by Kim Pritekel
She may have had height on me, but I was quick, and had twenty-three years of experience. Though I had to admit, she had been taught well, and her concentration and focus was wonderful. She must be a true joy to have in class.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard the door to the building open as the students began to trickle in, murmurs of excitement as they watched their Sabum Nim, and Sunbae Nim fight. Soon I realized we had a complete circle around us. This, of course, egged us on even more.
We fought hard, both of us sweaty and charged with energy and waiting for the kill.
Finally I saw my opportunity, and knowing we had to bring this to an end, I swept Haley off her feet, pinning her with my elbow to her sternum. The class around us cheered, and I smiled down at her. She smiled back.
"Nice," she said.
"Thanks." Her dark bangs were stuck to her forehead, and I could feel my entire head crawling with little beads of sweat. I stood, helping Haley to her feet. "Let’s hear it for Sunbae Nim, Haley." I lifted her arm, turning her in a circle as she was cheered on. I looked at her, she was smiling at me.
"I want a rematch, Littman."
"You got it."
* * *
I made my way to room 301 for the second time this week. When I had been in Monday, Hannah Blackwell had looked great. She’d been up and around, her color had looked good, and she had been very talkative.
Hannah had agreed to be a test subject for me, trying our latest theories, and lots of them had worked nicely thus far, though it was pretty soon to really gauge.
"Good afternoon, Dr. Littman." Nurse Wilson said from the nurse’s station. I smiled.
"How are you today?" I stopped for a moment, my arm resting along the high counter top. The woman with the smoothest dark skin I had ever seen, nodded her head.
"Can’t really complain. Well, I could, but what good would that do?" We both chuckled.
"How’s Hannah doing today?" she shook her head, clicking her tongue.
"Not well, doctor. You’d best get in there."
With a heavy sigh, and even heavier heart, I headed to her room. Hannah lay in her bed, her wheelchair by the bed, and a woman sitting next to the sleeping younger woman. Her head was bent over, and I could hear the soft sobs.
About to turn around, not wanting to interrupt or intrude upon such a personal moment, I headed for the door.
"Excuse me?" I stopped, slowly turning to face the woman, her eyes swollen and red, black streaks from make-up watery from tears running down her cheeks. She quickly grabbed a tissue, and began to wipe her face.
‘Yes, ma’am?"
"Are you a doctor here?"
"Well, I’m not Hannah’s doctor. I’m Dr. Littman." The woman smiled, taking a step closer to me.
"Hannah’s talked about you. I’m Joan, Hannah’s mother."
"It’s nice to meet you, Joan. How is she doing today?"
"Not good." She turned and looked down at her daughter. I could see the anguish in her face, and the desperation in her eyes as she turned back to me. "Is there anything to be done, Dr. Littman? Haven’t you guys come up with something in your lab? Anything?"
"Well, unfortunately science can only work so fast, and humans work even slower. Someday I believe there will be a cure for this, but right now isn’t that day. Hannah has done well, though."
"That’s what her doctor’s say. She’s my only baby, so young." She ran a trembling hand over her daughter’s face, then sat down again.
"I’m so sorry," was all I could say, feeling my own throat tighten for how this woman must feel. "I have to get going. I only came by to say hello."
"Thank you, Dr. Littman. I know that your visits have meant a lot to Hannah." I looked at her, stunned. I had no idea.
"Well, I’m glad, then. I’ll certainly keep coming by." I smiled, then turned and left the room.
As I made my way downstairs to the lunchroom, I thought about that poor girl laying in the bed, today her body useless to her. She was experiencing nearly complete paralysis. It may go away by tomorrow, or may stick around for a week. One never knew with this.
I sighed, and pushed the button on the elevator. How on earth did medical doctors deal with this? How did they separate themselves from the patients they tried to help? What about those who just couldn’t be helped?
I know Hannah’s doctor, and knew she had the best the hospital had to offer. But chances were good that there wasn’t much hope for her.
