Cole awoke with a sharp pain in his side as he tried to roll over. His head and neck were throbbing from being propped up on pillows for so long. He reached for his wristwatch on the nightstand. It was 9:15, and the light through the curtain’s gap told him he had survived the night. What day is it, though? he thought. Must be Sunday. Another jolt of pain shot through Cole’s middle as he sat up and put his feet on the floor. He made his way to the bathroom and didn’t much like what he saw in the mirror. Thankfully, his eye was in far better shape than he expected. It was badly bruised, but the butterfly bandage covered the stitches and most of the swelling had gone down. He was in need of a shave, and his hair needed shampooing. Overall, he looked pretty much like he had been stomped by a herd of buffalo.
After a shave, shower, and a long hot soak in the tub, some of the stiffness receded and his mobility improved. He dressed and went to breakfast, stopping at the gift shop in the lobby on the way to buy an overpriced pair of cheap sunglasses. He was able to avoid the stares of the Sunday brunch crowd and idle chitchat of a waitress by going through the buffet and sitting in a dark corner. If anyone noticed him at all, they probably thought he had a hangover.
Cole ate mostly scrambled eggs and blueberry muffins. He got his $12.95’s worth by drinking three cups of Caf￩ Mocha from the coffee bar. His jaw ached, and his bottom lip had a raw gash on the inside, so soft and warm was the order of the day. As he drank his last cup of coffee, he glanced through the paper. No mention of Allen Christopher or Tree Top Jefferson yet, but on the bottom of the front page of the local section there was a teaser for a feature story coming Wednesday on the new Zoning Commissioner entitled “Getting it Right.”
By the time Cole got to his car, he was feeling pretty good. On the drive to Eastwood Manor, he rolled down the windows and turned the radio up. “Good Day Sunshine” blasted from the speakers, and Cole did his best Paul McCartney impersonation as he sailed through traffic on the way to see Ellie. It felt good to be alive! Even a little battered, he was grateful to be in one piece. When “Sunshine of Your Love” came on a few minutes later, Cole proved he knew every one of Clapton’s guitar licks as he mimicked the Stratocaster, wah-wah pedal and all.
Cole was excited to see Ellie. He had decided as he’d lay on the gurney in the ER that he would tell her straight out how much he loved her, how much he had missed her all through the years, and how much he regretted ever letting her get away. There would be no skirting the issue anymore. He wouldn’t hold back. He’d ask her forgiveness. Their parting long ago was mostly his fault, and he knew it. There was no doubt that this was the right thing to do. He could go home knowing he had said all the things he had dreamed of saying for a long, long time.
“Baby, now that I’ve found you, I won’t let you go, baby even though, You don’t need me, now, You don’t need me.” Cole was singing along with The Foundations at the top of his lungs, singing like he hadn’t in years. As he drove, the hits just kept on comin’ and Cole just kept singin’ and smilin’.
The Eastwood Manor parking lot was full. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and the visitors had turned out in droves. Good for them, he thought. They need to visit the folks in here. Cole finally found a spot on the far side of the main building. As he walked to the entrance, he smiled and greeted several people making their way to their cars. A middle-aged couple approached the front door with a big bouquet of colorful flowers. Cole opened the door for them and made a theatrical bow and sweep of his hand inviting them to go in first. This place doesn’t look that bad, he thought as he made his way toward Ellie’s room.
Her door was open, and Cole heard voices coming from inside. He was surprised to see two nurses putting things from the closet into a bag.
“Hi, how are we doing today?” he began.
“Fine,” the older of the two nurses replied.
Cole did not like the way they looked at each other.
“Have they moved Mrs. Christopher?”
The nurses once again looked at each other before the younger of the two answered, “No, she, uh, she got sick. I’m not sure where they put her.”
“Sick? What kind of sick?” Cole demanded.
“Maybe you should talk to Mrs. Elliott. She’s the manager on duty. She’s at the front—”
Cole was running down the hall before the nurse finished her sentence.
“Where’s Mrs. Elliott?” Cole called out to the woman at the front desk as he approached.
“What’s wrong, sir.” The woman stood to her feet.
“Mrs. Christopher, Ellie Christopher in 224, where is she? Where have they taken her?”
