried out as I whipped around, without giving our “obviously opposing skin tones” a second-thought.
I looked up to see the hospital security officer, who I now re
cognized was Jack Patterson, chuckling. The stocky, middle-aged man took his finger and ran it down my cheek.
“I know who you are,
Shiloh Wallace
. You don’t have to
trick me
into thinkin’ you’re Samuel’s kin.”
I didn’t understand what the heck he was talking about
— not until he extended his finger towards me, the one he’d just swiped down my face. It was covered in coal dust.
Yuck!
I could still hear him laughing as I checked my reflection in a nearby window. My face was as black as coal and actually much darker than Samuel’s natural mocha shade.
Jack Patterson took
my hand and escorted me through the entrance. All of my senses went haywire as soon as I stepped inside. My eyes squinted from the bright fluorescent lights glaring down on me. A strong whiff of alcohol and disinfectant made my nostrils twitch. My ears were rattling with the sounds of several pages and drawn-out
“beeps”
that blared from the intercom. And of course, my eyes had a field-day with all the random hospital employees zooming past me every which way, darting in and out of various doors with no answers to be given. Needless to say, my impatience had already kicked into overdrive.
“Go clean up,” Jack Patterson instructed. “I’ll
call for a nurse to give you an update. The bathroom is right over there.”
I followed his orders and when finished, I emerge
d from the bathroom clean-faced and smelling like a citrus orchard. I spotted Jack Patterson talking to a tiny woman sitting behind a glass cubicle off to the side.
“Here she is,”
Jack Patterson said as I approached. “Ethel, this is Shiloh Wallace. She’s a family friend of Samuel’s. You can tell her
anything
she wants to know.”
I smiled.
“Thank you, Mr. Patterson. I appreciate that.”
Jack Patterson patted my back. “You’re welcome.
I’ve gotta go make my rounds, but I’ll come back to check on you a little later. Don’t worry. They’ll take real good care of him back there,” he assured with a stout nod and then headed off down the hall.
Ethel, the tiny woman sitting behind the glass, asked, “Do you know who Mr. Clark’s next of kin is?”
The way she phrased the question alarmed me.
“No,” I snapped. “Why?
What’s wrong?
”
“
Calm down
. I need it for my paperwork. I can get most of his information from the mine, but I do need to know if Mr. Clark has a DNR.”
“A
what?
” I asked.
“A DNR…
A ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ directive. Does he have one?” she asked casually.
Stunned by yet another question I didn’t want to hear, I scoffed, “I don’t know
?!? But
PLEASE…
let’s make sure y’all
DO ATTEMPT
to resuscitate Mr. Clark!”
By the look on Ethel’s face, I’d obviously ticked
her off, but I couldn’t have cared less.
“
Please
, just find out what’s going on, and how he’s doing…
PLEASE?
” I pleaded.
The tiny brunette
glared at me as she stood up slowly and then headed off through the double doors that led into the emergency room. I paced around the front waiting room nervously, never stopping for a second. Twenty minutes had passed and I was about to climb the freaking walls. It was taking
FOREVER
for her to return!
Another five minutes later, Ethel slowly sauntered back to her desk. I raced over to the cubicle. She slid
open a portion of the glass window.
“The doctor will be out here momentarily to discuss Mr. Clark’s condition with you.” Then she proceeded to slide the glass shut
, without warning.
“That’s
IT?” I appealed through the glass. Ethel didn’t even look up. She just kept her head down and dove right into some paperwork lying on her desk. I spun around angrily and thought,
What an insensitive little witch!
I stormed off and grabbed a seat near the television in the waiting room. I shifted around
in a light-blue vinyl chair, trying to find a comfortable position (there wasn’t one). I flipped through several out-dated magazines to kill some time, but I was finished with all them in four minutes flat.
A doctor entered the waiting room
. “I’m looking for the young lady who came in with Mr. Clark?” he asked.
Instantly, I sprang to my feet. “That’s me!”
“Please, follow me,” the tall Indian doctor requested.
I
’d noticed his name on the white lab coat he was wearing, but I didn’t have a clue how to pronounce it. Nervously, I followed the doctor through the massive double doors that led into the ER. We weaved through a maze of stretchers, machines, and desks scattered all throughout the cramped space. Several nurses and technicians were running in and out of a section of the room that had been sealed off with a beige curtain hanging from a track in the ceiling. It was the only area that seemed to be getting a lot of attention. I could only assume Samuel was behind “Curtain Number One”. The doctor motioned me into a rear office.
“Ms. Wallace, I’m Dr. Kupasami. I’ll be performing Mr. Clark’s surgery.”
I figured Samuel would be going under the knife, what with all the blood I’d witnessed.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked nervously.
“The ultrasound revealed that Mr. Clark has a lacerated spleen. Most likely, it will have to be removed during surgery, but he can still live a long life without it. The nurses are going to take him across the hall to do a few more CAT scans, just to reconfirm the diagnosis and to make sure there are no other internal injuries. Once we get the results, we’ll address any other concerns and prep him for surgery. The x-rays revealed that Mr. Clark has several cracked ribs on his right side. We will tend to those once he’s out of the operating room. In addition, both of his tibias are broken, as well as his right radius. Luckily, the fractures are closed, so we can reset them while he’s here recuperating. Aside from that, Mr. Clark has a few second-degree burns and several minor cuts. The spleen is the worst of his injuries, but I’m confident from what we’ve seen so far that the surgery will go smoothly. Do you have any questions?”
