“Don’t worry,” one of them, whom Bri knew as Dana after taking a closer look at her name tag, said. “We have her record. We know.”
The nurses glanced frequently at each other as if they had no clue how to deal this particular young mother who just lost her only child.
“Don't you think you should call someone, maybe your mother to…,” Dana said, trying her best to distract Bri as the other two nurses spoke in hushed tones.
“I don't have a mom.”
“Oh, I'm sorry.”
Bri looked past Dana's shoulder. Dana edged a little to the side in an attempt to block her view.
“They're working on her,” Dana said. “Do you have anyone you'd like to call for support?”
“My aunt, but she won't be available.” Dana silently twisted her bottom lip. She had no clue what to do to help Bri leave her baby and let the right persons take charge.
“What about friends?”
“I can't. Please, is she….” Bri rose and threw anxious glances around the room. “Where have they taken her?”
Dana rose and braced for uncertainty. “They….” Lost for words to say, Dana reached for Bri”s hand and took it in hers. “I know this is really hard for you.”
“No!” Bri snatched her hand out of Dana's grip. “Where's my baby? You tricked me. Bri's body shook as she cried. Warm tears burning her cheeks as they flowed freely.
“I wish I can help you take this pain away.”
Bri raised her tear-filled face. “Let me hold her please, please.”
“Bri, we have to keep the body in a cool place.” This sent Bri to another whole level of pain. She began to gasp for air. “Bri, you ok?” Bri wheezed and slumped to the ground. Dana managed to break her fall before her head touched the tiled floor.
She hurried, searching for something soft to lay Bri's head and then reached for the white call bell hanging beside the one bed in the room.
In no time, sounds of hasty feet occupied the hallway. Two nurse half ran into the room. One of them went on her knees beside Dana.
“What happened?” she said, and then yanked the stethoscope off her shoulders.
“She fainted. She was crying, and then suddenly started gasping for air before slumping to the ground,” Dana said
Ruth, the Philippine nurse of about forty-something years checked for a pulse.
“Her pulse is faint,” she said, before dropping Bri's hand back to the floor.
“I did some CPR on her. She literally passed out.”
“Bri,” Ruth said, hoping for a response from her, but nothing. She did a routine check on her. “Let’s get her on the bed.”
“Rose,” Dana said, turning to a transfixed newbie who just started her internship as a nurse. “We’d need your help.”
Rose took a swift step towards them and positioned herself as taught in lifting a non-moving body off the ground.
“On my count. 1-2-3 and then the three ladies grunted as they struggled to move Bri with the help of a bedsheet of the ground. They panted and smiled at their success. Dana turned to Rose.
“What a way to start eh!”
“This is just the tip of the iceberg,” Ruth added. “Be ready to stitch gashing wounds, clean blood….” Rose cringed. Ruth stopped and then turned to Dana who in turn stared back at her.
“If you can’t stand the sight of blood, then you’re not cut out for this job,” Dana said.
“This is a humanitarian job. Once you see your patients in pain, all irritation flies out the window. You switch to rescue mode. You don’t want to see them die in your care. They automatically become your responsibility,” Ruth said. “Dana, get the doctor before we place her on admission,” she said.
19
⸙
Bri stirred and then stopped. She listened to the sounds outside her ward. She sniffed at the familiar odor in her room. Am in a hospital? What am I doing in a hospital? Then, like a creeping snake, it dawned on her.
Silent sobs escaped her lips as the tears crept out of her closed hers. Then, the sobs grew louder and louder. Her chest heaved from the immeasurable pain of losing the most treasured person in her life.
As she managed to pry her eyelids open, an aching pain hit her eyes. She winced, and used her hand as a shade against blinding, bright light. The lighting in her room was causing a headache.
A female coughed startling Bri. She'd thought she was alone. She turned and then froze.
“Bri,” how are you feeling? We came as soon as we heard.” Her aunt said. She looked deeply concerned.
She turned in the direction of the voice. Her aunt stood beside an emaciated woman leaning her back against her backrest.
“Sasha is gone.” And, like a freed levee, Bri let loose her tears.
“I'm so sorry,” her aunt said, walking towards her to sit by her. Bri's mom sat, too weak to rise from her seat, her eyes flooded with tears.
“It’ll be alright,” she said in a weak voice. “I'll make sure of that,” her mom said.
Bri's head snapped up.
“Really?” she sniffled. “How are you fixing to do that?” she snapped. By drinking yourself to sleep and throwing me out of your life?” She turned to her aunt who suddenly went mute, as if to say, this is your battle, not mine. “Why is she here? To celebrate the death of the grandchild she disowned?” Bri sobbed into her palms now covering her face.
Her aunt reached for her back and rubbed it gently.
“She wanted to come see you.”
“I don't need her anymore.”
“I'm so sorry,” her mother said and broke down crying.”
“Bri, don't do this to your mom,” her aunt said, rising to calm her sister down. “You need to be calm now. Remember what the doctor said.”
“She hates me,” her mom said in a weaker voice.
“No, she doesn’t. She’s grieving.” Her aunt turned to Bri. “I know there’s a lot of emotion going on within you, but, please, don’t take it out on your mom. She’s also going through a lot right now.”