“Just a moment. Let me see. It will be okay, sir, please don’t be upset. I’ll find out.” She saw Cole’s panic and picked up the microphone. “Mrs. Elliott, Code 15. Mrs. Elliott, Code 15, front desk please.”
A thin, graying woman came jogging up the hall toward Cole. She moved with a graceful gait with no self-consciousness in her movements.
“How may I help?”
“Mrs. Christopher. Where has she been moved?”
“Are you family?”
“Yes,” Cole said without thinking.
“Mrs. Christopher has been moved to the county hospital. She has been diagnosed with pneumonia. We thought it best if she—”
Cole was already running to his car. He started the engine and sped, tires squealing, from the parking lot. He turned off the radio with an angry snap. The county hospital was 15 minutes away. Cole ran three stoplights in a row and was about to fly through a fourth but spotted a city bus and stopped. He had no thoughts. He only wanted to get to the hospital. His focus was speed and avoiding hitting anything that would stop or slow his getting there.
The rental car nearly left the pavement as Cole turned into the hospital parking lot and hit a speed bump. He parked and ran the 50 or so yards to the entrance. Pulling the automatic door open with a hard yank, he walked quickly to the reception desk. A woman in her 70s in a red-and-white striped bibbed jumper watched with apprehension as Cole approached.
“Ellen Christopher. What room?”
“Let me see.” The woman ran her fingers down a typed list under a rippled sheet of plastic. “That was Christopher?”
“Yes, yes, what room?”
“That would be, ahh, yes, here it is, 318B. Now remember, B indicates the right side of the room.” She spoke quickly but ended up speaking to Cole’s back.
A blue curtain was drawn around the right side of Room 318. A shadow of a person standing with their back toward Cole could be seen through the curtain. Cole had stood for a long moment trying to decide what to do when the curtain pulled back and a small black woman stepped away from the bed.
“Hello,” the woman said softly.
“Hello.”
“Are you here to see Ellen?”
“Yes, what has happened?”
“Are you her husband?”
“No. He won’t be coming,” Cole said coldly.
“I can’t discuss her case with—”
“Look, I’m all she’s got right now. What’s her condition?” Cole said in a pleading voice.
The woman looked deep into Cole’s eyes, then down at the floor. “I’m Dr. Ewing, Ellen’s physician. She has pneumonia. I’m afraid it is a complication that she really can’t afford right now. We have her on strong antibiotics, but that requires taking her off her ALS meds.”
“How bad is she?”
“I’m not going to lie to you. It is very bad.”
“Is she awake? I really need to— I mean I have to let her know....”
“Please don’t distress her. She’s very weak, and I don’t want her upset.”
“I need to tell her how much I love her.” Cole’s throat felt as if he had been swallowing sand.
“I see.” The doctor looked up at Cole. “Well, that never hurt anyone, did it?” She walked past him and out into the hall.
Cole approached the side of the bed, and Ellie turned and looked u
p at him. “Hi, big guy. You look like hell,” she said weakly.
“So do you.” Cole smiled and gently nudged her arm.
“Thanks.” Ellie’s lips smiled, but her eyes looked far way.
“I am so sorry I wasn’t there, El,” Cole offered.
“They’ve killed me, Cole,” Ellie said weakly.
“What do you mean? Who?”
“At Eastwood. They put me in the bath.” Ellen coughed, finding it hard to breathe. “They left me in there. The nurse went off duty, didn’t tell the girl coming on duty. I was in the bath nearly three hours. I got a chill from the water getting cold.”
“You’re going to be all right, sweetie, don’t worry.” Cole gently stroked Ellie’s hair back onto her forehead.
“You haven’t called me ‘sweetie’ in a long time.” Ellie smiled and seemed to focus.
“Ellie, there is something you need to know. Something I have wanted to say for a long, long time.” Cole began.
“How we doin’?” a short, slightly overweight Filipino nurse chirped in a singsong voice. “Time to check your oxygen.”
The nurse looked at the dials at the head of the bed and made an adjustment. She gently moved the small tubes feeding oxygen through Ellie’s nose and adjusted the elastic straps around her head. Taking an electric thermometer from a clip on her waistband, she popped on a new tip, and placed it in Ellie’s mouth.
“Your wife is looking better today.”
Ellie smiled, lips tight around the thermometer. There seemed to be a twinkle in her eyes.
