He
flinched at my touch. I recoiled, breath heavy in my ears. I backed away,
distancing myself for his good as well as mine.
“James… James…” I heard Danforth’s voice in my ears as I
covered my head with my hands, stumbling backwards to sit down hard on the
couch. “I’m sure that your father is in a better—“
“He is NOT in a better place!” I screamed. “You people…you
tell us that the people we love are in a better place when you don’t know. You
didn’t know Ellis Marlowe, man.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Danforth said. “Can I call a
counselor for you? A chaplain?”
I realized then that he had delivered this news before, had
seen reactions before. And more than anything, he was working from a script.
His words were planned, calculated. I had managed to evade the call to security
so far, but it was a short step away. There was too much to be done, without
being detained.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s…a shock.”
The smile came back to the doctor’s face, kind and patient.
“Take me to him,” I said.
“What?” His smile was gone again.
“I need to see him,” I said, stepping closer. “Now.”
Danforth didn’t say another word to me. He led the way, and
I followed him down the hall, turning when he turned, void of thought and
direction. He led me into a trauma room.
Ellis Marlowe was on the table, a sheet draped over him. A
nurse was cleaning up. She turned, surprised that I was there. Danforth calmed
her with a gesture, and she nodded and slipped out.
I walked to the side of the table and pulled the sheet back.
Ellis lay there, pale and tranquil. He had been intubated. I reached for it.
“No, you can’t…” Danforth said, approaching.
“Get away from me,” I said.
I roughly pushed him away from me with one hand without
turning to face him. He was hardly a threat to me. He stumbled back, considered
his options. His footsteps stopped, then retreated slowly as I pulled the tape
from Ellis’ face and extracted the tube from his throat.
When Danforth was gone, I began to cry over my father’s
body. The sobbing wracked my body and my legs gave out. I fell to my knees at
his side and cursed myself and cursed God.
A sickening cocktail of doubt and anger poured into my gut.
My eyes blinked away the tears, and I knew what I would do next. Right or
wrong, the path was there before me.
The static of the security guard’s radio jolted me back to
the present. I kissed my father’s forehead and threw the sheet back over him. I
pushed through a side door and disappeared into the bowels of the hospital.
I ran my hands through my hair and blew out a deep sigh as I
walked. I needed to move quickly. I checked a hospital directory. I found
orthopedics and headed in that general direction.
It did not take me long to find an abandoned nurses’
station. I heard voices around the corner discussing what was outdated in the
break room refrigerator and could Brenda please stop leaving her yogurts in the
door every time she went on a diet.
I spotted a white doctor’s coat slung over the back of a
chair and picked it up. Casting a glance up and down the hall, I slipped it on.
From my pocket, I produced the security badge of Dr. Danforth. He had not
noticed that I had taken it when I pushed him. Probably would not realize his
mistake for an hour or so, and that was all I needed.
The venture into Ortho was a little more dangerous, and I
was prepared to either bolt or fake mental illness. Not much a stretch to be
honest.
It took some rummaging but I found a cast saw. I did not
hesitate, although perhaps I should have shown more caution. But I did not. I
went to work. I cut through the plaster until I could crack it open and free my
hand. I brushed away the dust and looked at my forearm. The skin was pale and
itchy, covered in dead skin. I scratched it, rubbed it, massaged. Finally
decided that it felt good. As good as I could expect.
I heard footsteps and
flinched at my touch. I recoiled, breath heavy in my ears. I backed away,
distancing myself for his good as well as mine.
“James… James…” I heard Danforth’s voice in my ears as I
covered my head with my hands, stumbling backwards to sit down hard on the
couch. “I’m sure that your father is in a better—“
“He is NOT in a better place!” I screamed. “You people…you
tell us that the people we love are in a better place when you don’t know. You
didn’t know Ellis Marlowe, man.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Danforth said. “Can I call a
counselor for you? A chaplain?”
I realized then that he had delivered this news before, had
seen reactions before. And more than anything, he was working from a script.
His words were planned, calculated. I had managed to evade the call to security
so far, but it was a short step away. There was too much to be done, without
being detained.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s…a shock.”
The smile came back to the doctor’s face, kind and patient.
“Take me to him,” I said.
“What?” His smile was gone again.
“I need to see him,” I said, stepping closer. “Now.”
Danforth didn’t say another word to me. He led the way, and
I followed him down the hall, turning when he turned, void of thought and
direction. He led me into a trauma room.
Ellis Marlowe was on the table, a sheet draped over him. A
nurse was cleaning up. She turned, surprised that I was there. Danforth calmed
her with a gesture, and she nodded and slipped out.
I walked to the side of the table and pulled the sheet back.
Ellis lay there, pale and tranquil. He had been intubated. I reached for it.
“No, you can’t…” Danforth said, approaching.
“Get away from me,” I said.
I roughly pushed him away from me with one hand without
turning to face him. He was hardly a threat to me. He stumbled back, considered
his options. His footsteps stopped, then retreated slowly as I pulled the tape
from Ellis’ face and extracted the tube from his throat.
When Danforth was gone, I began to cry over my father’s
body. The sobbing wracked my body and my legs gave out. I fell to my knees at
his side and cursed myself and cursed God.
A sickening cocktail of doubt and anger poured into my gut.
My eyes blinked away the tears, and I knew what I would do next. Right or
wrong, the path was there before me.
The static of the security guard’s radio jolted me back to
the present. I kissed my father’s forehead and threw the sheet back over him. I
pushed through a side door and disappeared into the bowels of the hospital.
I ran my hands through my hair and blew out a deep sigh as I
walked. I needed to move quickly. I checked a hospital directory. I found
orthopedics and headed in that general direction.
It did not take me long to find an abandoned nurses’
station. I heard voices around the corner discussing what was outdated in the
break room refrigerator and could Brenda please stop leaving her yogurts in the
door every time she went on a diet.
I spotted a white doctor’s coat slung over the back of a
chair and picked it up. Casting a glance up and down the hall, I slipped it on.
From my pocket, I produced the security badge of Dr. Danforth. He had not
noticed that I had taken it when I pushed him. Probably would not realize his
mistake for an hour or so, and that was all I needed.
The venture into Ortho was a little more dangerous, and I
was prepared to either bolt or fake mental illness. Not much a stretch to be
honest.
It took some rummaging but I found a cast saw. I did not
hesitate, although perhaps I should have shown more caution. But I did not. I
went to work. I cut through the plaster until I could crack it open and free my
hand. I brushed away the dust and looked at my forearm. The skin was pale and
itchy, covered in dead skin. I scratched it, rubbed it, massaged. Finally
decided that it felt good. As good as I could expect.
I heard footsteps and
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