by Aziz, M.
The nurse returned with a saline stand and some tubes. She tore open an alcohol swab and rubbed it on Tomás’s hand, following it with a butterfly needle connected to the drip. She then held his turned hand as three tubes filled in quick succession through another needle, punctuated by a cotton wool ball.
‘Straight to the lab now.’ the nurse hurried off.
Marilyn and her in-laws looked at other patients around them. Further down a policeman stood by an unseen person who was moaning and laughing.
‘It still don’t feel good, but I can’t stop... Turn it off!’ the patient cackled.
Two girls sat just in front of their own curtain. One sported a bruised leg that looked as if a giant had stubbed cigars out on it.
Marilyn noticed a few drops of dried blood in Tomás’s ear. Alberto stood and turned a corner to a drinks machine. After a can vended he turned around and forcibly tugged at the ring-pull. The effort to achieve the metallic rip made him breathe deep. He let the bubbles of the first sip burst on his tongue before walking back.
‘Don’t let me take all this.’ he offered the can to Marilyn.
She waved her hand at it.
Estela huffed as doctors passed. The colon on the LCD clock above seemed to have blinked a million times at her. Alberto soon lightly snored in his chair.
A doctor walked back. The extremely tall pale figure had bags under his eyes. He wore a tweed jacket with black leather elbow patches.
‘Hi, I’m Dr Klimek. Sorry, a little too many drinkers admitted tonight.’ he looked at Marilyn and shook her limp hand. ‘I’m actually a colleague of Professor Barber’s. I rushed as soon as I heard.’
Shutting the curtain, he moved towards Tomás’s head and squinted.
‘There’s nothing in his blood to worry us immediately and he should wake up after a fair sleep, but we can’t let you take him home in this way now. Because of this episode, we can’t be sure...’ he yawned. ‘Sorry... We can’t be sure what’s around the corner, or when. So, I think when he wakes there is no better opportunity to go ahead with Barber’s treatment. Stage one. Stalling won’t give us any guarantees.’
Estela scrunched her face. Alberto put his arm around her. Dr Klimek stared at Marilyn.
‘You understand, Mrs Gabino,’ he whispered, ‘that your husband is not going to expire. Only his body is.’
Marilyn nodded. Her eyes were webbed red.
‘We’re taking him up to a private room.’ he added.
Alberto nodded.
‘I’ll see you again later. Once he’s settled in his room do get some rest. He couldn’t be in better hands.’ Dr Klimek stretched out his long, slender fingers. Alberto shook them and felt boyish in its return grip. Dr Klimek then parted the curtain and disappeared.
Marilyn and her in-laws looked at each other, poised to say words that wouldn’t form.
A pair of orderlies arrived and loosened Tomás’s wheels. One went behind the headrest, the other at his feet and started moving the bed.
Heavy blue doors with circular windows led to a white corridor. With his family behind, Tomás rolled down the end to a staff lift. An orderly smacked the call button. Marilyn looked behind her and saw a woman happily talking at a phone shielded by what resembled a levitating, oversized motorbike helmet. At the sound of the steel doors parting Marilyn turned and followed the others in. Everyone looked everywhere but at each other. The slow move upward and settling made Estela grab a rail. The doors opened.
After Tomás was wheeled out Marilyn looked around the corridor. The ceiling was dirty grey with bare light bulbs, the floor was covered with gripped green underlay, and the walls had areas test-painted beige. A steel door marked the end. Beside it was a modern-looking lock with a red display.
‘Don’t feel uneasy,’ said the orderly at Tomás’s feet, ‘the room he’s gonna be in ain’t crap like this entrance.’
The orderlies stopped at a light-brown wooden door in the middle and pushed it open. The room invited them with its warm yellow walls and green marble linoleum. Tomás’s family looked around, starting in different directions. It had a separate toilet and bathroom, a small holographic television, four soft blue chairs, wooden drawers, a bed-hovering table, a white analogue clock and a light bar.
Marilyn and Alberto stretched out their arms to move Tomás when the orderlies did so in one swoop. They nodded at the family as they left.
