CHAPTER FIVE
The drive home was miserable, at least for me. I became the opposite of mother temperamentally. In her case, the outcome of the medicals wasn't as mind wrecking as she earlier wined. Mother had no tumour or lump, but she must continue a monthly self-breast examination in order to detect any unusual thing that could develop to a lump as she has a physiology that could favour fast growth of lumps. So even though the few hours she spent in object worry have drained her down, she was relieved and happy. But in my case, hell was let loose.
The bloody, unconscious people I saw been trouped into the A&E Unit were all forgotten but one: Pamela Graham. And worse of all, she was brought to the hospital from Roath Park, a place I was with her just a few hours ago.
"Are you ok, son?" I remembered mother asking me that question, I couldn't recall the answer I gave her exactly, but I know whatever response I gave at that moment wasn't satisfactory.
My mind was torn apart into pieces that I it became hard to put together. What happened to Pam was a question that instantly surfaced a lot of theories which displayed some unreliable assumptions before me. And whatever might have happened to her definitely wasn't a small thing.
I caught mother turning to stare at me several times, but I didn't stare back. I just faced my front; and at the horrible images of Pam's limp body being pushed on a gurney.
Phil; it must be Phil. Well, I don't have proof; and besides, even though he's a hero in trouble making, he never physically hurt girls- at least I never heard of such a case attributed to him. But the way he spoke to me on the phone was questionable. He sounded threatening, hard and wicked with regards to his intention to go searching for her at the Park. And knowing the fact that Phil is not as patient as I am, a slight provocation could easily lead him to violence.
I was burning when we got home and completely burnt when I impatiently listened to the dull ringing of Phil's phone through the earpiece.
"Yes?"
"What did you do?" I barked.
"What did I do what?"
"Answer me Phil, what did you do to her, to Pam."
"Pam? What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about. Pam is in the hospital, unconscious Phil, and you..."
"Unconscious? What happened to her?"
"You tell me."
"What..." There was a brief pause. "So you think I did it right? Oh God, you are so unbelievable."
"Did you do it?"
"No I didn't, but right now Brad, I wish I did." I felt anger growing in his voice. "This mad girl insulted you, tore and burnt your sketch all for no reason and you sit your nerdy ass doing nothing to get even. Now, she probably has done it again to someone smarter than you who couldn't take it, so he took it right back at her. And what did you do? Put it on me. You are really unbelievable." I heard a short angry exhale followed by a click.
"Phil... Hello... Phil!" Ok, that went well.
I turned and almost jumped when I saw mother standing there, looking at me with a straight face.
"Bloody hell, you scared me."
"What is going on Bradley?" She demanded. I wanted to tell her it's nothing serious but she gave me the hand. "You listen to me; I spent a sleepless night dreaming of Mastectomy or some horrible surgical procedure on my breast; I spent the day tormented by thoughts of the worse possible outcome of my medicals that could possibly make those nightmares come through. And just when I get the little piece of relief, you started behaving strange again; Bradley you are about to get me steeped once again into that situation and I won't let that happen." She paused. "I am your mother, and I deserve to know your worries at least so we could work some of them out."
Well, that was not the first time ever did mother addressed me with such a commanding tone, but it's the first in a long time. However, my state of mind didn't see that. It didn't see the sense in what she's trying to point, neither did it calm to feel any sympathy for the state she'll be immersed into if I don't do what she demanded.
"I can't." I shook my head and walked to the door. "I just can't." I ran out of the room and out of the house. Mother called my name but I paid no heed. I just wanted out. I ran off.
Outside was cold but I was sweating. It was a moment when my thinking faculty kind of froze, both technically and otherwise. I stood in the middle of the street panting in frustration. I felt the earth spinning; maybe I was the one spinning not the earth. At one point of the spin, I saw blood smeared faces, limp bodies, heard stealthy sounds of helicopters, ambulance sirens, people screaming and still, the spinning continued. I felt dizzy, I felt light, breathless and felt like throwing off.
I leaned on a street light pole for support and closed my eyes, still panting. My stomach churned badly and within seconds, I felt the churn coming up into my chest, stimulating my salivary glands. I knew it was over now. I staggered to a lawn just by the sidewalk and threw off. Then I waited, for a while.
"Are you alright?"
I looked up and saw two little girls looking at me; their faces contorted with disgust.
"Yes I'm fine.” I said "I'm fine."
"You need to go to the hospital. You are not well." Said the bigger one
"No, I don't need a hospital. I'm fine. Thank you."
The other girl, a blond didn't say a thing. She just stared at me while the older one talked.
"Julia; what are you girls doing there?" A middle aged woman popped out of a nearby house. She saw the girls standing by me and hurried to get them. "Julia, what did I always say about talking to strangers?"
"Mom, he is not well; he's vomiting."
The lady grabbed their hands and told them to get inside, before asking if I was ok. I told her I was. She said okay and followed the girls.
