Seeking Nirvana

by V. L. Brock

  There was nothing I could do about my misplaced years. There was no magic medicine to administer to help spark something, no matter how trivial it may be. There was no magic procedure that the doctors of MA General could carry out like in some sci-fi movie, hook me up to more probes and wires and have my body zoom through a tunnel of flashing images while they flooded back.

  They were gone. At least, they were gone for now. And that was something I didn’t truly comprehend how demanding it would be to accept. But I had to accept it. Regardless.

  “Mr. DeLaney,” Leviton’s voice shaded my rapid pants as I fought for a lungful of air. “If I could have a talk with you outside please,” he requested.

  I unwillingly pulled myself away from the warm crook of Liam’s body, shifting my head from the consoling warmth and rhythmic rising and dropping of his chest, back onto the white cotton pillow. Striving to reassure me, he grazed his thumb over my knuckles as he thrust himself from the bed. “I won’t be a few minutes, baby,” he smiled.

  Everything at that point may have been buried in a dense, stifling fog, but the look in Irish’s eyes didn’t go unnoticed, as his gaze combed Liam while he was skirted at the foot of the bed, and trailed behind the sympathetic doctor into the hallway, closing the room door gently behind him. That grimace couldn’t have gone undetected, totally impossible. It was the lighthouse beaming through my fog, guiding me to a question that I really didn’t even wish to contemplate.

  Incalculable times I exhaled loudly, ousting all of my frustrations in one simple breath, but it didn’t help. My frustrations and alarm was as visible as the flat-cap on Irish’s head. Every fleeting moment which passed alongside a groan, had my agitation escalating, scaling higher and higher like one of those carnival attractions, where you hit the button with the hammer to see how strong you are. And I was very close to reaching the jackpot.

  Air was expelled in hefty grunts, while my fingers had become a knotted mass in my lap. Teeth were grinded and temperatures had rocketed as the silence turned into piercing bells ringing in my already aching head.

  “How do we…? How long have we…?” I wavered, my attention shifted from my blue woven cover, to the well-defined man at the foot of my cot. “How do I know you?”

  Seeing the corner of his lips curl into a smile, albeit a sad one, I felt the atmosphere in the room begin to normalize and adjust. It was no longer suffocating and awkward like it had been with Liam amongst the room’s occupants. With his hands hidden in the front of his dark, denim pockets, his arms pushing his plaid shirt back to showcase his white T-shirt that clung to his torso, he paced leisurely to my side.

  “We’ve known each other for about eighteen months. I work for, Liam.”

  “Eightee––” I sighed. Quelling the sense of uprising panic, I breathed in a deep breath, well, as deep as my smarting ribs would allow, and exhaled through pursed lips. Having a void that immense in my mind was too overwhelming. I instantly began to wish I didn’t ask such a stupid question, a question which would trigger an immeasurable degree of anxiety that I just didn’t need at that point. “You’re an architect, too?” I added.

  He sniggered then hung his head for a moment. When he lifted his gaze, his head was cocked; he looked adorable with that shy expression. Shaking his head, he licked his lips slowly. “No, I um…” he hesitated, and I sensed a degree of discomfiture radiating from him. “I’m in construction,” he sighed.

  “Oh,” is all I could muster, before he removed his hands from his pockets, and took position on the ugly green seat next to me. “Do you enjoy it?”

  Resting on the edge of the chair with his elbows supported on his knees, he rubbed his hands together, making circular motions over each of his palms, opting for nonchalance. “Its work,” he answered simply through an unconvincing grin.

  I could understand and appreciate that. Being a stripper was never on my list of desired employment opportunities. The way my stomach knotted, and the shame I felt every time someone asked me what I did for a living, was considerable. People always judge a book by its cover, that’s a fact. And it’s unnerving when you know people judge you because you’re not a doctor, a lawyer, an architect…but work is work.

  My attention shuffled from Irish to the door as I heard the click of the handle being pushed down. Liam stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

  “Hey,” I breathed.

