“Does that mean you have to cut back on gifts, too?”
“Not a chance, lad. My gift sack is multi-dimensional so it actually doesn’t have any weight to it in this dimension. The science behind it is all a bit complicated so I leave the technical stuff to my head elf, Bobo.”
Jerry laughed at the natural chemistry in the banter, then a new migraine spiked his skull. He winced, ground his fists into his temples and tried not to throw up in the hallway. Eventually he felt steadier and returned slowly to his office, one hand on the wall for balance.
ANA STOOD AT the window, the sun streaming in, bathing her in its warmth. She held one hand up to the light, examining herself for solidity, and was pleased with the results. Jerry’s forgotten iPhone vibrated on the coffee table and she turned to look at it but made no move to answer it.
JERRY’S HEADACHE SLAMMED into him without mercy. He made it back to his office eventually but now leaned hard on his desk, trying to catch his breath. He risked taking his hand off the desk and fumbled through a drawer where he stashed his pills. Before he could open the bottle, though, the agony crushed him and he collapsed to the floor, knocking over his in-basket with a crash on his way down.
STARTLED BY THE sound, Jerry’s assistant, Mika, called out from her office across the hall. “Jerry? Boss? You okay?” She wandered over to see what was up and when she stepped around the corner, she saw Jerry on the floor. “Someone call 9-1-1! Jerry’s collapsed!”
Chapter Ten
@TheTaoOfJerr: “If I should ever die . . . let this be my epitaph: The only proof he needed of the existence of God was music.”
~Kurt Vonnegut
MIKA, RED-EYED and emotionally frazzled, sat next to Jerry’s hospital bed, keeping vigil while Jerry slept. She tried to read a magazine from the nurse’s station but couldn’t concentrate. She was reading the same paragraph about ski vacations in Utah for the fifth time when Manny slipped into the room. “Hey, Boss.”
“How is he, girl?” He put a comforting hand on her shoulder and she reached up and squeezed it.
“Sedated. They took x-rays and have scheduled an MRI for next week, I guess. I’m not family, so they’re only giving me hints of what’s going on. Damned frustrating.”
“An MRI for a headache?” He picked up the chair next to the empty bed across the room and placed it next to Mika’s, careful not to let the feet scrape the floor.
“The doctor says the symptoms look familiar.”
“How long does he expect to keep Jerr here?”
“Overnight, at least. He’ll know more in a couple hours.”
“Damnation.”
“Yeah.”
ANA DRIFTED UP out of her book and glanced around the flat. The lights were off, so she thought that maybe Jerry had come home and gone to bed, although she really wish he’d said hello before he went to sleep. She shook off the remnants of the darkness that seemed to cling to her less and less when she exited the book’s other realm, and stood solidly on the floor. Jerry’s college sweatshirt lay folded on the table, so she slipped it on over her dress. She then tiptoed over to peek behind the privacy screen, but was stopped abruptly at the end of her ethereal leash, a yard short of the screen.
This is rather silly, only being able to travel a few yards. She stalked back to the coffee table and the tiny book with the weight of a world. Why do you do this to me? Why can I not simply—? And then it dawned on her. Very carefully, as if expecting to be shocked or burned, Ana reached over and picked up the book.
“O, moy dorogoy Gospod’!” Oh, my Dear Lord! She hugged the book tight to her chest and giggled. Mashka would mock me so, for being silly and not thinking of this sooner. To test the new development, Ana walked back to Jerry’s privacy screen. Unlike her first attempt, this time nothing stopped her. She did a little skip of joy and peeked behind the screen. The bed was empty.
She turned back to the main room. “Jerry?” Now that she knew he wasn’t asleep, she could risk calling out. She could see that the door to the toilet was open and the small area beyond was dark, but she knew that meant nothing conclusive. Afraid of what she might find, she walked through the kitchen to assure herself that Jerry wasn’t lying out of sight on the floor behind the counter. Relieved that he wasn’t there, she tapped lightly on the bathroom door. No answer came. “Jerry? I am about to invade your privacy. Please say something before I embarrass us both.” Her only answer was silence, so she reached in, flicked the switch to open the electric light, and poked her head around the corner. The tiny space was empty. Jerry was not at home, and the glowing numbers on the electric heating box in the kitchen said that it was nearly midnight. Ana made her way back to the sleeping area and sat on the floor, leaning back against the bed, keeping vigil.