Knowing that Erin wouldn’t be able to come to lunch today, as she was entirely too busy to leave, I sat at a table by myself, not hungry, but needing some time away from the lab. If even fifteen minutes. I ran my hands through my hair, and sighed.
"Hey there. Looks like your dog just died." I looked up to see Haley staring down at me, her lunch in her hand. I smiled.
"Hey, yourself."
"May I sit?" I nodded. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I was just up to see Hannah Blackwell. God, it’s so sad to see that poor girl withering away like that."
"I know." Haley sat down, getting herself organized with her bowl of barley soup, and an array of different kinds of crackers. "I was up there this morning. She couldn’t even move." I nodded.
"Her mom is up there now. She’s really torn up about this."
"I can understand that." She smiled, but it was so sad. I thought of her father. What was she going through with this? What about her mom, who was there with him all the time?
"Your mom must be one strong woman, Haley." She looked at me for a moment, then began to crush crackers into the soup.
"She is. They put dad on a new medicine yesterday."
"What is it?"
"Avanex."
"That’s a good one. I hope his body will respond well to it."
"Yeah, me, too." She looked at me for a moment, taking a bite of the soup that smelled really, really good. "So tell me about yourself, Andi. Are you married? In a relationship?"
"I’m in a relationship. What about you? Married?" I had been so curious about this question, wondering what Haley had done with her personal life. She nodded.
"I was. For two years." I was surprised, but not that much.
"When did it end?"
"Oh, jeez, five years ago, I guess? Wow, time goes by fast. We were both still in school. Both were far too young."
"What was his name?"
"Lonnie."
"Wow. I’m trying to picture you heading down that aisle." I smiled, resting my cheek against my fist.
"Well, I never did." She grinned. "We didn’t have a whole lot of money, and certainly no time, my folks and Holden flew out, and we did a little Justice of the Peace thing. Then our folks threw us a huge reception. It was nice."
"Did you like being married?" she shrugged.
"It was okay, I guess. I think it would have helped if we had gotten married for the right reasons. Getting married to help pay the rent, and to not have to worry about dating while in school are not those reasons." She smiled, so did I.
"Well, you sound okay with it."
"Oh, yeah. I’m fine. We still talk on occasion. He’s way over in Alaska now. He’s the one and only doctor in some tiny little town."
"That’s great."
"Dr. Littman, you have a call on 407. Dr. Littman, call on 407." I sighed, stood.
"Well, I better get. Catch you later?" Haley smiled up at me.
"Bet on it."
Part 11
"Dr. Littman, you have a call on 407. Dr. Littman, call on 407." I sighed, stood.
"Well, I better get. Catch you later?" Haley smiled up at me.
"Bet on it."
I hurried to the small room off the cafeteria where phones were lined up for staff and patient’s families. I picked one up, dialed the number, and sat down on one of the arm chairs that were set around the room, along with a coffee pot, soda machine and microwave.
"This is Dr. Littman."
"Doctor, this is Nurse Wilson upstairs. You need to get
your butt up here, now." I could hear the worry in the nurse’s voice, which sent a chill down my spine. She was always so calm and collected, and I had a feeling I knew what was going on.
"I’m on my way."
I nearly ran to the elevator, then decided I’d take the stairs instead. My footsteps echoed throughout the stairwell, my hand sliding along the railings as I took two stairs at a time.
On the ward, I quickly made my way toward room 301. I felt a lump in my throat when I saw Hannah’s mom out in the hall, crying. I looked into the room to see doctors working quickly on the young woman, and a priest against the wall, muttering to himself.
I turned to Hannah’s mother. She looked up, saw me, and grabbed me in a hug.
"What’s happened?" I asked.
"She stopped breathing," she sobbed. I listened to the doctors in the room, trying to figure out what they were doing, and Hannah’s progress. The sound of the heart machine’s solid noise sent fear through me. Then, almost like a second chance, the noise broke, and the heart machine began to beep.
