Becca

by Krystek, Dean

  “No. Crap, I lost count.”

  “Lost count of what?”

  “The holes in the ceiling tiles. I was trying to see how many one of them had.”

  “I’m going to start the incision now. Please let me know if you become uncomfortable.”

  “Meaning if I feel excruciating pain because the medicine has worn off?”

  “I don’t think there’s a chance of that, but let me know if you feel nauseous, or light-headed.”

  “Are you going to keep cutting if you find something bad?”

  “What do you feel?”

  “Nothing. You didn’t answer my question.”

  “No, I won’t keep cutting. I’ve made the incision—retractor. Wipe, please, nurse. Now, Rebecca I’m making another incision.”

  “You can stop with the play by play. My brain is telling me I should be screaming in pain, but I don’t feel anything.”

  “Okay,” Dr. London smiled. “No more commentary.”

  Becca said after a minute or two, “I saw this movie about World War Two and this Army pilot was having his leg cut off by a doctor and there was an old Chinese guy helping the doctor. And the Army guy starts getting panicky because he can feel his toes and his other leg, and he starts yelling hurry doc hurry, and the old Chinese guy ends up holding him down because he knows the stuff is going to wear off before the doctor finishes.”

  “Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo,” Dr. London said.

  “What?”

  “The movie. With Van Johnson and Spencer Tracy.”

  “Yeah, Van Johnson. He was the guy getting his leg hacked off. They didn’t have any more painkillers to give him. So he was going bananas.”

  “Well, if that should happen here, Rebecca, I think Nurse Chambers will take the place of the old Chinese guy.”

  Becca laughed. “Hey, you’re real comedian. Wouldn’t it be easier just to give me more of what you just gave me?”

  “You won’t need more. This will only take a few more minutes. I’m going to be poking and prodding so let me know if you begin to feel your toes or your other leg. But I would appreciate you not asking me questions until I’ve finished okay?”

  “Okay, doc. Sorry for talking so much. I can’t help it. I love talking and this medicine you gave me has loosened my tongue.” She chuckled. “I wish Josh was here,” she said seriously. “Josh is my boyfriend. Well you know what? He’s not really my boyfriend. I mean I have a boyfriend, but he’s gay, so he’s not like really my boyfriend either—well he was until he decided to go to UCLA where maybe he can find a nice gay guy to hang around with. So I won’t even have him as a boyfriend anymore. I want Josh to be my boyfriend, but we’re not really dating or anything, although we’ve been out a couple of times but they weren’t dates like you would think a date is. We’re not a couple but we look adorable together. Weird, huh? I love him, doctor. I mean, Josh. I love Josh.” She giggled. “His name is Josh, but that’s not his real name because he doesn’t like his real name, which is Bertram. What a name, right? Bertram! But he likes Josh and so I call him that. And he likes Alexander, which I’ve called him a couple of times because I knew an Alexander a couple of years ago, and he…well I still miss him. Anyway, I think Josh is a better name than Bertram, but really, I wouldn’t care if his name was Buford I’d still love him. You wanna know something weird? He doesn’t know I love him. I’ve told him a couple of times that I love him, but I don’t think he took me seriously or he didn’t hear me. Or maybe he did hear me, but he won’t tell me he heard me because maybe he doesn’t love me—or maybe he doesn’t want to love me. I don’t know. It’s very complicated because he’s half black and half white and all. He’s coming to visit me this evening. I think…I think I’ll tell him I love him.” She felt tears form in her eyes. “I actually adore him. Have you ever adored somebody, doctor? It’s a great feeling. But he’s going into the Army. Going to war probably. And I don’t want anything to happen to him because if something does I’ll go crazy. I’m crazy now just thinking about him going away.”

  “Rebecca,” Dr. London said, “can you relax a little please, I’m almost done here. Nurse, sponge.”

