“UMmmm…Daisy, come on, give me some grace here. I’ve been to hell and back, no pun intended, what with the Lower Peninsula being called that by Big Nob."
“Sure, I
get it,” she said, standing next to me with hands on her hips. “I know your
body and mind have experienced trauma. I’ve had plenty of years to witness
people coping with it and know too well the odd symptoms exhibited. Still, I’m
curious as to the association or connection that brain of yours is making
between her and me.”
“Dammit
all, don’t make me think about it Daisy. The only thing distracting me from all
my discomfort is the thought of getting home. And, when I say all my discomfort
I mean in every part of my being. I’m telling you, when I feel better I’m gonna
off load a whole lot of craziness I experienced in less than a week.”
The
ventilation duct spewed nasty air. Sunshine baked a big splat of bird crap on
the window. Mocking me, the poop resembled the image of my first brain scan. Typically
not squeamish, I gagged twice and pointed at the window.
“Get me
some pajama bottoms to wear home,” I said. “I’m getting out of this cursed room
while I wait to be freed.”
“Fine,”
said Daisy, and walked away in a huff.
Struggling
to keep my balance, I stood and used the wheeled tray to make my way to a small
cabinet against the wall by the bathroom. Except for the blood-soaked pants and
a sock that were cut from me, the rest of my clothes were in a clear plastic bag.
Hospital ankle socks would suffice.
Daisy
returned and yelled at me.
“Sit
your ass down mister! Do you want to fall and get stuck here longer? What the
hell were you thinking? Never mind, don’t answer. You weren’t thinking. What
was I thinking by asking you that?”
There it
was again. Daisy wasn’t one to cuss and her doing so added weight to my
troubled soul. I plopped into the chair so she could get the pajama bottoms on
me and slip my shirt on.
“This
shirt stinks of fish,” said Daisy, “but, I’m done fighting you.”
I
sighed, apologized, and sniffed my shirt. The aroma coaxed a tiny smile from my
lips until shame slapped it away.
“Clay
caught a nice trout,” I said. “I got my limit in Brookies. Yah, but now they’re
gone, just like Clay maybe, and I failed him Sweety.”
The
feeling of death come calling but I was too weary to resist or challenge.
Putting my hands to my head, I clutched at my hair and clenched my teeth.
“You no
good bastard,” I said aloud as Nurse Macy came in.
“Me oh
my, you love me that much,” she said.
“Not you
Macy,” I said, eyes blood shot and forming shiny tears. “Death was who I was
addressing. I feel it doing a sneak-up and wanting to take someone captive.”
“Not you
Mr. Thunder. You’re doing great,” said Macy.
Daisy
stared out the window and I swear she smiled.
“Am I?”
I asked, “Am I doing great?”
“You’re
alive.”
“I’m not
so sure, Macy. Something isn’t right but I’ll be damned if I hang around while
thinking about it.”
“You’re
free to go, and wow, ready to go. Expect good things,” said Macy. She hugged us
and left.
After
all the release protocol was followed we were finally in my wife’s SUV. A bell
chimed 3 times in a tower at the nearby university. Brief as it was, the
morning storm had refreshed and rejuvenated everything and everyone but me.
Grime from camping, a car wreck, and spiritual muck raking, clung to me inside
and out.
As we
passed a sign saying thank you for visiting Marquette, I leaned my head against
the vehicle’s passenger window.
“Daisy?”
I asked.
“Yes,
dear.”
“I was
so anxious to get home but I gotta tell ya, I’ve never felt at home anywhere. I
guess, for me anyhow, no place or any place might be home.”
Copyright ©
2015 Migizi M. New Song. All Rights Reserved.
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