  His soft, loving expression turned cold and hard, as he was welcomed by the sight of his employee sat beside me, leaning into his arms and only a few inches away from the bed itself. Liam may have been at the end of the room, but his jaw was working like Santa’s elves the day before Christmas Eve. Scowling, he stomped into the room with as much control as he could gather…which wasn’t a lot for Liam DeLaney; he was never able to keep a firm lid on his emotions.

  Still, Irish didn’t even batter an eyelid, let alone shift out of the seat, which made Liam worse.

  “What did the doctor say?” I asked, not only out of pure interest, but in an attempt to bring an end to the once again, thickening, hostile atmosphere.

  Taking extra caution not to snag my IV, he took a seat on the left of my bed. I watched and blenched as his thumb traced over my cracked, swelling mouth, before lingering over my lower lip. I couldn’t help but smile when I met his green and blue speckled eyes.

  “He said that…” he began but soon trailed off. The man to my right was shot a disdainful scowl. “You can go,” he snapped.

  I glance to my right, a V scorched into his dark brown eyebrows, his molded, pale lips hardened into a stubborn, firm line.

  “I said, go. There is no need for you to even be here now. Kady doesn’t even know you; you’ll get her confused.”

  “Very well,” Irish muttered on an outbreath. He pushed himself up slowly, and placed a kind hand over mine. Yes, you knew he definitely worked in construction, because callouses which covered his palm was scrapping across the back of my knuckles. “I’ll be around if you need anything, Kady. I won’t be far.”

  I felt the mattress quivering beneath me, as Liam’s body shook frenzied and incessantly. “She has me. She doesn’t need your charity,” he seethed.

  “Even still,” he lifted his head, his eyes narrowed at Liam in silent warning, before returning them to me. “I’ll be around. Nothing will change that,” he promised with a smile.

  “Thank you, that’s very kind, um…”

  I remember how his eyes blazed and how a twitch kissed the left corner of his mouth, a tiny dimple making an adorable appearance. It was a look that was both sad and hopeful. And although I have no idea why, it warmed me.

  “Walker. My name is, Walker.”

  “Walker,” I repeated, unmindful of how my lips and tongue had caressed the name––which to me––screamed both mystery and confidence, and his hand stiffened around my own. I reciprocated his shy grin with a nod of my head and hooded eyes. “Thank you, Walker.”

  The instant change in Liam as soon as Walker had left was palpable. He seemed himself, smiling, caring and loving, not some barbaric caveman with the sly scowls and fiery rage in his eyes which hurt just to witness, let alone being on the opposing end. The more I relaxed back into the familiar arms, and fell under the familiar stares and smiles of my boyfriend, the more I began to silently question the reasons for his caveman demeanor.

  “So what did the doctor say?” I badgered him again as he aided me with the plastic cup of water.

  “Well, your ribs are bruised as we already knew, and there’s no instant cure for––he called it, PTA or something, post-traumatic amnesia.”

  News like that should have scared the living shit out of me. But nothing substantial had seemed to have changed from what I could notice in the passing hours. I was still with my long-term boyfriend who cared for me, and who I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, would protect me until his dying day. “Figures,” I scoffed, however, I was mindful of that fearful part of me which was hiding beneath a confident façade.r />
  “But with photos and familiar faces and places, he’s confident that things will start to slip through the cracks.”

  I couldn’t lie to him. Over the time I remembered, he had seen me at both my good and my bad. I knew I could be honest with him…and that in effect, would led me to be honest with myself. “Liam,” I whined. He answered me in the most typical Liam styled way, with a raise of his eyebrows. “I’m scared.”

  His lips immediately came down and, with care for my swelling lip, slanted over mine. It felt strange kissing him with all that gruff on his face. I didn’t like it…not on my Liam.

  “Oh, Kady, baby,” he whispered, holding my face between his hands as delicately as he could. “I’m here; you have nothing to be scared of. Do you trust me, Kady?”

  I grimaced. “Of course I do, Liam. I trust you with my life.”

  “Then you know that I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

  Chapter Three

  As I fluttered my eyes open the following morning, I was surprisingly met with no stabbing pain and no annoying niggling pain as the sun charred through the right-hand window, and my head clearly wanted to celebrate.