“She always looks good to me,” Cole said softly.
“How you feeling, Hon?” the nurse asked, removing the thermometer.
“I’ve been better,” Ellie said with a weak smile.
“Always with the jokes, this one. I want you to keep still and rest. You got a nasty bug, and you got to be strong to fight it off.” With that, the nurse bustled out of the room as quickly as she had entered.
“I would get more rest if they would just leave me alone for awhile.” Ellie said thickly, “I wonder if—” Her words were cut short by a cough. Her coughing continued, and she gasped as she inhaled. Ellie rolled to her side and her knees pulled up nearly to her chest as the harsh rasp worsened.
Cole stroked her back as her thin body convulsed with the cough. Ellie gasped like a drowning person. Cole fumbled for the control that had been laid on the bed. He pushed the button to call the nurse. He was starting to panic. Several seconds passed, and her cough was worsening.
Cole went to the hall. He looked in both directions and saw no nurses in sight. “NURSE!” he screamed at the top of his voice.
The small Filipino woman appeared from a room down the hall. She saw Cole and broke into a run.
“What is it?” she called.
“She can’t breathe. She’s coughing. It won’t stop.”
The nurse immediately hit the red button by the door as she entered Ellie’s room. A bleating alarm rang in the hall, and Cole could see a rotating blue light bouncing off the walls.
“Try to relax, Mrs. Christopher, look at me now.” The nurse was rubbing Ellie’s back with deep rapid movements.
Suddenly the room was full of nurses, and Doctor Ewing ran into the room.
“Who lowered this bed? She needs to be elevated! Get her upstairs, Stat! OR 3 is free. We’ve got to drain her lungs if she’s going to make it. Get her on her stomach. Go, go, go!” Doctor Ewing was out of the room and running toward the elevator.
Cole stood just outside the doorway, trying not to get in the way. The two male nurses were pulling the bed from the room. The oxygen tubes snapped from Ellie’s head and dangled, hissing, from the wall. As she passed Cole, her body was lifting from the bed with each convulsive cough, and all he could see were the whites of her eyes. Cole’s back was to the cool green wall of the hallway. He put his hands on the top of his head and closed his eyes.
“God, don’t let her die. Please, Jesus, just a little longer, oh, God, please, just a little longer.” Cole was rocking back and forth, hitting his shoulders against the wall. “Not now, not yet, not like this, please, oh, please, not like this.”
“Come, please. She’s going to be okay. Come. Sit.” Cole felt the little Filipino nurse’s hand take his and guide him into Ellie’s room to a chair. “You rest here. Keep praying. God listens.”
“How long will this take?”
“I’m not sure. They are very good at their job. Doctor Ewing is the best, you’ll see.” The little woman smiled down at Cole.
“She was doing so well. I can’t believe this,” Cole said aloud but to himself.
“You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just was a little...you know, overcome, I guess.”
“It’s okay to pray, nothing to be ashamed of.”
“She’s all I’ve got, ya know. It’s not time. I’ve got some things to say yet.”
“You got God, too.” The nurse reached up, unclasped a thin gold chain from her neck, and handed it to Cole.
He looked at the medal she had placed in his hand.
“Saint John of God, he’s the patron saint of nurses and the sick. You pray, he’ll hear you. My father gave it to me when I became a nurse. It works, you see.”
Cole stood and offered his hand in thanks to the nurse. “I’m Cole Sage. Ellie isn’t my wife, but she should have been. Thank you. I think I’ll go get a cup of coffee or something.”
“Good idea. You’ll feel better.”
Cole left the room and, as he made his way down the hall, he slipped the chain and medal into his pocket. He didn’t believe in saints but it made him feel better to know the little nurse did.
The cafeteria was crowded and noisy. Cole got his coffee to go and went out through the side door. The aches and pain he’d thought had gone were back. His neck ached, and his eye felt more swollen. He remembered the pills on the seat of the car the doctor had given him. He didn’t like pills much but, this once, they might be what he needed.
Cole slipped into the car, opened the white pharmacy bag, took two of the small pink pills and washed them down with the bitter coffee. He put the key in the ignition and turned on the radio. He thought of Ellie contorting and fighting for air. Once again, he breathed a prayer and sipped his coffee. His eye felt scratchy and out of focus. He finished his coffee, leaned his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.