I straightened, held the pole for support again and looked at the lady leading her kids home. And just before she got them in, the blond kid turned and looked at me. I looked back and for a moment, though she looked familiar. The other girl turned to take one final look at me, she waived. I waived back, but my attention was on the blond one. And suddenly, like a revelation, I heard the girl's little voice telling me to go to the hospital. The blond waved again. I thought of Pam in the hospital, and I think, that was the moment I started thinking clearly. "I must go now," I said aloud. "To the hospital."
My head was still heavy when I stepped out of the taxi. I felt better though; a lot better than when I got in. The cab driver noticed how emaciated I was when I sat on the passenger's seat and told him our destination. He asked if I were ok. I told him I was fine. When he dropped me, he wished me well and drove off again.
I went in. It’s been about an hour and a half since I was there. I had a good feeling that Pam won't still be in the Accident and Emergency Unit. My suspicion was confirmed when I got there and asked.
A gray haired matron told me the girl I was asking about, a Pamela Graham, has been moved. She looked at a chart and told me where to go. I thanked her and left.
In the elevator, I waited impatiently for the slow counting numbers to take a pause at the floor number I was going and allow the metal doors to slide open. I wasn't alone in the lift but I guessed no one cared for my anxiety or predicament; everyone has his or her own problem. And being the last place all healthy individuals would want to be, made it all easy for me not to stress myself thinking about any empathy. I stood there, among strangers, looking up at the numbers changing progressively, but slowly. Immediately the numbers paused, I remembered pushing through to the door before it opened.
Excuse me, sorry, sorry, excuse me, thanks.
I was given weird glances but I didn't mind.
I was the only person that got out on that floor. I stepped into another hall where people walked up and down like it was some kind of train station, but quieter. A grim-faced doctor walked past me, followed by a swarm of doctors tailing behind him. They were interns, obviously. I stood looking at them as they passed, my mind static, because it was at that moment that it downed on me I had
not thought out what I would do if I walk into Pam's room.
Would she be glad to see me, or mad? What would I tell her if she lays there looking at me; the stranger she loved to hate and still had a grudge with?
Bloody hell. I never felt that stupid before.
While I stood there suffering in my predicament, I heard the elevator bell rang behind me. I had no idea I was standing directly before the doors as I haven't moved from there when I stepped out of it.
"Excuse me." Said a voice behind me.
"Sorry." I said. I turned around and there was a tall man there. He nodded and walked hurriedly to the left. Nothing looked unusual until when he got to a counter three metres ahead and spoke to the lady standing.
"I'm Jeremy Graham, my daughter has been brought here about an hour ago." I heard him say. At that moment, I thought, my situation just got a lot worse. I didn't hear exactly what the lady told him, but he nodded, went forth and in smooth long strides, disappeared through a left turning.
I followed him, but immediately I took the turning, he was nowhere to be found. He must have entered one of the rooms. But which one?
I walked slowly, looking from left to right at doors and windows to see if I would be lucky. Fear crawling inside me.
Somewhere along the corridor, Mr Graham bolted out followed by a lady, I stopped. They moved away from the door and began arguing. The lady, who by now I suppose was Mrs Graham, was telling him he loves his job more than the family; his daughter was hospitalized but it took him more than an hour to be there. He defended himself with some reasons which obviously weren't enough for Mrs Graham.
Mrs Graham, I observed, forgot to shut the door when she came out. Having seen that, I did the boldest thing I've ever done in my life: I walked to the door and got in.
Well, I must admit that, at that moment, fear had left my chest but hovered thick in my throat. I could feel my neck pulsating hard that I had to open my mouth to gulp some air.
I stood looking at Pam, lying on the bed. She weakly turned her head towards me. Though she was obviously very weak, I noticed the shock on her face; I knew she would think of me as the last person to be by her hospital bed. She raised her hand gently, about to speak to me and I hurried to the bed, held the hand and gently put it back to her side.
"No Pam, don’t move." She moved again in protest. "I said don't move, please. You are weak, you need to relax. Please." I was looking at her eyes at that moment, holding her hand at the same time. To my relief, she calmed but still wearing a distrustful stare.
"Good. Thank you." I said, panting. "How are you feeling?" She said nothing. "You don't have to speak. Just relax, you'll be alright. You'll be f..."
I stopped when the Grahams stepped into the room and stood there looking unbelievably at me holding their daughter's arm.
"And who are you." Asked Mrs Graham.
"Brad." Still holding Pam's arm.
"Brad who." Demanded Mr Graham.
"What are you doing here?" Mrs Graham added.
"Look, Pam is a.."
"Pam is not well; and she's not ready for visitation yet." Mrs Graham said the words carelessly. "I want you to leave. Release my daughter's arm on your way out."
I was dumb founded. I looked at Pam and she looked back indifferently. I didn't want to look at her parent's faces again as they were all looking unpleasant. I walked out gently, drenched in embarrassment. I got back to the elevator, waited for it to open, got in and hit the ground floor button.