Bri turned her head the other way. She wiped a tear, or two off her face and sniffled.
“I”ll never forgive her, never. For choosing to cast me out of her life until Sasha died. I called her when I gave birth to my baby and said, mom, she's here! My baby is here….” But she just mumbled and hung the phone on me.”
Bri's aunt turned to her mom, gazed at her with pity in her eyes, and then turned to Bri.
“Your mom is battling with stage four cancer.”
Bri turned in surprise. Her mouth gaped.
“No. No, tell me….”
“Please, don't,” her mom said in a barely audible voice.
“She has to know now. She thinks you neglected her out of spite,” her aunt said.
“No. I don’t want to know.” Bri pleaded.
“It’s too late now,” her aunt persisted.
“Nurse!” Bri screamed, crying. She pushed on the call bell until a nurse appeared.
“You okay?” the nurse asked.
“Get me out of here,” Bri pleaded. “I can't take it anymore.” She cried. The nurse glanced around the room as if wondering if the two women present weren't Bri’s family, before seating on the spot once occupied by Bri's aunt.
You'll be discharged in about ten minutes if that's okay by you.”
“No. It's not okay. Where's my daughter, Sasha?”
“Um,” shocked by the sudden question, and having been warned by the other nurses to be sensitive to Bri”s questions, the nurse glanced at the only woman who seemed able to help her. Bri's aunt nodded no. “I'll have to ask about that,” she said and turned to her aunt who nodded yes.
Bri was discharged at the exact time the nurse promised, and then faced another tough decision to leave the hospital without her child.
20
⸙
The day started as a serene and sunny day; a somber day for Bri and her family. Then, as the day progressed, the sky began to turn gray. As gray
as Bri's emotions.
It was the day arranged for her baby to be cremated in the crematorium. It was her choice to keep her baby close to her, not far away in a cold graveyard where she would've to visit once in a while. She had bought an urn according to the size she was asked to provide for the ashes.
She had also asked to be excused from attending the crematorium, asking her aunt to stand in her stead. She couldn't bear to witness her baby been burned, but she wanted her ashes and had stated that, when she died, she wanted the urn buried with her.
“How are you feeling,” her mom asked. She, too, wouldn't be at the crematorium.
“Numb,” Bri said, and then sniffled. She had chosen to forgive her mother after hearing her side of the story.
Her mother had already started battling throat cancer before Bri got pregnant. She had kept it away from Bri so she would focus on her studies. She didn't want her illness to distract Bri from her studies.
Her sister had been aware of this, too. Sending Bri away was the best thing she thought she had done knowing her sister would take her in.
Since leaving the hospital, Bri moved in with her mother and became her caregiver. She prepared her meals, held her hand when she walked and took her to the doctor. She made sure her mother was well cared for and took her new role as an escape from her loss. Although, her mother's love would never replace her baby's absence.
“I feel terribly sad,” Bri said, and then broke down crying. She rose and headed to the glass window drenched with rainwater, and watched as the raindrops hit the window and cascade down. She looked beyond the window and glanced at empty space.
Pictures of Sasha played in her head. She could hear her voice laughing, feel her touch, and smell her. Tears poured down her face, and then she shuddered and turned around.
She didn't hear her mother rise and come to her. Her mom spread her emaciated arms and wrapped them around Bri.
“You'll have other kids, I promise,” she said, wiping Bri's tears. “And you'll marry a very caring man who will sweep you off your feet. You just watch and see.”
“If I survive this pain. I don't know if I can go through life after this.”
“You can. I know you can.”
The rain let up before her aunt returned from the crematorium, with a pink marble urn. A baby angel laid on the roof of the urn as if protecting the ashes that were once a living being.
Upon setting her eyes on the urn now representing her daughter, Bri broke down and fell on her knees crying.
“It's not supposed to be this way. She should be alive, not dead,” Bri wept. Her mom and aunt wiping off their tears as well, gently raised her up to her feet and sat her on the couch.
She picked up the urn off the soft couch where she had placed it to console Bri, and extended her arms. Bri looked up at the urn, her eyes filled with sorrow.
She extended her arms slowly and welcomed her daughter back into her arms. Tears running down her cheeks. She sniffled. Opened her mouth to say something, but not a word came out.
She rose, with the urn, and walked to her bedroom. Once in, she laid the urn on one side of her bed and laid beside it, wishing she would fall asleep and never wake up.
Life meant nothing to her anymore.
But she did wake up the next morning, and many mornings after that. It was one of those mornings she lost her mother to cancer.
Although, Bri had seen it coming, but it still came as a shock to her. She had hoped for some sort of miracle, just as many others survived their courageous battle with the disease.
Her mother had stopped going for chemotherapy despite Bri’s insistence and stopped taking her pills to Bri’s chagrin.
“I have found Christ, and he'll heal me of my diseases,” her mom had said.
“But God gave the doctors the wisdom to invent these medications to heal mankind. He could heal you through the doctors as well,” Bri said, nearly cursing out her mom's newly formed friends who must've advised her against taking the only thing that had kept her together, other than God.