  I was rubbing the last shards of sleep from the corner of my eyes when a brief knock on my door sounded. The tap was followed by a nurse, a doctor and Liam entering the room.

  “Good morning, Kady, baby,” Liam addressed me while carrying a tray with actual breakfast upon on it. I held my ribs as I adjusted my position. Although they smarted, a smile was instantly brought to my face. I didn’t particularly care that it was hospital food, I was just grateful for both the food, and his buoyant morning greeting. He set it on the wheeled-table at the foot of the bed.

  Before I even opened my mouth to reply, the husky voice of Doctor Leviton cut in. “Good morning, Kady, how are we feeling today?” He offered a brief glance at me sat up in the bed which felt cold and made me feel a stronger form of vulnerability, before resuming browsing through my charts.

  “My ribs are killing me, but my head isn’t as bad as yesterday.”

  “Good,” he peeked up from the file in his hands. “What about other physical aspects?”

  “I still feel a little weak, but my arms and legs are moving when I tell them to.” To me, having command over my body was the most important. I’m unashamed to admit that I would sit and will my finger to move just to make sure it would answer.

  “Today, I would like to try and get you up and around. If it proves too difficult, I will have the physiotherapist come to support.”

  I nodded.

  “What about your memory, Kady. Can you remember my name?”

  A sudden rush of unease and embarrassment engulfed me as he asked that question. Although I had no recollections, I understood that I had been in an accident; I understood that my memory had chunks ripped from it. But it was something about having that question asked which made me feel like a child learning their ABC’s again. “Doctor Leviton,” I replied with a frown that betrayed my incense.

  “And have you had any visitors, Kady?”

  That was it; I couldn’t quash the anger and the feeling that I had lost my dignity more than what I was feeling at that point. Needing help to hold things, the fucking catheter, and now having to be asked these types of questions…I was powerless to feel a degree of hope that I would discover the lost parts of my life, I felt like I was being tested to see how stupid I was.

  “Yes,” I mumbled through a gradual barrage of annoyed tears. “I’ve had Liam, who is my boyfriend, and his employee, Walker.”

  “Okay, Kady,” Leviton spoke softly, his tone pacifying. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just needed to know so we can see if there are any problems with your ability to lay down new memories. Can you still not remember anything from before the accident?”

  “I told you yesterday, the last thing I can remember is dancing with my best friend on one of the tables at my twenty-fourth birthday.”

  He merely nodded before shining that penlight in my eyes again, jotted something down on my chart, then left.

  Hours had passed in a blur of vitals being taken, pipes being removed, and Liam being too over caring. Whether it was fluffing my pillows, telling me how much he loved and missed me, constantly asking if I wanted anything, or if he could get me anything, he was all over it. All I wanted was him to stop fussing. I know that sounds ridiculous, I should have been on cloud nine with his tactile, demonstrative ways and hanging onto every word that tumbled from his lips. But it wasn’t Liam…not the Liam I remembered anyway.

  The Liam DeLaney I remembered was haughty yet playful, loving, not clingy. I knew I was the center of his world, even without his constant declarations of ‘I love you’. However, the man that was sitting in my boyfriend’s place was…I don’t know. I just knew that something was different with him. And for the first time since being on my own with him, I felt slightly unnerved by it. I didn’t want to admit it, but it made me realize how much someone can change in three years, and question even more about the memories that I was missing.

  “Kady, baby, I’m going to pop to the cafeteria for a coffee. Will you be okay on your own for a few minutes?”

  The weight laden on me internally was excessive, and I’d had enough of the amassing insinuations that I had reverted back to a fucking child. I couldn’t deal with Leviton treating me like one; I wasn’t going to take the same behavior from my boyfriend.

  I rolled my eyes so far back into my head I felt the muscles behind my eyes strain. “Liam,” with an over exaggerated toss of my arms, I allowed them to fall back into my lap with a thud. “I am not a baby; please stop treating me like one. What the Hell is wrong with you?” I snapped.