  “I thought her name was Nurse Chambers. Hahaha. I want to relax, but I’m scared. I lied. I’m scared I’m going to be like—what’s his name, the van guy?—in that movie Thirty Days Over Japan or whatever it was. Only it’s going to be me who forgets I don’t have a leg and I’ll stand up out of my wheelchair and fall flat on my face when Josh comes into my hospital room.”

  “Calm down, Rebecca, please.”

  “I’m trying to, but I’ve got that thing growing in my leg and I want it out. Take it out, Doctor London. Please take it out.”

  “I’m almost finished.”

  “Hurry doc, hurry. I think I can wiggle my toes. Doc, I think I can feel my other leg—hurry doc, hurry!”

  “Rebecca, can you feel this?”

  “Feel what?”

  “What I’m doing?”

  “No.”

  “Then you’re okay.”

  “I know. I just remembered what John Vanson said in the movie.”

  “Please don’t quote anymore movie dialogue until I’m done,” Dr. London said with a smile.

  “Oh my God, I just remembered another one. ‘Where’s the rest of me?’ That was what’s his name who said that—in the movie he had his legs cut off or something. I don’t want to lose my leg, doc. I don’t want Josh to see me without a leg.”

  III

  Bert found a parking spot not far from the hospital. He walked into the lobby and paused, thinking perhaps that he would see Mr. Smith or Greg. He saw no one and then went to the reception desk. Both of the visitor cards were in the slot for her room. She was alone.

  “Miss Rebecca Smith,” Bert said to the lady at the desk. He received a card and took the elevator to the seventh floor.

  He got off the elevator and again looked around for her father or Greg, or her girlfriends, but saw no one. He cursed himself for being paranoid, and went straight to her room. The bed closest to the door was unkempt, as if the person had just left it. Becca sat looking out the window next to her bed, and when she heard him come in she turned to him and her face brightened with a smile.

  “Hey you,” she said, her voice sounded as excited as she looked.

  “Hi,” Bert said and went to her bedside.

  “Look,” Becca said and tossed back the light blanket that had covered her. She wiggled her feet. “Still have both legs.”

  “That’s good news,” he said, smiling, taking his eyes from her wonderful legs to her smiling face.

  “Not so good news, Josh,” Becca said, losing her smile now.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Dr. London—he didn’t say anything, but I could see it on his face.”

  “What did you see on his face?”

  She sighed. “It’s cancer.”

  “Come on now wait until the doctor says it is.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait. I won’t even think about it. I’ll think of school and the holidays, and I’ll say good bye to Greg when he goes out to California to find love and I’ll say good bye to you when you go off to war.”

  “Who says I’m going off to war?”

  “Josh, hmmm—let’s see. You’ve been drafted, there’s a war going on,—gee, I think I can add that up.”

  “You can’t be any more sure of that than you are of that thing being cancer.” He pointed at her leg.

  “What do you think, Josh? What’s your gut tell you?”

  “It’s not cancer.”

  “Not what you think about my leg, what do you think about you going off to war. Tell me. Tell me what your gut says. My gut says I’ve got cancer and that you’re going off to war.”

  “Ditto.”

  “So you do think it’s cancer!”

  “What? No. I’m thinking I’m going off to war.”

  “I’m prepared for the worse too.”

  Bert looked out of the window,
which faced Pittsburgh’s skyline across the river. The sun was setting, putting a golden glow on the Ohio River where it formed at the city’s point.

  “So I asked a million questions and Dr. London can’t answer any of them until he knows for sure what I have.” Becca pulled up her hospital gown to her abdomen to reveal the bandage on her thigh. “He said he to make a bigger incision than he expected, so it’s a pretty good-sized hole I got there. He took out something big I suppose—I couldn’t see what the hell he was doing. I don’t feel a thing now because he’s given me some kind of painkiller that I’m really enjoying. But it’s making me talk my head off.” She chuckled. “That’s why my roommate left. Her name’s Jean and she’s here for observation—whatever that means. I guess it means that they don’t know what the hell’s wrong with her so they’re going to watch her until they figure out if something’s wrong with her or not. But how long will they keep her here for observation, Josh?”