“They make me feel weak and dependent.”
“They keep you alive,” Bri said.
“I’m done with them. Jesus will heal me. That, I believe.”
“Mom,” Bri sniffled. I've been through a lot. Please, don't make me an orphan.”
Bri slapped against her arm. A hungry mosquito had bitten and pulled her out of her thought. She rose from the grass of the empty playground and gazed in the sky.
At least, mom is with Sasha, now. That was her sole consolation. It was the anchor that held her down.
21
⸙
“You look like a stickman,” Flo said, scrutinizing Bri. “You lost a lot of weight.”
“I lost everything,” Bri replied without as much as take a glance at herself. She knew she had lost weight. She had a mirror that she stared at every morning when she woke as she traced the deep circle below her eyes.
“Do you even shut your eyes at night?” Bri nodded no. “Why?”
“All I dream about is the dead. I can't sleep.”
“How long are you going to torture yourself? It’s been over three weeks since your mom passed away.”
“I know, but I can't help it. I would if I could. They meant the world to me.”
“I know if you could hear them speak, they would want you to move on, be happy.”
“That would take time.”
“How much time?”
I don't know,” Bri said, and shrugged. Flo sighed.
“Well, am glad you agreed to come spend the weekend at my house.”
“On the agreement that no one from school shows up at your house unexpectedly.”
“I can't promise you a hundred percent that I’m going to make you a hermit. Besides, I don't see anyone popping in without giving me a call first.”
“I'm trusting you on that,” Bri said and resumed folding a few of her clothes into a night bag.
“Do you know tomorrow is Steve's sentencing?” Bri stopped. “He's facing five years in prison for attempted murder.”
“Oh, my God!” Bri said quietly. I wonder how he's feeling about it. I should go see him.” Flo smiled.
“You know he really loves you. A part of me tells me his rage was more about Hunter slept with you and then denied it and treated you with disdain. I watched Steve each time Hunter walked by him and saw his fist clench, and his eyes almost bloodshot. He had been planning on inflicting some sort of injury on Hunter, and then his sister got pregnant with him. That was the final straw.”
“I wish he hadn't done what he did,” Bri said, staring into space.
“Who? Hunter, or Steve?”
“Steve.”
“Why? He needed to bring Hunter back from the planet, Oh, am so handsome and rich, and all the girls flock to me, to earth where there are reality and consequences of your actions.” Flo said. Bri smiled at that.
“If Steve had handed the issue to the appropriate adults, he wouldn’t be locked out of freedom for five years. But, if he truly fought for me as you said, then, I have nothing against him and would like to thank him personally.”
“You only have tonight to see him. Tomorrow would be a busy, and gloomy day for him. I would take you to him after supper. I know where he lives.”
“Obviously,” Bri said, and then cleared her throat which sounded croaky.
“Brace to see all your school mate.”
Bri sighed. “You just kicked out the little excitement building up in me.”
“I'm sure you won't be easily noticed,” Flo said, browsing on her phone as Bri picked up the final jean pant. She turned out the pockets as she did her two other pants.
A complimentary card fell out of one of her pockets. Her forehead wrinkled as she bent over to pick it up. She stared at it briefly and attempted to shove it into her purse when Flo raised her head.
“What is that?” Flo asked.
“Just a complimentary card from a stranger.”
“A stranger?” Bri nodded before replying.
“Yes.”
“A man?” Flo asked, a tinge of excitement in her voice.
“A man.” Bri smiled, playing along. Whatever Flo thought the card was about was completely the opposite, but Bri wanted to string her along with the conversation.
“Tell me. Is he young? Let me see the card.”
“Yes.”
“What's his name? What did he say he wanted?”
“Brian. He wanted me.”
“Bri,” she said in a serious tone. “You turned down his offer for a date, didn't you? I know you did,” she said without waiting for Bri's reply.
“I did, and I had no choice.”
“What do you mean you had no choice?”
“I was taking care of mom. I couldn't possibly fit anything else into my already disorganized life.” Bri was getting emotional now.
Memories of being her mother’s caregiver flooded her mind. Unwilling to continue the little fun she was having, she slipped her hand into her purse, rummaged for the complimentary card, and then pulled it out. She handed it to Flo whose eyes bulged.
“You've got to be kidding me! Bri, this is an opportunity of a lifetime. My heart is racing right now.” She flipped the card around and then back. “You must act on this or…. She paused. “You must go for it.”
“I can't.”
“Why not?” Flo asked in disbelief.
“You see my freckled face? I'm not cut out as a model.”
Flo nodded her head.
“How you devalue yourself. The agent walked up to you didn't he?”
“Yes.”
“Did you have some makeup or mask on?”
“No.”
“Then no excuses because he saw those damn freckles on your face before handing you the card. If you don't want to do it, the heck I will. Only am five-foot-tall,” Flo said with a tinge of jealousy. “Here,” she tossed the card at Bri. We have some work to do. You have to grow up, throw out your mourning garments, and embrace a new life that's about to begin, if you let it.”
“I wanted to be prepared whole-heartedly,” Bri said, even though she knew her words would fall on deaf ears.
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