Envisioning Hope

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Envisioning Hope Page 7

by Tracy Lee


  Waiting…

  Waiting…

  I looked down at my clipboard and dropped my bag down on the paper filled ground deciding to give it a few more minutes. I pushed my leg out and clicked my pen on my clipboard a few hundred times, still waiting for some type of response.

  Nothing.

  Finally, I'd had enough. I cleared my throat and went to speak.

  "I said go the hell away. I'm not dealing with your shit test and I don't have shit to say to you."

  She never even turned over, just said what she had to say. This was absolutely ridiculous. I couldn't believe I had to coerce a grown woman out of bed and to put some clothes on. I was done being nice. I tried it the way the manuals told us to, which I knew wouldn't work, it was now time to do it the Sheldon way.

  I made sure she knew that I wasn't leaving. I slammed my clipboard down on the table loudly and rummaged through the bag that Doc Underwood put the clothes in for me the night before. Finding a shirt, jeans, and some socks, I made sure she knew that I was not leaving.

  I did this all as I spoke in a deep, angry tone, "I told you, Mrs. Saxton, that I was coming back today. I also told you that I was not dealing with this. So, since you want to act like a three year old, I will treat you like one. I guess I'm going to have to dress you myself!"

  Just as I finished, Hope sat straight up in the bed. Oh, that got her attention. Tough love was apparently going to be the way to deal with Hope Saxton. If she could dish it, then so could I.

  I marched to the bed, making sure to stomp so that she knew I was heading in her direction. Her posture became more rigid with every step I took.

  She knew.

  I reached her side and lowered myself down into a kneeling position as I grabbed her hands. She pulled away from me violently. I took a deep breath in, reigning in my anger.

  "I want you to do this with me, Hope. I am putting my hands over yours so that you can feel the textures and explain to me what you think you have in your hands. Now, grab the material I am holding out in front of you." My voice was loud and demanding, it had to be over all the noise in the room. I put the separated cotton socks out in front of her.

  She didn't move.

  I was only scheduled to be here an hour and I had just wasted thirty minutes getting to the side of the bed. In the deepest voice I could muster, I made my demand known.

  "Grab the socks or I'm going to dress you and you're not going to like it!"

  Instantly, Hope threw her arms out violently as though she was swatting away a swarm of bees. At this point, it registered that I wasn't hearing the television anymore because her screams were drowning out the already overbearing noise in the room. Her arms were flailing everywhere. She caught me once in the face as I threw my body down on top of her.

  "Get out of here!" Hope screamed, over and over. "I'm not doing anything you tell me to! Leave me alone!"

  Hope's body struggled underneath me and I allowed her to wear herself out. No one had ever pushed her like this, I was sure of it. Of course, it was going to have its drawbacks, but the outcome would be worth it.

  I heard the stampede of nurses and doctors pour into the room as she began to slow her movements. I quickly raised my hands to let them know not to intervene. Too many people had intervened, it wasn't going to happen again while she was under my supervision.

  Her screams became quiet and throaty, having had screamed herself hoarse. As she calmed, I put my face down to the side of her ear so that she could hear everything I had to say.

  "Shh, it's done…you're done. Now that we have that out of the way, are you going to sit up and put these socks on, or am I going to put them on for you? It's your choice, but I can promise you, I'm not leaving here until these clothes are on you. Got it?"

  I stayed where I was. Hope's breathing slowed to a normal rate as moved to rest on my knees, taking some of my weight off of her. I waited for her to respond.

  And waited…

  And waited…

  I was done waiting. I got off, lowered myself to the floor, and picked up one of her feet. She pulled it away. I went to grab it again when I heard the best sound I've ever heard.

  Hope's voice.

  "Give me the goddamn socks. I'll put them on myself."

  I wasn't about to let her know, but on the inside, I was smiling huge.

  Chapter 10

  Four Months Later

  He was coming.

