I'm not okay...yet

I’m watching television in bed, but the only thing I can seem to think about is the empty jello cup sitting on the tray above my lap. I haven’t gotten out of been since I first woke up a week ago. My day nurse, Sandy, has had to carry me to the bathroom every so often, but besides that I’ve been stuck were I am. Sandy is sitting with me now. She notices my interest and gets out of her chair to throw it away for me. I block her arm when she reaches for it. “No, I’ll do it.” I whisper too quickly, almost in a panic. She sighs and smiles, pity blanketing her face. Is it weird that I pity her, rather than myself right now? She’s the one that has to attend to gimps like me until she’s old enough to retire, I’ll be done with all this in a matter of months. “Wait here for a moment. I’ll get you a wheelchair.” She tells me and I nod. That’s right, I need a wheelchair now…almost forgot. When she comes back she helps me into it and while I roll over to the garbage can I ask her when I can leave the hospital. She says hopefully in a few weeks, the day after I get my stitches removed. If I did the math correctly, that should be a few days before we have to go to the driver’s trial. Gee wants him to go to jail for a long time. Charlotte doesn’t want him to get off easily either. Frank’s on my side though, parole and AA meetings should suffice unless he gets out of hand. The detective on the case gave me his file to read and I don’t think he’s a bad person, even if he did hit me with his car while drunk. His name is Tyler Garretson and he’s thirty four. He’s supposed to visit me in a few days so we can talk. I’m nervous about it and I can’t tell Gee or Char, but it might help when I testify. “Can I explore a little while before my friends get here in a little bit?” I ask Sandy and she says it’s okay. It gives her a chance to start working on some of her other responsibilities: paper work and clinic hours (etc.). I go down to the lobby and figure I’ll take Gerard, Frank and Charlotte with me to the cafeteria when they get here. The lobby’s carpeted floor is an annoying shade of blue, a little darker than the paint they ruined the walls with. There’s a TV attached to the corner of the room playing fox news. I roll over to the other side of the automatic double doors because there’s no television on that side of the room. Gerard will be so happy to see me out of bed and surprised that I’m out of my room. He’s been trying to figure out how to get me up a lot for the past few days. The sooner I’m out, the sooner we can all help Frank accept the fact that Charlotte’s going to be gone soon and there’s nothing we can do about it. Right now I’m sitting in between a middle aged man wearing a black button up shirt and a white tie with a mustard stain who looks like Sylvester Stallone, wringing his hands endlessly and a man who seems pretty close to my age with black hair dyed electric blue in the middle and gelled up into a faux hawk. Faux hawk is wearing a pair of tight jeans and a black wife beater, chin resting on his hand, elbow resting on the wooden arm of the old upholstered chair. He’s humming softly to himself with his eyes closed and tapping his foot rhythmically. There’s a scar on the back of his hand running from the base of his middle finger down his wrist, it looks almost six inches long. Most people here are crying at various speeds and volumes, Stallone on my right has slow soft tears while a young woman across from me is weeping loudly, but faux- hawk shows no emotion. I take a deep breathe and I guess he notices, because he opens his eyes and stops humming. He pulls the foot he was just tapping away with onto his knee and taps my shoulder, cocking his head to the side. “Hi, I’m Jared Talymenn. And you are?” He asks me, sticking his hand out for me to shake and grinning while he waits for me to respond. “Alice, My name is Alice Taurenscai.” I tell him and when I shake his hand I notice that it’s just a little sweaty. He has soft thin hands, flawless except for the scar. It’s thinner on the part that runs down his hand, but thicker and darker on his wrist. He catches me staring, crap. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you all about my scar, if you tell me about the one on the side of your face. Is that alright with you?” “That’s fine”, I tell him, “but my friends are going to be here to visit any minute. Can you meet me in my room at seven? It’s room 45C.” As he nods in response, I hear my name. It’s Lottie shouting. Gerard and Frank follow her in and surround me. Gee grabs the handles of the wheelchair behind my shoulder blades and starts steering me towards the cafeteria. I wave goodbye to Jared behind me and listen as the terrible three chatter about the triumph they feel in my getting out of that little room, the cage-like hospital bed. We eat pizza and keep the conversation light for the four hours we have together. At six thirty Gee pushes me back to my room and lifts me onto the bed. He kisses my forehead, says goodbye and waits outside the door for the others. Charlotte is next. She tells me that she thinks Frank is coming to terms with her diagnosis, or at least as best as anyone in their situation can. She says that they have been and are trying to make the most of the time they have left. After they visit me, they go some where fun, have a little date. They’ve gone to the closest zoo, the museums of art and history and anywhere else they can find. She says they’ve been saving going to the Grand Canyon until I can go with them and bring Gerard with me. I’m grateful for that and I tell her that we’ll go they day Dr. Felton lets me leave. She hugs me before she joins Gerard outside the door. When Frank is the only one left he sits on the bed next to my feet. “Thanks for bringing me along on your little road trip of horrors.” He says sarcastically. “so far there’s been secrets, cancer, nightmares, a drunk driving accident, and this little stunt you’ve got here. You seriously couldn’t avoid breaking your ankle and messing it up for everyone for a little while longer?” He chuckles. “How am I ever going to be able to function without her?” He asks me, voice breaking, desperate. “You just will. It’ll be hard for a while, but you’ll learn to live again. She’ll never just be a memory; she’ll always be your first love, but it’ll bet easier. Trust me, I know. Remember when I lost James? I spent the entire summer listening to sad songs and eating chocolate ice cream in my room, crying in the dark, but I eventually realized that he wouldn’t have wanted me to stay upset. He’d want me to live my life and that’s what I’m doing. Lottie would want you to live your life too, okay? You and I both know that.” I tell him, and then hug him around his shoulders. “Oh and could you wash my blanket and some of my clothes before you guys come back and bring ‘em to me? I’m tired of hospital gowns and these cheap-ass sheets.” I ask, thinking fondly of my blue checkered blanket and duffel bag full of band merch tank tops, skinny jeans and hoodies that are probably still in the back of my jeep. He nods and smiles. “Thanks, Alice. You’re a good friend.” He says. “No thank you, Frank, After all she is my niece.” I respond as he strides through the door and walks away with my boyfriend and best friend. The clock says ten till seven. