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Authors: C. E. Case
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reserves, though. Keeps my hand in. I have a little girl now."
"What's her name?"
"Sunisa. Sunisa Syha-Jackson. My parents wanted to kill me for going back to the traditional ways, but I feel the same way about them changing everything, you know?"
Jake had silver studs in each earlobe, black hair brushing his neck, and a leather bracelet on one arm. He didn't look traditional. But he was as friendly as everyone else she'd met.
"Why'd you come back to North Carolina, after the army?"
"Wanted to live at the beach. But the hospital's better here. Still, I go surfing every other weekend if I can."
"Sounds great," she said, closing her eyes.
"You surf?"
"Never have."
"I'll teach you. I give classes to all the Yankees who come for vacation."
"All right."
He moved on to her good leg, and lifted it. "Rotate your ankle."
She did. "This is my good leg."
"Sure, but it's just lyin' around. You don't want it not to remember how to move, once you're ready to stand on it. You'll flop right onto the floor."
"Ugh."
"How soon will it be?"
She sighed. "Today's the big day." She glanced at the bathroom. "There and back."
He squeezed her foot. "You'll do it."
"I don't know."
The thought exhausted her. Having an assigned physical therapist, long-term, instead of just the guys who did shifts at the hospital, exhausted her. Jake would be coming to Meredith's house. Nearly every day. She'd have to get him something for Christmas if this kept up. Him and Sunisa.
"You celebrate Christmas, Jake?"
He began working on her arms. "Yeah. But we're Buddhist. Gotta go down to Cape Fear for the big celebrations. Yet another reason to live at the beach. Sit up?"
She tried to sit up. "Stomach hurts."
He put his arms around her waist, supporting her back. She found she didn't mind being touched by him, being near him, even though he smelled like cheap cologne and she was only in a flimsy hospital gown.
"Put your hands on my shoulders and try again."
She pulled herself up, and it hurt, but nothing pulled. "Okay."
"And you're not even breathing hard."
"Will it get easier?"
"Of course it will. Faster than you think. You'll forget all this."
"Never."
He grinned and patted her hand. "I'll be back on Tuesday. Don't slip on the way to the bathroom. There are parts of you I don't want to massage."
"You haven't even seen my tattoo."
He wolf-whistled, and left her alone to contemplate lunch and her great adventure of the afternoon. By the time she saw Meredith, she might have something to brag about.
#
Meredith could tell from the tension in Natalie’s expression she was in some pain. Meredith brought dinner from the cafeteria--French toast with fresh fruit and bacon. She brought it in, feeling apprehensive in the face of Natalie's mood change.
"For dinner?" Natalie asked.
"It's Breakfast Tuesday," Meredith said.
"I never noticed." Natalie picked up her fork, but just sat glumly staring at the toast.
"Television?" Meredith asked. The natural desensitizer when people didn't want to feel anymore.
Natalie nodded.
Meredith turned on the television and found the six o'clock sitcoms on. Natalie nibbled on bacon. Beyond the grayness of her complexion, Natalie's hair was washed and her hospital gown was crisp. The bruises were faded from her face and arms. Except for the shaved part of her head, she looked halfway to healthy.
Meredith kept quiet until the first commercial break, and then asked, "You smell like--strawberries?"
"Yeah. Colleen brought it for me, now that I can do my own sponge baths. Well, I helped. I was sweaty this afternoon. Can you believe it? Sweaty. From lying in bed."
"Well, that's not all you did today, is it? You exerted yourself."
"Barely," Natalie said. She sighed.
Meredith reached for a raspberry on Natalie's plate.
Natalie said, "I just can't believe I can't walk across a room without my entire body hurting. I want to lie in bed for a week. And with enough drugs in my leg to put down a rhinoceros."
"Two weeks
"What's her name?"
"Sunisa. Sunisa Syha-Jackson. My parents wanted to kill me for going back to the traditional ways, but I feel the same way about them changing everything, you know?"
Jake had silver studs in each earlobe, black hair brushing his neck, and a leather bracelet on one arm. He didn't look traditional. But he was as friendly as everyone else she'd met.
"Why'd you come back to North Carolina, after the army?"
"Wanted to live at the beach. But the hospital's better here. Still, I go surfing every other weekend if I can."
"Sounds great," she said, closing her eyes.
"You surf?"
"Never have."
"I'll teach you. I give classes to all the Yankees who come for vacation."
"All right."
He moved on to her good leg, and lifted it. "Rotate your ankle."
She did. "This is my good leg."
"Sure, but it's just lyin' around. You don't want it not to remember how to move, once you're ready to stand on it. You'll flop right onto the floor."
"Ugh."
"How soon will it be?"
She sighed. "Today's the big day." She glanced at the bathroom. "There and back."
He squeezed her foot. "You'll do it."
"I don't know."
The thought exhausted her. Having an assigned physical therapist, long-term, instead of just the guys who did shifts at the hospital, exhausted her. Jake would be coming to Meredith's house. Nearly every day. She'd have to get him something for Christmas if this kept up. Him and Sunisa.
"You celebrate Christmas, Jake?"
He began working on her arms. "Yeah. But we're Buddhist. Gotta go down to Cape Fear for the big celebrations. Yet another reason to live at the beach. Sit up?"
She tried to sit up. "Stomach hurts."
He put his arms around her waist, supporting her back. She found she didn't mind being touched by him, being near him, even though he smelled like cheap cologne and she was only in a flimsy hospital gown.
"Put your hands on my shoulders and try again."
She pulled herself up, and it hurt, but nothing pulled. "Okay."
"And you're not even breathing hard."
"Will it get easier?"
"Of course it will. Faster than you think. You'll forget all this."
"Never."
He grinned and patted her hand. "I'll be back on Tuesday. Don't slip on the way to the bathroom. There are parts of you I don't want to massage."
"You haven't even seen my tattoo."
He wolf-whistled, and left her alone to contemplate lunch and her great adventure of the afternoon. By the time she saw Meredith, she might have something to brag about.
#
Meredith could tell from the tension in Natalie’s expression she was in some pain. Meredith brought dinner from the cafeteria--French toast with fresh fruit and bacon. She brought it in, feeling apprehensive in the face of Natalie's mood change.
"For dinner?" Natalie asked.
"It's Breakfast Tuesday," Meredith said.
"I never noticed." Natalie picked up her fork, but just sat glumly staring at the toast.
"Television?" Meredith asked. The natural desensitizer when people didn't want to feel anymore.
Natalie nodded.
Meredith turned on the television and found the six o'clock sitcoms on. Natalie nibbled on bacon. Beyond the grayness of her complexion, Natalie's hair was washed and her hospital gown was crisp. The bruises were faded from her face and arms. Except for the shaved part of her head, she looked halfway to healthy.
Meredith kept quiet until the first commercial break, and then asked, "You smell like--strawberries?"
"Yeah. Colleen brought it for me, now that I can do my own sponge baths. Well, I helped. I was sweaty this afternoon. Can you believe it? Sweaty. From lying in bed."
"Well, that's not all you did today, is it? You exerted yourself."
"Barely," Natalie said. She sighed.
Meredith reached for a raspberry on Natalie's plate.
Natalie said, "I just can't believe I can't walk across a room without my entire body hurting. I want to lie in bed for a week. And with enough drugs in my leg to put down a rhinoceros."
"Two weeks
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