  “I don’t know.” He smiled. Becca had tied her strawberry blonde back in a ponytail. He noticed she had put on lipstick and maybe a touch of eye makeup.

  “So, anyway. I’m going home tomorrow unless I get an infection or something and then wouldn’t that be a kick? I get an infection in my leg from the biopsy and it gets gangrene, and they have to cut it off. That’s what happened to Van Johnson, you know.”

  “The actor? He lost a leg?”

  She nodded. “No, silly. He was in a movie and he played a guy who crashed his plane and a doctor had to cut off his leg, and while the doc was doing it, the anesthesia was wearing off and he started panicking.”

  “Oh, really?” He was almost laughing now. She lay in the bed, her legs crossed, and her feet with their painted toenails waved back and forth, as she talked, sometimes emphasizing one word, or another.

  “Bertram Leslie Martin Junior, you’re laughing at me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I feel drunk now. I’m high. Have you ever been high, Josh? Ever done that? Smoked some weed, maybe dropped some acid so you can see music, and hear colors?”

  “No.”

  “Me neither. But this is a nice feeling. The doctor said I was going to have pain and that he didn’t want me to be uncomfortable so he said I could have this shot and maybe another later on, once this one wore off and I started hurting. Hey, maybe if you’re here when the nurse gives me my next shot I’ll see if she can save some of the stuff for you.”

  “Oh, thanks, Becca, but I’m driving.”

  She chuckled and realized her gown had come dangerously close to revealing much more than her thigh. “Well, there you go,” she said to him, “you just got an eyeful. My leg, all the way up to my snatch.” She giggled and covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be, I’m not.”

  “Of course not. You’re a guy. And you would have let me sit here all evening like that, wide open for all the world to see and for you to feast your eyes on.”

  “Perish the thought.”

  “No?” She giggled and rolled up the other side of her gown, revealing as much of her left leg as her right. She was careful push down the gown between her legs in an act of modesty. “Feast,” she said.

  “It’s more like a snack,” Bert said, looking at her legs and then at her eyes. They had been holding him captive and he had not known it.

  Becca giggled again. “What would someone say right now if they walked in? Hmm? You staring at my twa—my womanhood the way you are.”

  “You’re womanhood? I thought I was staring at your legs.”

  “Bertram Leslie Martin Junior. You are a liar. You were sneaking a look at my snatch.” She started laughing. “Oh, my God. What am I saying?”

  “It’s the medicine.”

  “Greg’s never seen it.”

  “Seen what?”

  “What you say you’re not staring at, but I know you are.” She laughed and nodded emphatically; then she shook her head. “Yes, he’s never seen it.”

  “Well why would he want to?”

  “Oh, so you don’t think it’s worth a look?” She put her hands on her hips in a sign of indignation.

  “No, that’s not what I meant. I meant he’s not interested in your womanhood.”

  “Oh, yes. You’re right. He’s not.” She patted the bed near her left foot. “Sit.”

  He sat and she wriggled the toes of her left foot against his buttock. He smiled at her. She was smiling, her eyes glazed, her lips moist. “You are flying,” he said.

  Becca lowered her voice conspiratorially, “You wanna see it?”

  “See what?”

  She pointed between her legs. Bert’s face flushed. Becca had a devilish smile, which made his flush deepen when Becca pointed her finger at him and laughed.

  “Hahaha. You should see your face, Bertram.”

  He laughed now. “You are really crazy.”

  “Yeah, crazy in love. Crazy in love.” She looked toward the window and then she sighed deeply. “I’m embarrassing myself aren’t I?”

  “You can’t help it.”

  She looked at him. “Do you want to know who Alex is?” Before Bert could answer, she went on. “He was my first love.” The smile left her face and she held up two fingers in a V. “Peace.” She let her hand drop to the bed. “I think I’ll always love him even if I love somebody else, because—oh, there’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

  “Ah a woman of with secrets.”

  “No, they’re not secrets. I just don’t talk about stuff. Do you have secrets?”