“Jerry? Where are you?” She slid the book into the sweatshirt’s pouch, wrapped her arms around herself, and remained like that, rocking back and forth, lost and unsure what to do, until she was so exhausted that she was unwillingly drawn back into the book. The sweatshirt crumpled to the floor next to the bed, with the book still tucked away in the pouch.
JERRY REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS suddenly, as if a noise had awakened him. Alert as he was, though, he was confused. He recognized a hospital room when he saw one, but he had no memory of how he got there. He was also alone. Yes, of course he was alone. His family was back east and Ana was either a figment of his imagination or a ghost attached to some old book of poetry. The only light in his room came from the tall, narrow window flanking the half-closed door. No, he was wrong. There was a glow above and behind him, probably from some piece of health-monitoring equipment. As his eyes adjusted he saw, too, that there was light from a glow of dusk or dawn outside his window. His mind was fuzzy around the edges and his confusion wouldn’t go away.
“Ana? Shvibzik? What happened?”
At the sound of Jerry’s voice on the near silent ward, a nurse poked her head into the room. “Mr. Powell? Good morning. I’m Stephanie. How are you feeling?”
“Lost. Where am I?”
Stephanie came into the room and began checking the monitoring equipment and Jerry’s pulse. “Royal Jubilee Hospital. You collapsed at work and gave your co-workers quite a scare.” She laid the back of her hand against his forehead and seemed satisfied that he wasn’t burning up. “You’re looking much better now. Your colour has improved.”
“I collapsed? During my headache?”
“Well, that’s one of things we don’t know, and now that you’re awake, I’ll page the doctor. As soon as he arrives at the hospital he’ll come up and ask some questions. Hopefully he’ll even answer a few.”
“Gee, that’d be nice. What time is it?”
“Almost eight in the morning. Why don’t you lie back and relax and I’ll page Dr. Kelly? I’m sure you’re hungry, but we’ll wait to see what the doctor says before we bring in breakfast. He may need you to fast for some tests. Relax. If you need anything, the call button is here on your left.” She held up the call button strapped to the bed frame.
“Sure. Thanks.” He was suddenly exhausted, like someone had cut his strings. “Maybe I’ll just close my eyes for a bit, until the Doc gets in.”
“Good idea.” Before Stephanie had finished opening the curtains and shifting the two chairs back from the bed, Jerry was snoring.
EVENTUALLY JERRY DREAMED, and in his dream Ana pulled on his foot, trying to coax him off of the couch to go for another walk. But even as his dream gave way to reality, the gentle shaking of his foot continued. Crawling up from the dream, Jerry struggled to open his eyes only to find a short, round man somewhere over forty, standing beside the foot of the bed, shaking his foot.
“Hunh?”
“Jerry. Hello. I’m Doctor Izzy Kelly, the neuro-oncologist looking into your problem. I’m sorry to wake you, but Stephanie said you’ve already been awake and alert, and although I’m sure you’d like a bit more sleep, I didn’t want to put this chat off any longer.”
“Hi.”
/> “How do you feel?”
“‘Stupid’ is the first word that comes to mind.”
“No need to think like that, Jerry. What happened is quite common. What we need to know is how long have you been getting these headaches, how long do they last, is there any numbness associated with the pain, and how bad do they usually get?”
“That’s a lot of questions for first thing in the A.M., Doc. Um, how bad do they get?”
“Yes. Do you often lose consciousness, vomit, or experience temporary blindness?”
“And what if I answer ‘yes’ to any or all of these questions?” The line of questioning was starting to worry him. A neurologist wouldn’t be here if the headaches were caused by nitrates in his smoked meat or caffeine in his morning brew.
“Then it gives me an idea of which direction to take with your tests.”
“You have a hunch, don’t you?”
“There’s a shadow on your x-rays that I want a closer look at, so the next thing is an MRI.”
