by Rachael Wade
But Mira is.
My eyes focus on her as they adjust to the bright white. Her brown irises are wide and filled with concern. Mascara streaks her face, cascading down her cheeks as I register the feel of her hand on mine. “Grant?” Her voice is like rich caramel. “Can you hear me?”
I attempt to nod, but it hurts like a bitch so I try to speak instead. “Yes.”
“Are you okay?”
Even in my immobile state, I easily relay my signature bland expression, passing it to her with the utmost finesse.
“I know,” she shakes her head, a sad grin peeking through, “stupid question.”
“Very.”
“What I mean is, I need you to be okay. Should I get the nurse?”
“No.” I swallow. My throat is dry. I feel as if I could drink ten gallons of water. I sigh heavily, wincing from the pain in my ribcage. “I hate hospitals.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“You fought with me in the ambulance the whole way here.”
“I did?” My tired, achy mind attempts to piece together all that brought me here. Images of my run down Denny and the cab ride come back, slowly but surely allowing me to relive the awful scene. “How did you find me?”
“You told the cops to call me at the hotel. They asked you for a name, a contact, while you were still somewhat coherent.”
“And I asked for you?”
“Yeah. You asked for me.” She squeezes my hand, and I realize the feeling is coming back. The paralyzing sensation that was surely brought on by shock is gone.
I squeeze her hand back. “Mira, there’s so much I need to say to you.”
“It can wait.”
“No. It can’t.”
“Grant, you’re in a hospital bed. You have broken ribs and a nasty wound on your back from broken glass. And you almost burned to death. We can talk about petty life drama later.”
“But this isn’t petty.” I call on what little strength I have to sit up a bit, flinching with each muscle movement. Mira flinches with me, reaching out but thinking twice before she touches me. I nod to the cup of water on the bedside, and she jumps to retrieve it, bringing it to my lips. I take it from her and sip slowly, letting it soothe my dry throat. “You’re right.” My voice is stronger this time. “My dad’s passing fucked me up. I know that doesn’t make me any different from anyone else who lost a parent. I know I’ve been blaming the world. But I’ve mostly been blaming myself.”
Mira waits patiently for a beta of silence to pass between us. “Why?”
“Because I wasn’t there when he needed me most. I checked out. Completely. He’d meet me at Othello Station and we’d take the train together to his chemo appointments downtown. But towards the end, I…I couldn’t stand to see him anymore. I’d watch him from my apartment window. Watch him stand at the station. Watch him wait for me. He’d never come to the building to knock on my door. He just…” I cough, and it sends a shooting pain through my throat. I take another sip of water, inhaling slowly to draw on more strength. I’m not sure where it comes from. This subject is threatening to take my life all over again.
My eyes meet Mira’s, and I realize exactly where it’s coming from.
“He just knew,” I choke out. “And then the day came. The end. And I got the call.”
“And?”
My fingers tighten around Mira’s. A flood of pain beats at me, but I push through. I can, because the dove’s here. The angel’s wings are around me. “And I didn’t go to see him. I never said goodbye.”
Mira’s jaw clenches and it’s as if all the air is sucked from the room. Seconds tick by. They feel like hours. She finally stands and moves closer to my side, peering down at me with the most empathetic, beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.
“The health anxiety stuff.”
“Yeah.”
“It all makes sense.”
“Does it? It just seems fucking whacked to me.”
“Well, that too.”
“Thanks.”
She bends toward me, her head floating down over mine , bringing her lips to my forehead. She sighs and folds her arms, studying me. “You’re just as crazy as me.”
“I am?”
“Yup.” A little laugh escapes as she wipes at her tears.
“Well, then. I guess I knew it’d never work out.”
“You have it all wrong. Crazy dwells with other Crazy.”
“That sounds like a really bad quote from Ghandi. I wouldn’t quit my job at the hotel, if I were you.”
“Of course you would. You hate my job.”
“I hate how little they pay you and how much they ask you to do.”
“Grant.”
“What?” I cough again, taking another swig of water.
“Even now, if a hospital bed, you’re being a royal, grumpy pain the ass.”
“Of course, I am! I’m in a goddamn hospital bed! Need I say more?”
Mira’s amusement blooms for a moment, then starts to fade. “What are we supposed to do?”
“About what?”
“This.” She waves between us.
“Uh, we get me the fuck out of here. No way am I staying in this robe. And I’m beginning to feel claustrophobic.” I shudder. Stupid hospitals.
“I mean you and me, Crazy Man.”
“Well, I clearly have commitment issues, am prone to sabotaging the only good things in my life, and have a real knack for getting in car crashes. And you….well, you’re just flat-out strange. I’d say that means we pray like hell we last one more day. ‘Cause it’s not looking too promising, sweetheart.”
“I don’t know,” Mira kisses my forehead again and treats me to another view of that bright, gorgeous smile I’ve grown to crave. “We also crash bikes, drink beer at concerts, and get in fights with vegetables and cutting boards. I think that makes the odds pretty good.”
“How the hell do you figure that?”
“Well, we’re bound to keep things interesting. It’s boredom that kills us. Sucks the life from everything.”
“Meh.” I reach up and tug her down as best as I can, positioning her next to me on the bed. Everything aches, and she makes it clear she doesn’t approve, but I pull her toward me anyway. I can take the pain. I can take anything, as long as she’s by my side. “If you’re game, I’m game.” I match her smile but take a second to level her with a serious gaze. “Do you forgive me?”
“Forgive what?”
“You know what.”
“Grant, the moment I saw you in that ambulance, I knew everything I needed to know.”
“Meaning…”
“I love you. I want you. Unconditionally.”
As I take in this angel’s words, I mentally kick myself for ever thinking this was just another girl. That she could ever be just another name in a sea of faces. She’s the dove I didn’t know I was waiting for. The one I needed to harass me, to stir the life inside of me that I was sure was dead. I’m still not quite alive, but I’m no longer Frankenstein.
I glance down at my stitches and hospital gown. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.
I might always be Frankenstein. And that stormy Carebear—or was it a cloudy one? But thanks to this dove sitting next to me, this monster has found his way home. Back to Othello Station. Back to life. Back to something good. Back to where it all began. With a smile and an affectionate gesture. A squeeze of the shoulder from Mira, the same kind my dad always use to give.
“Just let the light guide you home, Kid,” his voice echoes in my mind. “It never steers you wrong.”
THE END
OTHELLO STATION OFFICIAL PLAYLIST
Make You Better – The Decemberists
Prayer in C – Lilly Wood and The Prick and Robin Schulz
Peaches – In the Valley Below
We’re Gonna Be Friends – White Stripes
Mess is Mine – Vance Joy
Steady as She Goes – The Racounteurs
Black Sun – Dea
th Cab for Cutie
Cecilia and the Satellite – Andrew McMahon
Moaning Lisa Smile – Wolf Alice
Brooklyn Baby- Lana Del Rey
Old Money – Lana Del Rey
Things I Regret – Brandi Carlile
Holy Dove – Civil Twilight