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “Everybody has secrets.”

  “I don’t have secrets about anything I’ve done.”

  They fell silent, both looking out the window.

  Becca yawned. “Oh my God, I’m so tired all of the sudden.” She looked at Bert. “I was going to tell you something, and I’ll be damned if I can remember what it was.” She shrugged and cleared some hair from her eyes. “So what did the recruiter say?”

  “He wanted me to leave next week.”

  “Next week? No!”

  “That’s what I said.”

  Becca rested her foot against his side. “Let’s you and me run away, Josh. Canada. Let’s go to Canada.” On each word, she prodded him with her toes.

  “It’s too cold.”

  “I’ll keep you warm.”

  “I’ll be put in jail when I come back to this country.”

  “Don’t come back.”

  “My mother’s here.”

  “We’ll move her to Canada.’

  “Your family’s here.”

  “We’ll move your mother to Canada.” She rubbed him with her foot and he grabbed and yanked her big toe. “Watch out,” she said, “you might pull my leg off.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  She sighed and let him rub her foot. “It’s getting close, isn’t it?”

  “What is?”

  “The day you run off and join the Army and see the world.”

  “That’s the Navy.”

  “You’re going into the Navy?”

  “No, that’s a slogan for the Navy.”

  “What’s a slogan for the Army?”

  “I don’t know if it has one.”

  “Let’s do something.”

  “What could we do?”

  “Ever been to Niagara Falls?”

  “No.”

  “Wanna go?”

  “Isn’t that where a lot people go on their honeymoon or something?”

  “Yeah, you wanna get married?”

  He let go of her foot. “Becca, don’t joke.”

  “Hey, getting married is not a joke. Oh you think it’s a joke—us getting married? Well, just to let you know, mister, there’s an orderly in this hospital that got married and he’s not going to get drafted.”

  “He said that?”

  “Yes. So you and I need to get married in like what—two w
eeks?”

  Bert chuckled. “You kill me.”

  “So, let’s do it.” She took his hand and put it back on her foot.

  He started massaging her foot. “Do what?”

  “Get married.”

  He looked down as his fingers plied the satiny smoothness of her instep. It was her right foot. He wondered how long she would have it. He shuddered. “Getting married and not going to Vietnam. That’s not such a bad idea.”

  “Then you’d marry me”

  “I didn’t say that. I said marriage isn’t such a bad idea. I didn’t say marrying you wasn’t a bad idea.

  “Oh, another insult.” She snatched her foot away. You were joking I hope.”

  “Yes, I was joking.”

  She squirmed her left foot under the palm of his hand. “Then please continue.”

  After a couple of minutes, a voice announced that visiting hours were over in ten minutes

  “Stay,” Becca said. “Hide under the bed.”

  “Why?”

  “So we can talk. Besides, you give great foot rubs.”

  “We’ll bother your roommate.”

  “We’ll whisper.”

  A woman, wearing a hospital gown entered the room. “Oh, hello,” she said to Bert.

  “Hi,” Bert returned.

  Becca slipped her foot from Bert’s hand and turned on the bed to let her feet dangle. “Somewhere down there is a pair of slippers, Bert. Could you put them on me please?”

  Bert found the fuzzy rabbit slippers and slipped them on her feet. He steadied Becca as she stood up. She grabbed the back of her gown.

  “Oh, crap. Robe, please,” Becca said.

  Bert handed her the one that lay on a chair next to the bed.

  “Let’s go,” she said.

  “Go where?”

  “I’m walking you to the elevator. Don’t give me any lip.”

  He walked along beside her, Becca’s arm through his, her body close to his. Why did she suddenly feel so frail?

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “That’s okay, Becca.”

  She studied him a moment. “Give me a couple of days. Then we’ll, um, we’ll do something?”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  Becca beckoned him to lean closer. She kissed his cheek and then rubbed the spot with the back of her hand. “There,” she said, “rubbing it in so it stays. See you later, Josh.”