Tomás sported a neutral expression. Marilyn noticed his chest rising had returned to normal. Alberto clicked his fingers in the TV’s direction to turn it on, quickly minimising the volume with a two hand downward stroke in the air.
‘How you want watch television?’
‘He is going to be okay, okay?’ he flipped through the channels with the remote and stopped at a scene of conflict. Despite the low volume the visual tension of the characters captured his eyes.
Marilyn looked at the screen and Tomás alternately.
Someone knocked.
Prof Barber walked in. He wore shiny black shoes and an undoubtedly designer black suit.
‘I certainly didn’t expect to see you this soon. But the timing isn’t awkward. We’re due to receive the donor body in the next few days, so tomorrow we won’t waste any time.’
‘Tell me, when my Tomás going heaven? My Tomás like is. Please!’
Prof Barber cleared his throat. ‘Not immediately, but I wouldn’t give him more than a fortnight, at a liberal estimate.’
‘Did this all speed up because he heard live music last night?’ Marilyn bit her lip.
‘I would doubt it. High sound levels may mess with his sense of balance, but that’s it.’
‘But he is going to have no problem in the new form, isn’t he?’ asked Alberto.
‘We don’t hold a negative thought in our heads.’ he smiled. ‘One of you can stay here with Tomás, if you like? But not all of you. We can get a mattress.’
‘It’s best if I stay.’ replied Marilyn.
Estela pursed her mouth.
‘Good. I’ll get someone on it. Right. Well, that’s it.’ his eyes delivered a question mark.
‘You’re a great help, doctor.’ said Alberto.
‘Not a problem. As you’re not staying here you’ll really have to be out by nine.’ he walked out.
‘You very sure manage here? I stay instead? Maybe better with mother?’
‘I just can’t leave his side.’
‘Fine.’ she said sharply.
‘We should head out now, Estela.’ said Alberto. ‘Us standing here won’t add to his treatment. Old birds like us are better off in the nest.’ he touched her shoulder.
‘How I relax? I no hurry to go!’
‘Marilyn will ring when he wakes, won’t you?’
‘My mobile’s fully charged.’
Alberto gripped Estela’s shoulder and pulled her back.
‘You don’t drain your health too, Marilyn. You must be a mirror to him.’
Estela glanced at Tomás as Alberto led her out.
Marilyn walked up and down beside Tomás, her steps made tiny thuds. She walked up to the jade-blinded windows where through the gaps and blur of colour one could see a line of dirty grey communal bins. She flinched when one of the previous orderlies brought in a folding check mattress and thin white blanket.
‘‘s a dodgy spring on one side, can’t say I didn’ warn ya.’ the orderly carefully placed them and walked backwards.
Marilyn nodded then returned to Tomás.
‘Please don’t drift away so fast.’ she whispered. ‘I’m in no hurry to see you in new skin.’ she lifted a chair and sat beside him. Holding his hand she traced the veins on his wrist with her free thumb. Her chin then drifted onto it where she closed her eyes and sobbed.
‘Marilyn.’ patted Alberto. ‘Sandwich. Cheese, pickle. I also got you some stuff that you might want.’
She rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock. The small hand was three digits further.
‘Oh, that’s good.’ s
he took the bags.
Estela stared at her.
‘I will bring a coke from the machine.’ he walked off.
‘He not get up, then?’ Estela’s voice rang like breaking glass.
‘Well, I mean, I doubt it... Forgive me.’ her shoulders dropped. ‘Getting up like that to here in the morning just took it out of me.’
‘I think I better stay when get dark.’
Alberto returned with a water-speckled can and handed it to Marilyn.
‘Do not let that food go untouched now. You cannot let your energy go down, as you’re staying here.’
Estela’s eyes wanted to stab him. He sat on a chair near the TV and momentarily shut his eyes.
‘Nothing good on? Does not seem as if you have even touched the remote.’ he picked it up.
Estela walked to Tomás’s side and stroked his hair.
Marilyn put her hand in a bag and opened the sandwich container. Estela watched her take a bite as a cat does a mouse. Marilyn then went red and chewed slowly.
Alberto pressed program up and stopped at the news. Despite the low volume he worked out what scenes of dirty hospital floors and graphics of a virus signified. He turned it off.