I sighed, pulling away.
"Hang on a sec." I headed into the room to see what was going. The doctors were beginning to clear out, and Hannah’s eyes were open. She looked at me, the oxygen mask still over her mouth and nose. With a sigh of relief, I headed back out into the hall. "She’s okay."
"Oh, god." Her mother grabbed me in another bone-crushing hug, sobbing even harder. The priest walked out, stood next to us. Hannah’s mom turned to him. "Thank you, Father Gray. Thank you so much for coming." The elderly man smiled at her, taking her hands in his.
"She’ll be fine now. But I’ll always be here for you, okay?" She nodded. "Bless you, child. And bless Hannah." With a smile at us both, he walked away.
"I need to make some phone calls. Thank you, Dr. Littman." She hugged me one last time, then headed toward the phones.
I took a deep breath, and headed back into room 301. Sitting in the chair next to the bed, I looked at Hannah. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me, reaching a hand out. I looked at it for a moment, then took it in mine. It was cold and clammy, but the feeling of her squeezing my fingers was the greatest feeling in the world.
"You really gave us a scare, Hannah," I said, my voice quiet, hushed. She smiled weakly.
"Sorry," she said, barely audible, but I heard it. I smiled.
"No need to be sorry. We’re just glad." She stared at me for a moment, then reached up, slowly pulling her oxygen mask down.
"Dr. Littman?"
"Yes?"
"What’s your name? Your first name." I felt a lump in my throat for a moment, and for a moment more I thought I would cry. Swallowing it all back, I answered.
"Andi." She smiled.
"That’s my husband’s name, Andrew."
"Well, then he’s got a good name." She smiled, nodding.
"He’s a good guy. We have a four year old."
"What’s the name?" I began to rub slow, gentle circles on the back of her hand.
"Savannah." She began to cough, I put her mask back into place.
"That’s a beautiful name, Hannah."
"What the hell’s going on with my wife?" I turned to see a man enter the room followed by Hannah’s doctor. I quickly stood, allowing him room. "Baby," he grabbed her in a hug, being so gentle with her, brushing the sweat-soaked hair back from her forehead, looking at her with such undying love.
I backed up toward the door, feeling like I was intruding on something very special, and very private. It also made me feel sad, and I knew what I had to do tonight.
* * *
I stared at the phone, arms crossed over my chest. I had been home for exactly fifteen minutes, and had tried to muster up the decision, or better yet, courage, to pick it up. Finally, with a sigh, I did, and began to dial.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Erin."
"Hey, you." I could hear the smile in her voice. I closed my eyes.
"Hey. Are you busy?"
"No. Why?" I twirled the phone cord around my fingers, my palms starting to sweat.
"Mind if I come over? We need to talk." She was silent for a moment, I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head, feel the fear creeping up her spine. I’m sure it matched mine.
"Uh, sure. Should I put some dinner on?"
"No, I’m not hungry. I’ll be there in a few." I hung up the phone, taking several deep breaths. I changed into a pair of jeans and tank, and headed out.
I sat in the Jeep for a minute, staring at Erin’s house, knowing she was probably wondering what on earth was going on. Finally gathering my courage, I got out, and headed for the door. I rang the doorbell, and within a few seconds, Erin answered.
"Why are you ringing the bell?" I shrugged, smiled. She lead me to the kitchen where I could smell coffee brewing. "So, what up?" She kept her back to me, which told me a lot. I looked down at my feet, hands on my hips.
"Hannah almost died today." I began, my voice low, trying to keep it steady. Erin turned to look over her shoulder, her eyes filled with concern.
"Oh, Andi. I’m sorry." I nodded, chewing on my lower lip.
"Her husband came in, and he was so loving toward her, it was amazing. The way he was there," I snapped my fingers. "Just like that." I looked up at her. "Erin, I can’t be that way." She sighed, running her hands through her hair.
"Not again."
"Erin, I have been so selfish to you over these last three years, and it’s not fair."