  His face fell along with his head. A number of moments ensued before silence was interrupted. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled in his deep, dark, rich voice, and lifted his head.

  I never knew it was possible for sturdy, ice-blue eyes to thaw someone’s facial expression, but mine did. He took my hand from my lap, kissed the back of my knuckles, and then held it against his heart. I felt the sincerity behind his apology, not just the words. That, added with the warmth of his body, the rise and fall of his chest while his heart pumped under my hand had me melting. Green and blue eyes shimmered while he sucked in a breath, my hand lifting as his chest expanded.

  “Baby, I thought I lost you. I didn’t know whether you would wake up, I didn’t know if you would be the same Kady I have spent the last five years of my life loving. I never told you often enough how much I love you, how much you mean to me.”

  I didn’t say anything to that. I couldn’t. The lump in my throat was suffocating me and the words that wanted to be freed. I suppose he was right, he could have lost me, I could have lost him. And for a moment, that austere notion made me appreciate life a little bit more.

  Lacking the words to speak, I just smiled and allowed his mouth to slant carefully over mine, while his heartfelt words span around in my head and melted my heart. I wasn’t familiar with this side of Liam; maybe he wasn’t familiar with it himself. But maybe, just maybe, those words were what needed to be heard and expressed for years.

  With his powder blue shirt tucked into his black pants, I admired the view as he headed for the door. I giggled and sighed.

  He spun on his heel to face me, a knowing smirk on his face. “What now?” With the advantage of my lips rolling over my teeth, I managed to swap my schoolgirl chuckles for a staunch expression while I waited for him to finish. “Is there anything you want, baby?” he asked me again.

  I thought for a moment then nodded while holding up two fingers. “Get rid of this,”––I gestured to my jawline with my right hand while curling my lip, which caused my man to laugh at me.

  “Granted. Anything else––”

  “And hurry back.”

  We were in the process of working out fifteen across in the Boston Times crossword puzzle. Liam was sitting back in the hideous green seat, his legs propped up on my bed with hi
s ankles crossed, when a head craned around the doorway followed by a softly-spoken, “Hellooo.” I didn’t even need to turn my head to the source to know exactly whose voice it was; only my mother could draw a two-syllable word out in two entirely different octaves.

  “Hey, Mom,” I welcomed her with a colossal grin on my face. I felt Liam shift his legs, and shot him a look, “Fifteen across, behemoth––colossal.”

  “Liam DeLaney, are you getting my daughter to solve that puzzle for you?” my dad snapped lively as he trailed behind my mother.

  “Two heads are better than one, Marcus,” he retorted, casting a wink in my direction. It took my breath away seeing him like that. It made me want to cling on to him and never let him go.

  “How is my daughter today?” Dad just managed to place a kiss on the top of my head, before Mom shooed him out of the way.

  “I’m so sorry it took us so long, sweetheart. We got the earliest flight they had.” She pressed a kiss on my brow and I breathed her in. She smelled like home.

  “It’s ridiculous; an hour flight from D.C. to Boston and it takes us nearly eight hours to get here.”

  “Marcus, we could have been here sooner, had you let Brittany catch a later flight,” Mom chided, rolling her pale blue eyes heavenward and shaking her head.

  “You can’t honestly think I am going to let her fly solo, Judy. She’d get lost on the way to the restroom and end up unlatching the bloody plane door. It’s not happening.”

  He was right; Brittany really was as ditsy as they came. I swear it was her who initiated blond jokes. As Grams often said, ‘If brains were dynamite, she wouldn’t have enough to blow her way through a paper bag’. I couldn’t help but grin.

  “Wait, Brittany’s here?”

  Before my question was even hanging in the air, a piercing voice reverberated around my flower-filled room. “Hey, sis,” she beamed, rushing to my side clutching a helium filled flower balloon in her hand.

  “Oh, my God, Brittany…” I faltered, and brought my hand to my mouth. I felt like a startled mare with this lively, curvy, pale woman skipping towards me with bright pink hair styled into a perfect cut bob. “What the Hell have you done to your hair? Please tell me that’s a wig.”