My upper and lower eye lids, like quarreling
lovers, put a bit of distance between them and allowed evening sunlight to
referee their spat. A rumbling roar vibrated against my back and reminded me of
my heated massage recliner at home. If only.
“Take it easy sir,” said a uniformed young woman as
she leaned over my face. “You’ve crashed on me two times already. We’re a
person short today so please cut me some slack,” she said smiling. “You are in
a helicopter being flown to a hospital.”
Crash, that’s about all I’d been doing for the last
5 days, figuratively and literally. I thought crunching head-on into a tree
with the car was as a personal best. No, I topped it by having my heart stop a
couple times while trapped in the wreckage and twice more while airborne.
Three bags of fluid pole-danced about on chromed
steel tubing like strippers. Watery nectar and purplish-red blood found their
way into my injured body through winding trails of plastic tubes and vein-deep needles.
My pants felt like they were inflating with air and
the vise-like pressure made my right leg howl. I grabbed at it with my hand
while trying to raise my head and look. My attention shifted when I saw people
sitting around me. My eyes opened wide at the sight.
“No you don’t,” said the medical technician as she
tightened up restraints on my wrists. “You’re a tough old bastard, ornery, but
come on, work with me here, I’m trying to keep you alive.”
Pulling some reserve strength from the big toe of my
left foot, I managed a few weak but desperate words to express my awe.
“Look who’s here!” I said while pointing one finger
toward my feet.
“Better do what she tells you, Migizi,” said Aura,
the young woman I saw in the woods where I crashed, “or she’ll zing you again
with those electrified spatulas.”
Nine people, mashed together in a horseshoe
formation, gawked at me with expressions suggesting I was a freak show
attraction. Next to Aura sat Jovee, followed by Clay, and who could only be the
rest of my buddy’s citizens. Ginx, Sheriff, Thorny, Mike, and His favorite Gal
huddled together in the tight cabin of the mechanical bird.
My mind betrayed any attempt at reason as I tried to
tell myself they weren’t real. They were Clay’s illusions, cast members of a
drama on stage within one man’s imagination. Blinking hard, I hoped to scrape
the images from my lenses like bug guts from a windshield. To my dismay, they
remained and added one more person to their number, my wife. Amnesia, not one
to play favorites or be cajoled, denied my plea to be pals.
My heart, beating like over tightened bongos, energized
me and I desperately tried to reach out to my partner, support, and
cheerleader. Her eyes, bright and shiny with confidence, told me all would be
okay. She touched my hand and intense burning took place beneath my tongue.
“Clay! I remember!” I cried out and lost
consciousness.
Copyright ©
2015 Migizi M. New Song. All Rights Reserved.
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