"Andi,"
"No, let me finish. I’m going to do the most unselfish thing that I can for you." I looked at her, feeling my blood pounding in my head, my voice shaking. "I’m going to let you go. You need to find someone who can give you what you need, what you want." Erin’s face began to distort, her eyes filling.
"Don’t do this, Andi. Isn’t it for me to say what I do and do not want?" I shook my head.
"Not this time, Erin. I don’t deserve you." I felt my own eyes begin to fill, thinking of not having her in my life after three years. I would miss her. But, I knew this was for the best. She turned away and walked over to the coffee pot, staring down at it. I took a deep breath, and swallowed. "You know, my dad left the family when I was just a kid. Before that, he and my mom used to fight all the time, nonstop, and even when they weren’t fighting, my dad wasn’t really there." I ran a hand through my hair. "From the young age, I learned that relationships aren’t perhaps all that their cracked up to be."
"So?" She turned and looked at me, her face a picture of stone, hard and angry.
"So, I can’t shove my issues off on you."
"You’re scared, Andi. You know, when I look inside you, I see all that you have to give, all that you give to your work, your martial arts. I tried to be the key for you, but I failed." I shook my head.
"You didn’t fail, Erin. You can’t get blood from a rock. I don’t have it in me." I pounded on my own chest to emphasize my point. "God, you’re such a wonderful woman; beautiful, smart, giving. I can’t continue to take what I can’t give back. It’s not right."
I stopped, not sure what else to say, what else there was I could say. I waited for her response.
"Three years," she whispered. "Three years, and you’re ready to give it away on a whim. How dare you think that what you’re doing is best for me. You don’t know me. Get out." Tears began to stream down her face, and I could feel my own stinging my eyes.
"This is for the best." I whispered. She turned from me, snorting.
"It’s good for you, you mean." I sighed, knowing there wasn’t anything more I could say. I grabbed my car keys where I’d left them on the table, picking through them until I found the key to Erin’s house. Slowly, I slid it off, my hands shaking all the while, and lay it on the wood surface.
I turned back to her, watching her, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she took a step back until she was against the wall, sliding down. I took a step, my conscience warring between wanting to help her and knowi
ng that I couldn’t.
"I told you to get out," she seethed. "I don’t want your comfort. You did this. You were too afraid of feeling, of letting someone in, that you’re running away. Well, you’re very good at that. So run. Run away, so you don’t have to feel any more. Bury yourself in your research, like I know you will. Block the world out. But one day it’s going to seep in and you’re going to have no clue what to do."
I waited to see if she had any more to say, partly wondering if I should reply, but feeling like I deserved every blow she landed.
"Goodbye, Erin." I glanced back at her once, looking at her form slumped against the wall through the tears in my own eyes. With a sigh, I walked out.
I barely remember the drive back home, most of it spent crying, I’m sure. I knew Erin would be angry and hurt, and she had every right to be. But I knew deep down, this was the best thing to do. I couldn’t go on hurting her.
I wiped my eyes with my hand, then my nose. It was over.
My house was dark, as per usual. I lived away from the city a bit, the closest house being about a half mile away. Behind my house was a bike path and a stream, though I had never used it.
I flipped on the light, and walked over to the couch, flopping down. I looked around, a single light on over the fireplace, hardwood floors reflecting it, then fading into shadow.
I sighed, tying to decide what to do, then suddenly felt my chest expand. My hands came up to my face, and my shoulder began to heave with my sobs. Three years, down the drain, and I knew I had hurt Erin bad. That had never been my intent, yet it had happened anyway, and only I was to blame.
* * *
"Ha!" I did a round house, catching my bag squarely in the center. "X" marks the spot. Flipping backwards, I came at it again, front kick, moving to a back kick. "Fuck!" I missed the bag, and fell to the floor, out of breath, sweaty and stunned. I hadn’t fallen in a workout since I was a kid. "Damn." My concentration was shot.