  Oliver was coming and I wasn't in the mood for him to be bossy. I'd had that nightmare again. I ran the back of my hand over my forehead, wiping the sweat from my brow. I never went back to the place in my dream where I was happy. I would try to coax myself by placing myself in that same chair, but I kept finding myself in the one place I didn't want to be. The car, Charlie driving and me trying to figure out a way to make us avoid the truck. My plan never worked. The conclusion was always the same. A blinding burst of light would flash in my head and then here I was, waking up to a life full of guilt and pain.

  Oliver had been coming every day since my freak out and every day was the same as the first. If I don't get dressed, he would attempt to dress me. One day I actually tested him and was shocked when he actually started to do it.

  I learned not to test him again.

  I stood up from the bed and walked slowly to the small table that was directly in the middle of the room. I reached my hand out and grasped the chair, feeling the rough denim of my jeans that were lying across the back. Placing them on my upper arm, I reached out again and clutched the more delicate cotton fabric of my t-shirt.

  I still had the images of last night's dream in my head as I sat back down on the bed. The explosion, the flash of light, it all seemed so real my stomach began to churn. I was miles away from this hospital in a place I didn't want to be. As many times as I had the dream over the last several months, I stopped looking back at Sawyer. It made the reality of it all that much more difficult. Waking up every morning, knowing you could only see your son again in your mind right before he–

  I pulled myself back to my reality. I wouldn't say it. I couldn't. Bringing my hands up to my neck, I began to untie the hospital gown's string. A deep, demanding voice I had become used to spoke out of nowhere.

  "Wait… don't do that."

  I didn't even hear him come in. I was apparently too lost in thought to feel the pressure change of the door being opened.

  "What…why? Don't you want me to get dressed? Isn't that why you come here every day? To annoy me with your demands and activities?" I asked, my voice saturated with extra sarcasm.

  I wanted to make sure he knew that I was riled up and really not in the mood for today's lessons.

  "The nurse is going to help you take a shower while I wait in here. We're trying some new exercises today."

  I rolled my eyes. I wasn't up for trying something new. Today, I wanted him to leave and never come back. I wanted to crawl back in bed and try my hardest to find the place where my happiness was with Charlie and Sawyer.

  Throughout the months, I had to say I was proud of myself. Giving Oliver his time, he had taught me simple things. Actions that most of us would take for granted. Take, for instance, pouring myself a glass of water. The deed seemed so easy in thought, but was a difficult one to master. Taking a shower was another one I found to be a bit challenging.

  I know that sounds strange and, don't get me wrong, I knew where the parts were. It was trying to do all the tasks at one time in the pitch black that made it challenging. I had to wash, hold onto the handrail for balance, and make sure I didn't miss a spot. It wasn't like I could check to see. Needless to say, I got it down. I was now clean and I'm sure that the nurses were grateful to Oliver for that success.

  Other accomplishments dealt with counting my steps around a room so that I could memorize large surface areas just like I did in my room here at the hospital. I now knew how to touch an object to find detail. I wasn't touching objects anymore just to admire, I was handling them to find out exactly
what they were. The one task that I was thankful for, he helped me learn how to do a bit of makeup. Oliver provided light tones as we practiced where to start the edge of the pencil and how many swipes of the brush against the bronzer it would take to give a slight color to my pale cheeks. I slowly began to feel like I was getting back to my old life. Finding some type of independence was a good thing for me.

  Until my mind wandered back to the one thing that kept me in here.

  We had fought several times after that first big power struggle, but as things became easier to me, I began to pick my battles. I knew he was up for the challenge, but I didn't want to spend time in that chair. Knowing him, he'd use it. Hearing the sound of paper moving across the floor, I knew he was walking in my direction. I stood up and turned toward the scuffling.

  "I know, I know…I'm going."

  I was not in the mood for fighting. Pushing the clothes back up on my arm, I started toward the door where I knew the nurse would be waiting to take me down to the showers. Just as I put my fingers around the knob, his voice caught my attention.