There was a knock. Dr Klimek peered before walking in.
‘Hasn’t he made a move yet?’
‘At least, my law daughter not notice if did.’
‘Right...’ he walked up to Tomás and placed two fingers on his wrist. It was moist. He looked at Marilyn. ‘He doesn’t appear to be suffering. If he doesn’t move his eyelids by tonight we’ll have to bring out a needle to get him out of this slumber. The event must’ve taken considerable toll on him.’
‘Drugs all the time. Okay.’ sighed Alberto.
‘I’m sure Marilyn’s shadow over him will keep his skin unpierced.’ smiled Dr Klimek.
Marilyn and Estela repelled stares.
‘We’ve assigned him a nurse. He’ll be coming in a few hours and will check him periodically. I better go as I’ve a bunch of students to bore. You won’t see me again today, but I’ll be back tomorrow with Dr Goldberg.’ he sped out.
‘Marilyn,’ said Alberto, ‘I think your lungs want out of the room for a little bit. We will keep a look on him.’
Estela nodded.
‘Thanks.’ she left her unopened drink and put her coat on.
‘Take as long as want.’ said Estela. ‘As long’.
Marilyn walked to the lift and pressed call. The display above her counted up the floors. The doors smoothly slid apart and she stepped in. Catching her reflection in the back mirror she brushed her hand over her hair then slouched.
The doors soon opened again and she turned into the reception foyer. All the receptionists had phones pressed to their ears and most of the waiting area seats were vacated. She walked up to the revolving glass door and stepped into an open quadrant.
Soon the wind beat at her face. To her left was a grey-haired woman in pink and white pyjamas, matching dressing gown and light-blue slippers. Her severely wrinkled mouth devoured crisps. The woman looked at her then back across the road. To Marilyn’s right was an unoccupied pebble-shaped bench. She sat on it and pulled out her mobile. Her heart beat fast in sync with screen gestures.
‘Hi Marilyn. How’s things?’ Haroon had picked up instantly.
‘Could be much better. He’s in a ward.’
‘Wh... What happened? He was grand last night! He was singing along and wasn’t unlike himself on the way back.’
Marilyn sighed. ‘Time isn’t on his side, Haroon. Last grains of sand in the hourglass. As he is anyway. A fortnight or days, I don’t know. If you want to see him phone me before you come and I’ll meet you out in the foyer. You know the hospital... Hello?’
‘Yeah, yeah. I’m not gone. Um. I can’t really make it now. I actually think it would be better if... What I mean is, I don’t think I...’ his voice broke. ‘I saw him okay and I want to see him okay. In whatever form. You know what I mean?’
‘Yeah, I do.’ she put her free thumb and index finger to her forehead.
‘He’s not going to disappear. I don’t want to hear any more goodbyes. He knows how I feel.’
Marilyn nodded to herself. ‘I just thought I’d keep you in the loop. They’re going to do the first thing tomorrow.’
‘Brilliant. I can’t wait to share crap jokes with him again.’ he dry-laughed. ‘I’m sure nothing will muck up. He’s all good at the moment, though, isn’t he?’
‘He’s as good as can be. You don’t let yourself fall apart, okay? I’ll message you.’
‘You’re a gem.’
The call clicked off.
‘Damn windy, innit?’ said the crisps woman. ‘Hate it any uvver way, though!’ she scrunched her empty packet.
Marilyn gave a salesperson’s smile then looked out over the entrance steps at people walking by. The crisps woman pulled out a chocolate bar from her pocket and tore it open. Noticing Marilyn’s attention she smiled.
‘Bloody windy, innit?’ said the woman again. ‘‘ey, where did you spring from? You weren’t ‘ere a minute ago, I think.’ her jaw quivered.
Marilyn returned a subdued smile, rubbed her arms and walked back inside.
Turning right into a long corridor she saw 3D models of chemical structures line the path. Every few yards she walked over glass panels with suspended coloured negative images of microbes. People queued to collect white paper bags at post office-style counters. Right at the end were doors with small metal graphics of a man, woman and wheel-chaired person. She pushed open the women’s one and locked it. The seat had indeterminable brown specks so she decided to hover over it. After relieving herself she washed her hands then covered her face with her palms.