“A shadow? There’s something in my head?”
“That’s what the MRI will help determine. There are a variety of different possibilities and not all are as serious as you’re thinking, so let’s relax, and take it all one step at a time. Now, have you had any memory problems, such as trouble with names of people or places you should absolutely know?”
“I don’t mean to be a smartass, but not that I can remember.”
“Okay. How about confusion, unexplained exhaustion, loss of sense of smell?”
“Well, I’m new to town so I’m often lost or confused; it’s a new job and I just drove three thousand miles to get here, so that probably explains my exhaustion; and when my allergies act up I couldn’t smell a dirty diaper if it was on my dinner plate.”
The neurologist laughed. “I’ve never heard it put quite that way before, but I understand what you’re saying. How are your allergies now?”
“Since I arrived on the coast, they’ve been great. Still no problems with my sniffer, though. Are these all things I should be thinking about, aware of?”
“Simply put, yes. If you or anyone close to you notices changes in any of these areas, they are certainly indicators of a possibly more serious health issue. Also, facial paralysis, double vision, and unusual mood swings. These are all things I want you to be aware of, Jerry.”
“How long am I stuck here, Doc?”
“Noon, at the latest. I’ve got a prescription for you to try, and it should keep any future pain from becoming so debilitating.”
“Thank God. Puking and passing out were fine hobbies in college but I’d like something a bit more constructive to do in my spare time now.”
“Excellent, because I’m a firm believer that a patient’s attitude can affect the speed of their healing.”
“Then call Billy Graham, cuz I’m ready to heal, Brother Izzy.”
The doctor laughed warmly. “Yes, Jerry, I do believe you are.”
TRUE TO HIS word, Dr. Kelly had Jerry discharged by noon, with the MRI scheduled for the following Wednesday. Strapped into the passenger seat of Manny’s Land Cruiser, Jerry watched the orderly push the wheelchair he’d just vacated back through the hospital’s main doors. Although it was midday, cloud-cover darkened the day, and as Manny moved the vehicle out of the pick-up zone, a light drizzle started. His headache was gone, but Jerry was still exhausted, and he suspected part of it was the fear of what the neurologist might find.
“Don’t take it personally if I doze off, Manny. I really do appreciate all you’re doing. Tell Mika I’m sorry I scared her. Just a bad headache.”
“No worries, Jerr. We’re not far from the loft but you go ahead and get some shut eye. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
“Thanks.” He closed his eyes and between the soft intermittent flap of the windshield wipers and the gentle rocking of the Land Cruiser, Jerry was soon asleep, again.
JERRY WOKE UP just as Manny turned down Broad Street, approaching the loft. He shook the drowsiness off slowly, and was ready to face the world by the time Manny parked the SUV. The rain was pounding down now and Manny made him wait while he came around to the passenger side with a black umbrella huge enough to shelter both of them and a small Fiat as well.
“Carmella would have my hide if I let you get wet and catch pneumonia, lad.”
Jerry laughed, but stayed next to Manny as they strode through the rain. “I’m sure she would. Thanks.”
Manny let Jerry lead the way up the stairs to the loft, and Jerry was hard-pressed not to run up them two at a time. He wanted to make sure he opened the door to warn Ana they had company before the company could actually catch sight of her. He fumbled with the keys to stall their entrance, but Manny was standing back a yard, leaning the closed, wet umbrella up against the balustrade of the stairway. Jerry spoke loudly enough so that Ana might hear him and clue-in that he wasn’t alone.
“So, the staff must think I’m a real girly-boy, fainting on my real first day on the new job.”
“Not at all, Jerr. We all know about headaches, especially over the holidays. The tones I heard were all concern, not mockery—even the ones they didn’t know I could hear.” He smiled mischievously.
They entered the loft and Jerry was relieved to not be greeted by a flying royal ghost. He glanced up and around, trying to search for Ana without letting Manny know he was looking for anything. He checked the ceiling while taking off his coat and hanging it up, but no Ana.
“Thanks for the lift, Manny. Can I offer you a coffee?”