I stood there silent, trapped in an abyss of conflict. Even though
the doctor seemed positive that Samuel would pull through the surgery, I decided to delve into his mind to make sure he wasn’t trying to bullshit me.
He wasn’t
. The doctor was one-hundred-percent certain that Samuel would be fine, but it was all I could do to restrain myself from running over and ripping back the beige curtain to heal him myself.
But how on earth would he explain getting up and walking out of here a “healed” man?
His injuries were much more than a few cracked ribs and a broken nose. Not only would I have to brainwash everyone who had come in contact with Samuel since he was rushed from the mine to the hospital, but most likely, half the town.
Surely most everybody knows by now
. “The news” had to have already spread through the town like wildfire. I was a Talisman who possessed one of the most powerful stones capable of unimaginable physical and mental healing abilities and yet, I felt completely powerless. I couldn’t risk my secret being exposed. I was riddled with guilt over what I thought was a selfish decision. Sadly, like any other distraught loved one, I felt uncomfortably vulnerable, human, and regrettably “normal”.
“Where can I wait for him?” I asked
, broken-hearted.
The soft-spoken doctor smiled. “There’s a waiting room around the corner reserved for family members of our patients in surgery. I’ll have a nurse escort you there. I’ll update you once he’s out of surgery. It’ll be a couple of hours.”
“Thank you, Dr. Kupasami.”
The gentle man nodded and exited th
e room. I ran to the doorway.
“
Please
take good care of him,” I called out. The doctor smiled back and then headed down the hall.
A
statuesque, bleach-blonde nurse came strolling along a few minutes later. I caught several of the males on staff following the woman with their eyes as she passed them, and she carried herself in a way that let you know she was
well aware
of the stares she was attracting too. I’ll admit the nurse was quite striking, but she looked strangely familiar. Like a cold hard slap, it finally hit me who she was.
Beverly Rhodes…
Charlotte’s (former) best friend
, I thought. No wonder I didn’t recognize her at first. I’d seen bed sheets that hadn’t been pulled as tight or tucked as much as what her face had been. And that wasn’t the only thing new. I could see
two more
“things” blatantly staring me in the face.
If her nametag were any higher, I swear she’d poke out her eye!
“
Shiloh?
Is that
YOU?
” Beverly asked in a sticky-sweet southern drawl.
Still stunned by her transformation, I smiled and nodded. She leaned in and gave me quick, tight squ
eeze.
“It’s my first day back to work, and I get to run into you. This is a
treat!
I took a little
time off
…to visit some relatives
out west for a couple of months,” Beverly clarified.
Relatives
— my ass
, I giggled to myself.
Who’s she kiddin’?
“Shiloh, I haven’
t seen you since the party last—”
“Christmas,” I interrupted. “When Mom stormed out? Cursing the ground you walked on?”
“That’s the one,” Beverly laughed and flipped back her hair. “I really need to call her. Is she
still
upset?”
“Of course, she is. We’re talking about
my
mother
, remember?”
I wasn’t quite sure what had started their “little tiff”. Knowing now about Charlotte’s extracurricular endeavors
and that Beverly was a divorcée who had been playing the field (
entire
state) for the past several years, I could only assume it had been over some guy in town they were both carrying on with. Even though they always claimed to be
‘close friends’
, they were more like
rivals
, who kept their enemies close.
Beverly shook her head and sighed. “It’s a
lmost been a
whole year
. Maybe I should give her a call? You know, be the bigger person.”
“No…
You should just drop by and surprise her,” I insisted as I looked at the new & improved, buxom Beverly Rhodes from head to toe. My mouth crept into a sly smile just thinking about the look on Charlotte’s face when she laid eyes on Beverly — a younger-looking and fresh-faced “bigger” person would surely send her through the roof.
“
You’re right
. I’ll stop by. I need to…” Beverly stopped and jerked me into heartfelt embrace. “Pass along my
condolences
,” she sniveled.
Beverly continued to express her sympathy as she swayed me back and forth, locked in her
arms. I found myself helpless and uncomfortably pressed up against “the twins”. When she finally did release me, I was astonished to find a slightly red, though dry-eyed, expressionless Beverly Rhodes standing before me. I could sense she was genuinely saddened by Daddy’s passing, but bless her Botox injected, paralyzed little heart. She couldn’t have shown it on her face if her life depended on it.
“Beverly,
are you the nurse who’s supposed to take me to the waiting room?”
With her face still as blank as a whiteboard
, Beverly replied, “Yes. Come on and I’ll show you where it is. I’m so sorry to hear about Samuel, Shiloh. But he’s in very good hands. Dr. Kupasami is one of the best surgeons around. He’ll be fine.”
Beverly led me to the surgical waiting room and
insisted she would keep me updated. I curled up in one of the beige leather chairs and prepared myself for a long, grueling wait.
Waiting here is going to be worse than down in that cave
…
After an hour had passed, Beverly stopped by to drag me off to the cafeteria for a bite to eat, her treat. I reluctantly accepted her offer. I wasn’t the least bit hungry
, but I knew my body
needed
something. She stayed and chatted while I ate. Even though her outsides had changed, her insides were still the same — just as bubbly, sweet, and kind-hearted as ever. Beverly was probably the only friend of Charlotte’s that I liked, and she was
always
friendly towards me — which reinforced my longtime claim that they were as different as night and day.