  "One radio a day."

  I raised my head as though I was looking straight through the door. I knew what he was talking about, in the last couple of weeks he began asking me about the sounds in the room and I found myself ignoring his questions. I knew I would pick my battles but the sounds and lights were two battles he was not winning.

  "Not a chance."

  I turned around to show him that my decision was final. Those radios were my sanity. I crossed my arms over my chest in a power stance that spoke the words I didn't need to say.

  "For now."

  That was the only response I got, so I turned back to the door and turned the knob.

  * * *

  "How ‘bout a field trip!" Oliver exclaimed as I came back into my room. That was the reason they supplied me with shoes after my shower. I sucked the panic back into my mouth as I drew in a heavy breath. I wasn't ready to go out of my room, there was no way I was ready.

  "No!" I didn't waste any time letting him know exactly how I felt about his field trip idea. How in the world could he think taking me out where life has gone on as if nothing had ever happened could help me when I was barely able to leave my hospital room? I turned around and placed my hand on the knob. Before I could move any further, I heard his voice directly in my ear.

  "Hope, trust me…please?"

  His voice was soft and gentle, his breath wisped across my ear and I could feel his question as the words left his mouth. It wasn't just a question, it was a promise.

  I pulled my head up, his scent still in my nose and the sound of his question still ringing in my ear.

  Trust him…why? I wasn't anyone to this man, how can I put my trust in someone that I can't even see, let alone a man who is no more to me than a complete stranger? The last time I put my trust in someone it got him killed.

  "How?" I whispered so softly, I wasn't even sure he could hear me. I felt his hand cover mine and he spoke softly in my ear once more.

  "It's easy. Let go of the door and take my hand."

  This decision seemed like it was the hardest in my life. Turn the knob and go back to where I was safe and secure, alone and lost in my thoughts, or take my hand off and allow him to lead me to a place I didn't know and couldn't see?

  I wasn't ready for that.

  My grip on the door became tighter as I turned in his direction. He hadn't moved, I could feel the heat of his skin directly in front of my face. I drew in a breath and let it go…

  "I'm sorry."

  As soon as I finished the word, I flung the door open and hurried back into my safe and secure world.

  Flinging my shoes off, I headed for my bed. I felt the pressure of the door being opened.

  "Sorry? What the hell does that mean, Hope?" Oliver's voice was growing closer to me and it sounded aggravated and intense. He was the one who was pissed off? Because I didn't want to go on his little excursion, he was mad? Well, he'd just have to get over that. "Explain it to me, Hope, because I thought we were making progress! And, what is it with the radios and lights?" I ignored the last part of the question again as I swallowed down my emotions and answered with the best excuse I could come up with.

  "I don't feel well."

  He wasn't going to buy that. Hell, I didn't even buy it. I could hear the papers being kicked up and out of the way as he came closer still.

  "You don't feel well?" He repeated my excuse and I realized just how ridiculous it sounded. I bowed my head in regret, knowing I rightfully deserved this ass reaming. I would rather take this than admit that I was weak and unwilling to go back out into a world where I was alone and surrounded by darkness. That world was beyond my control. At least in here I had some amount of control, and, even then, I could barely deal with it all.

  "For the past several months, I have had to deal with your hard ass giving me nothing but grief and rejection every time I turn around." At this statement, I became rigid because that was so untrue. "When it came to brushing your hair it was, ‘no, I have a headache'. When it came to putting your clothes on it was, ‘no, I'm comfortable in this'. When it came to pouring water into a cup it was, ‘no, it's too hard'." I slowly lowered my posture in slight defeat; it was all true. I did fight him on everything, but I was not about to admit to it. The trash on the floor started moving again as he began walking. "I gave you the benefit of the doubt, but now you're gonna start talking. First, answer my question that I know your ignoring on purpose. What's with the sounds?"