“Glass o’ water’d be just fine, Jerr. Get a bit dry in winter.” Manny hung up his own coat and took a couple steps into the loft.
“This is hardly winter—no snow up to your ass.” Jerry gestured to the sink and then the fridge. “You want tap or filtered?”
“Tap is fine, lad, and I can get it myself.”
“I can get water, Man—” Jerry started around the end of the island but Manny waved him off.
“I’m sure you can, but you aren’t bloody going to. Relax. Doctor’s orders.”
“Everyone keeps telling me to ‘relax’. Really, the headache is gone. I feel great.”
“That’s nice. Now sit down before I knock you down, mate.”
Jerry chuckled, giving up the fight. “Yessir, Boss. I’ll sit my ass down. Is here okay, Boss?” He planted himself on the couch.
“Bloody kids. Do you want one, too?”
“Sure. I’m good with anything caffeine-free, or so says the doc. No ice, though, thanks.”
Manny fetched two glasses from the cupboard, let the cold tap water run for a minute and then filled the two glasses. He brought them over to the sitting area and handed Jerry one of them before lowering himself into a chair.
“Thanks.” Jerry took a distracted sip then put the glass down on a coaster. The book wasn’t where he’d left it on the coffee table. He peeked under the magazines on the table top and then checked under the table itself. When he still had no luck, he slipped off the couch and looked underneath.
“Whatcha looking for, Jerr?”
“A book I was reading this morning.” Not finding it under the couch, he sat back up, looking around, trying to think where it might be.
“I didn’t see any books in the kitchen, Jerr, but I’ll go take another look.” Manny slowly levered his lanky frame up from the chair and looked.
Jerry shook his head, confused. “I was sure it was sitting right here on the table when I left for work yesterday.”
“Not in the kitchen, either. Guess you’ll have to read one of those magazines instead.” He returned to the chair. “At least you don’t live with someone like my Carmella, who puts my crap away before it even hits the coffee table. Your book’ll show up, lad. It’s probably sitting next to the loo.”
“Yeah, maybe.” But not possible, Jerry thought. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t take Ana into the bathroom with him, but he got up to check anyway, just in case.
&nbs
p; Manny looked under the magazines, too. “Get back—what are you doing?! It’s only a bloody book, mate.”
Jerry came out of the bathroom, shaking his head. “It’s not really my book. Sort of a loaner.”
“Was it in there?”
“No.”
“Maybe you took it to work . . . and don’t even think about going there to look, cuz I’m on my way there and I’ll check your office for you myself. Like I said—it’ll pop up.”
Jerry tried to appear relaxed but was starting to worry. “Yeah, you’re right. Look, I appreciate you picking me up and bringing me home, Manny. I think I should relax. Maybe even have a nap.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then. Nap, sleep, kick back and watch porn—whatever you do to wind down. I’ll see you after your days off.” He got back out of the chair and retrieved his coat.
“Definitely, Manny. Does porn help you relax?”
“I’m married to an amazing woman, Jerr—I have no need for the likes of pornography.” His expression was neutral but Jerry saw a twinkle in his eyes. He opened the door and stepped into the hall, picking up the still dripping umbrella. “Now rest. I’ll update everyone at work so they don’t keep calling to see how you’re doing.”
“Thanks. Çiao, Manny.” He stood in the doorway and watched as the tall Aussie descended the stairs and exited out into the downpour, popping the umbrella up before stepping onto the sidewalk. As soon as his boss was out of sight, Jerry ducked back into the apartment and locked the door. “Shit, shit, shit!”
Chapter Eleven
@TheTaoOfJerr: “Music produces a kind of pleasure which human nature cannot do without.”
~Confucius
JERRY RAMPED HIS search up a couple of notches. He moved furniture, yanked off the seat cushions, stripped the bed, and emptied half-filled book shelves in a fruitless effort to find Ana. After an hour, exhausted, he grabbed his jacket and headed out into the rain. He had no idea how she could have left the loft, but he would search until he found her. For all he knew, Ana went for a walk and couldn’t find her way back. He headed straight for the one area he knew Ana knew—the Inner Harbour.
Waking Anastasia Page 10