Setting the Stage

“Okay then,” said the officer, “doesn’t appear the kid did anything wrong, although…hmm, I found it odd he was carrying fishing gear when there’s no streams or places to fish in that area. Oh well, very glad you are doing so good Mr. Thunder. I’m running late.”

 

Officer Medetcher handed my wife a card, gave her instructions for retrieving my other belongings from the mangled car, and left.

Jay…Jay, his appearance and the fact he knew Aura and Jovee, wrung out my mind like a rag as it tried making sense of the connection. Apparitions don’t make verifiable phone calls and talk with personas, ones that left their host, Clay. I felt a clammy sweat oozing from every cell of my being.

“Eat those bran muffins I brought you,” said Daisy, “and get some coffee in your system before you have withdrawals. Those headaches are miserable.”

Years of marital conditioning took over and I did as told. My brain’s processor kept working on Jay’s full name as I chewed on a grainy muffin. Daisy stood and opened the curtains. What initially looked to be a clear day had given way to menacing storm clouds much like those gathering in my spirit.

The hospital’s ventilation system kicked in and the telltale odor of disinfectant, topical treatments, and illness made its way to my nose.

“I hate hospitals,” I said with a mouthful of crumbs that sprayed forth like a shotgun blast. “They smell of suffering, death and sorrow. No offense Sweety.”

“I know, I know. You’ve said that for years and what do I always say?”

“Ah, let’s see, I know this. Yes, you always say that a good nurse would tell me many accounts of people rejoicing and getting healed as well. Oh, and that you are a good nurse so you should know.”

I drank some coffee, grateful for its friendship and familiarity, and choked on it when I remembered Jay’s name.

“Still…cough, cough, Water, cough, cough, cough. Jay Still Water is the boy’s name Daisy,” I croaked.

“Well good for you that you remembered,” she said. “Now you won’t be obsessing on it till Juvember.” 

“Yes, but doesn’t that sound familiar?” I asked. “And he looked like someone; I mean reminded me of someone I thought I knew. Who though?” 

“Oh for Hokey Pete’s sake dear, now you’ll obsess on that until you get it or stop trying. Give it all a rest and let yourself get well.”

“Speaking of getting well, tell me more about Clay. You said he’s failing fast.”

“No,” said Daisy, “I said he’s fading fast and there’s a difference.”

“Hunh, how so? What’s up with you Daisy? You’re acting peculiar, edgy like.”

Flustered, my wife peeked in the empty cafeteria bag.

“Was that muffin enough to hold you until lunch? Let’s see, you still have a few hours,” she said, obviously sidestepping my question.

The sound of growling thunder pushed its way through the window’s glass. The changing weather changed the pain in my leg from nagging to surges of sharp jabbing.

Complaining, I said, “Yeowch, my turn to be a human barometer. That’s what I get for teasing others about forecasting storms with their healed broken bones.”

“You want a shot?” asked Daisy.

“No, I’ll be okay. What I want is for you answer me about Clay and stop being an odd ball.”

The bags of fluid draining into me and the coffee I drank made its way to my bladder and I made Daisy aware. Meaning well, a healer in her own right and loving to nurture, she wanted the best for me, yes, wanted me to give the same attention to myself as to my brother. Leaving to search for a pee jug, she was happy to be off the hook and hoped I’d let the subject of Clay go.

“You better hurry Gal,” I said as she walked away. “That catheter messed up my control I think.”

“I just called my wife Gal and she didn’t blink. What the hell?” I asked myself.

Copyright © 2015 Migizi M. New Song. All Rights Reserved.