  I was not about to let him into my head. Oliver Sheldon was here to help me with everyday necessities, not to counsel me on why I have thirty-two electronics playing at the same time.

  And… well, the excuses were none of his business. If I wouldn't even talk to my family, why the hell would he think I'd talk to him? I went to lie back down in my bed when his footsteps became faster, harder.

  "Oh, no you don't!" he yelled as I felt his arms grip my shoulders, pulling me back up to a sitting position. The bed dipped further as he took a seat beside me and pulled me closer to him. Panic began to rise in me. I wasn't ready to answer these questions and I sure as shit wasn't ready to be made to answer them.

  "What's with the excuses, Hope?" he asked as he gave my shoulders a small squeeze. His hands felt nice on me, I hadn't felt someone's hands on me in over a year. I shook my head at the thoughts of his touch and brought my attention back to the subject at hand.

  "Answer me…why can't you work with me on the noise in this room? Why won't you realize that everything I am doing is intended to make you the person you used to be?"

  That was it. He didn't know the person I used to be and I was not about to let him think he was going to use this against me.

  Fuming, I stood up instantly and pointed my unseeing eyes at him still sitting on my bed. "Screw you, Oliver! You have no clue who I used to be! I used to have my sight, you gonna give me back my eyes to make me the person I used to be? I used to be a loving wife, you gonna bring back my husband to make me the person I used to be? I used to live for my son, you gonna bring him back to make me the person I used to be? You cannot ‘make me'," I raised my hands in air quotations for emphasis, "the person I used to be. Now, if you don't get your shit and get out of here, I will lose my temper and happily sit in that chair you like to threaten me with!"

  Aside from the radios that had become a soothing background noise to me, the room was silent. I walked away from Oliver and I made my way to the door. Before I could even make it to the table in the middle of the room, he spoke in that gentle but loud voice again.

  "Had a wife, she left me. Said I paid more attention to my job than I did to her. But, what she didn't see was that I worked my ass off so that I could make her happy. I bought her a nice home in the suburbs, made sure she had a dependable car so I didn't have to worry about her when she went out… I even bought her a dog." I heard him snicker as I pictured him thinking about his dog running around in the front y
ard of his suburban home. "Loved her so much, it made my insides hurt. Ever felt love like that?" I didn't answer because he knew I had. "To this day, I swear I'll never love someone as much as I loved her. Now, she's married to a man who has his own business, has a coupl'a kids… she's happy."

  I heard him clear his throat and knew that this confession was harder than he was portraying it to be. I suddenly felt bad for the things I had said and the way I acted toward him. I forgot to think of him as a person. To me, most of these doctors and nurses weren't people, they were doctors and nurses. They didn't treat me like a human being, they treated me like a patient who was in need of calming injections and daily doses of pills that would keep me so doped up I could barely function at all. I needed to take step back and actually start thinking of them more as people with lives, families, hobbies, maybe even children and dogs and white picket fences.

  "You think that if something happened to me while we were together I'd want her living the way you are?"

  My back became rigid. There went my reasoning right out the window. This wasn't about me, this was about him. He didn't know my Charlie, he had no clue that that man was my world, the one who made my heart beat each second throughout the day. If I couldn't have him, this life wasn't worth living.

  "Look at yourself, Hope. Do you think he's looking down on you, happy with the decisions you've made for yourself?"

  How dare him!

  "You don't know shit about Charlie!" I screamed as I stormed in the direction of his voice. "You don't know what kind of man he was!" I continued yelling as I attempted to buck up to him.

  "I know if he was any kind of man he wouldn't want you living this way!" Oliver yelled just as loud and fierce. "You think that if he walked into this room he'd be pleased with the way you've taken this second chance at life? Why someone thought you deserved it, I'm still trying to figure out, but would he be thrilled to see you like this? Thrilled that you haven't used your second chance the way it should be used?"

 

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