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I wake up to the sight of three people sitting in the chairs across from my bed. It’s eight o’ clock; visiting hours ended half an hour ago. This means they’re either some sort of relatives or other patients that snuck out of their rooms. I don’t think any family other than Charlotte knows about this, unless maybe she told Annette, but that’s where it would end. As for the patient theory, I don’t know any other people currently being treated here. I rub my eyes and drag the sleep out of them, clearing up the haze. I can’t believe it. My mother is in my hospital room, Henry sitting next to her, Jared in the corner. I think I’m going to have a panic attack. My heart is beating out of sync and my breathing is quick, staggered. My head is light and my hands are shaking. Why is she here? How did she find out where I was? I lift myself out of bed and into my wheelchair. Her eyes are closed and so are Henry’s and Jared’s. I roll over to the door, making the least amount of noise I possibly can. The doorknob creaks a little, but they don’t seem to notice. “I’m sorry, Henry.” I whisper as I make my way to the fire escape door. There I consider my options: do I go back and face her or run and avoid all the questions she’ll ask? I don’t want to talk to her but still, I have so many questions of my own. I turn and go to the elevator, press the button and go up one to the fourth floor. I fly down the hallway, hands in the air, rolling full speed. Then, pull the brake right in front of the roof door. I scoot forward to the edge of my seat and drop my cast down onto the ground. My other foot follows, pushing out. My hands break my fall and guide my arms, pulling me up the building’s highest flight of stairs. From there I crawl over to the edge of the roof. Kneeling, I can see over the ledge and out across the area. The sand on the ground stretches for miles, grass is a taboo here. There are cars passing by and street lights on, like little stars in the distance being born and dying out. I feel like I’m watching eons go by in mere minutes. I’m much calmer now and I think I’ll be able to handle whatever is waiting for me in my antiseptic filled cage. I’m able to trek down and slip back into bed by ten thirty, but I can’t fall asleep tonight. I slip in my ear buds and turn on La Dispute’s woman (in mirror), then woman (reading) and they remind me of the way I used to find Gee staring at me while we would do our homework together or cook, watch television or go out dancing with Mikey, Frank, Charlotte, Bob and before eight months ago…James. It makes me wonder how long he’s had feelings for me and I haven’t known, haven’t realized. I’ve listened to my entire musical library by one in the morning. I wrap my earbuds up and put my MP3 in the little drawer of my nightstand. Jared stirs, but doesn’t wake up. Mother starts snoring. She sounds like a lawn mower and wakes up Henry. He walks over to me after noticing that I’m awake too and turns my wheelchair towards the bed, then sits down in it. “I want…no, I need answers. Alice, you and I both know that you can’t just leave me in the dark anymore. I’m not that much younger than you, whatever it is I’m sure I can handle it. I deserve to know, don’t I?” He pleads, sounding desperate. I always hate it when I hear his voice waver like this. “Of course you deserve to know, Punky, you know I love you and I think you should be treated like an adult, but I don’t think it would be right to bring you into any of this: the trip, the reason we left, the accident, the testimony. It just wouldn’t be fair for you to have to worry is all.” I squeeze his hand and he almost smiles, but I see it in his eyes. It doesn’t matter if I tell him any of it or not, he’s going to worry regardless of how much he’s let in on. That’s just one of the many ways he and I are similar I guess. I might as well tell him. I take a deep breath and for a moment I swear my lungs are tied to my heart with twine instead of cell tissue. It feels like my heart weighs a thousand pounds and it pulls my lungs down, gravity magnified in only my chest cavity. He looks up at me, eyes so pure, he has no idea what my memory holds and though I don’t blame him for being curious, I wish he wouldn’t ask these questions. For his sake, besides my own and Gerard’s, Charlotte’s, Mikey’s, he doesn’t need this burden, not now, not ever. “Henry”, I begin to whisper, “You can’t tell anyone these things. They’ll have been told other stories, lies as answer to these questions if they ever do or ever have thought to ask them. If they ever knew the truth, police would come around, lawyers would follow, people at school would talk, and rumors would be spread farther than you’d like to think or believe.” He interrupts me, which I should be used to, having lived with him his entire life. “But Alie, you’ve never cared about what the people in town or the kids at school have thought, why would you worry about that now?” He asks. I shake my head “Because I don’t want them to bring you into any of it, that’s why. I don’t care what they say about me, but they’ll try to talk to you about it, ask you questions, and tell you things that you know aren’t true. I don’t want them to bother you like that, baby brother; I want them to leave you alone.” He just smiles, showing that one crooked front tooth of his that makes him look younger than he really is. A little chuckle comes out of him. “But Alice, it doesn’t matter what anyone at school thinks. What matters is the truth…and how you feel about.” He says, grin glued to his face. I ruffle up his hair. “See, I’ve always known that you’re smart. Alright, I guess I’ll start at the beginning. You don’t want to get some sleep first and I’ll tell you later?” I ask. “This could take a while.” Henry shakes his head and says he wants the story now, the whole story.

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