A few minutes later the door handle went down then up. Marilyn checked her reflection in the mirror and rubbed at greyed parts of her face. Upon exiting she saw three women waiting in line. She walked briskly to the start of the corridor to the internal newsagent. Her hands randomly picked up a half broadsheet plus two oat bars from the display at payment. Continuing to the lifts the doors to one opened as she approached.
Back on the floor she paused before Tomás’s room. She heard her in-laws talking and slowly prised the door open.
Estela noticed her immediately.
‘He wake up bit soon as left!’
Alberto bowed his head. ‘He looked at us, licked his lips, moved his head a little then went back to sleep. Nothing special.’
‘But he good!’
‘Not properly yet.’ replied Alberto.
Estela’s eyes threatened to cut through him.
‘It shame you no see. Maybe he did once before while you dreaming washing hair?’
‘Estela!’ barked Alberto.
‘Yeah, maybe he did and I was.’
Estela’s red face was set to explode.
Alberto shook his head. ‘Marilyn, I think me and her better not stay now. We will come back refreshed.’
‘I not moving!’
‘If you do not leave this room, my son will feel like hell when he opens his eyes!’
‘Witch! If my son not breathe, you prove it. I will spill your blood!’ she gritted her teeth.
Marilyn turned red. Alberto grabbed Estela’s bag from the floor and pulled her arm.
‘Do not mind her, dear. When she cools her head down she will stop this. You know that.’
Marilyn nodded.
‘Do not be afraid to come home any time you feel.’ he added. ‘He is not passing away here.’
Estela shrugged off Alberto’s grip. She looked at Marilyn with wide quivering eyes before storming out. Alberto trailed behind. The sound of her echoed, raised voice and shoes rapping hard and fast felt like scissors snapping at Marilyn’s face.
She walked up to Tomás and stroked his forehead. His brows arched and settled. Sitting down, she put the newspaper on her lap and massaged its creases.
Hours passed as Marilyn repeatedly pressed the remote control, yawnin
g periodically at fragments of programmes. The newspaper was scrunched in a chair and both oat bar wrappers were binned.
A short East Asian nurse barged in. He pulled a trolley and held a tablet computer.
‘Mr Gabino, right?’ he asked in a high American accent.
Marilyn blinked.
‘How’s he doing?’ he continued.
‘He looks at peace.’
‘That’s promising. I’m just gonna record his temp and BP.’ he raised Tomás’s arm and wrapped a Velcro cuff around it. The cuff inflated tightly before a beep sounded. The nurse waited a few moments before waving a pocket device over the displayed value. He then picked up an ear thermometer from the trolley and approached the right of Tomás’s head.
‘No. Maybe not that one.’ said Marilyn.
‘Whatever you say.’ he walked around to her side and placed the tip in Tomás’s cleaner ear. The device beeped and he pulled away.
‘Temperature’s nothing to worry about. Blood pressure is something we need to watch. But we’d expect that with what happened. Once all the saline empties, though, I think we can breathe easy.’
‘Right.’
‘Mmm.’ mumbled Tomás. His nostrils flared.
‘That’s not a bad sign!’ said the nurse.
‘Tomás. It’s me, Marilyn!’
‘Mmm.’ he adjusted his head.
‘He’ll open his eyes soon enough, don’t fret.’ the nurse nodded and wheeled the equipment out.
Marilyn got up and kissed Tomás’s forehead. He remained still.
After a while she rubbed her back and unfolded the portable mattress. The springs squeaked as she tried to settle the ends quietly. Slowly turning the bed diagonally to his feet she placed the flat pillow so that she would be facing them. Upon clapping off the TV she laid herself down and buried her face in the limited softness. The spring the orderly mentioned flexed and her eyes widened as she readjusted. The metronomic contractions of Tomás’s breathing soon made her eyes flutter shut.
Next morning in the early hours Tomás opened his eyes. He raised his head and looked at Marilyn. Smiling, he settled back. His eyes traced the half-full saline bag to his butterfly needle before he wriggled his toes and faded back to sleep.