Chapter Five
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Beep… Beep…Beep… What is that? Why is everything so dark?
“Hello? Is anyone there?” I ask with a scratchy dry voice.
“Lily? Oh thank God!” someone says.
“Who is that? Where are you? Why is it so dark?” I don’t hear anything except the annoying beeping sound. A warm hand cups my chin and a tear hits my cheek. “Brad? Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Where am I?”
Another tear falls onto my cheek as he says, “In the hospital.”
“Why? What happened?”
“You were in a car accident just before you time traveled.”
“Oh no! Why can’t I see anything?”
“I don’t know. You were shot in the arm. The paramedics couldn’t do anything but wrap it. The surgeon couldn’t remove the bullet. It was almost like you had a protective force coating your skin.”
I try to swallow, but can’t, “How long have I been here?”
“Four years.”
“Four years? No!”
He says in a calm voice rubbing my cheek with his thumb, “You were in a coma. Let me go get a doctor, so they can have a look at your arm.”
I catch his wrist as he pulls away. What am I thinking? I don’t want him to see me cry. I let go. “Tell the doctor to go ahead and cut it out. I can take it.”
“I can’t take it,” he yells angrily.
I’m confused, “What are you talking about?”
“I just got you back! I’ve been by your side everyday for four years helpless. Watching and waiting for you to open your eyes and be okay.” With a more gentle voice he says, “I can’t sit here and see you hurt any longer.”
“Okay,” I say turning my head towards his voice.
I hear him walk away. When his footsteps fade I start to cry. Blind how can I be blind? What will I do if I time travel? I try sitting up and bending my legs. That’s when I notice something in my hand. It feels smooth and cool to the touch. Is it a stone? All my muscles feel stiff and sore. I rest my chin on my knees, rub the stone with my fingers, and let the tears poor down my face. Even though I hear footsteps, I can’t stop.
“Hello, I am Dr. Kota,” he says sounding friendly. “We should probably call your mother,” he suggests.
I nod not really feeling up to talking.
“Do you want me to call her?” the doctor asks.
I nod again.
“I’ll give you the number,” Brad says.
Sitting here it is easy to tune out Brad and Dr. Kota. All I can think about is the past four years…the years I missed out on because I was in a coma. What about school? What about Brad and me? How has my mom handled being so alone for so long? If try to direct my thoughts elsewhere and study the stone with my hands. I’m starting to notice it isn’t completely smooth. There is something etched into its surface. After a while I feel someone sit down beside me and take my hand. I can tell it is Brad’s. Thankfully he stays silent, letting me take all of this in.
Suddenly I hear someone run into my room. They sit on the other side of my bed and pull me into a hug.
“Oh sweetheart, you’re awake! I can’t believe this! It has been so long…” my mother says crying and stumbling through her words.
I hug her back letting go of Brad’s hand. When she pulls back and stands up Brad stands too.
“I’ll give you two a moment. I’ll be just outside if you need me Lily,” he says.
I nod and hear the door close behind him.
“They called me at work and I was so shocked it took me a moment to process what happened. I came here as soon as I could. I’m so happy to see you awake honey,” Mom says.
I turn to where I think my mother is standing and say, “Mom, there is something I need to tell you.”
I feel my bed compress at my side. My mother strokes my face and says, “What is it dear?”
I’m not sure how she will take the news of my blindness, so I hesitate.
“Go on dear, tell me. What’s wrong? Nothing could be worse than what we’ve been through for the last four years.”
I cover my face with my hands, still holding onto the stone for comfort, and breathe in a deep breath. “I can’t see Mom. I’m blind.”
Several minuets go by in silence. The bed decompresses and footsteps move across the room towards the door. A breeze of hospital sterilized floors pass by my nose and then the door closes.
“Mom?” I say, not sure if she is still in the room. But no one answers.
Brad enters my room and gently takes my hand. “I’m sorry about your mom. She is overwhelmed with everything. She has been working two jobs in order to pay your medical bills and has barely slept or ate since your accident.”
I change the subject not wanting to talk about that for the moment. “Brand, what is this in my hand? It feels like a stone.”
“It is a stone. Do you remember the mission we went on together? The one where we stopped the kidnappers?”
I nod.
“I found that when Alfred took me into the shed. It is a time stone. I took it with me to give to you. Since you are a time manipulator I thought you might enjoy the history of time stones. When we got back I didn’t get the chance to give it to you yet. So I had my friend Dante engrave a lily on it for you. Kind of like your on stone signature.”
I smile slightly, “Thank you Brad. That was really sweet of you. What is a time stone exactly?”
“The time stone is guessed to have originated in Scotland. There was a clan rumored to have the power to manipulate time and they would engrave the symbol of their clan on stones as a symbol of their power. When a child of the clan performed a successful venture they would get a special symbol of their own engraved on the other side of their time stone. There was barely a symbol left of the Graham Clan but Dante touched it up. We aren’t sure which family it is but we are fairly certain of the clan. I thought the Lily was only fitting for you.”
“Thank you Brad. I love it.” I silently feel the engravings on both sides finally able to feel the image of the lily and a falcon on the other. Then I remember Mom, “I can’t let Mom keep going on like this. I need to get back to work.” I start to throw the blankets off of my legs to get dressed when Brad stops me.
“Don’t! Don’t move out of that bed!” He pushes me back against the pillow and pulls the covers up over my legs. “Just accept the fact you can’t do everything for yourself right now. Lily I love you and you need to let your mom, this doctor and I help you!”
“Get out.” I say so quietly he can hardily hear me.
“What?”
“I said get out,” I say needing a moment to myself.
“Alright,” he says with a loving voice.
When I hear the door shut behind him I let myself cry. Why is this happening to me? I feel so alone. I want to be normal again. Ha, who am I kidding? I have never been normal. Oh, but what I would give to have my eyesight back.
The sound of expensive shoes hitting the hard tile floor echoes around my room. The doctor sits down on the chair next to me and pats my shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” he says. “The bullet has been lodged into your arm for so long, I don’t think we could remove it without possibly causing paralysis. There’s a big risk to take it out, but if we don’t, you could die from infection.
I wipe my tears, “Dr. Kota, let’s start it now. I want drugs, I don’t want to feel any of it.”
“Alright. I’ll get you a wheelchair.”
I just nod and do whatever he tells me to do, as the tears still slowly glide down my cheeks. I need to be strong.
A day later I am in the recovery room. Hearing a TV and wishing I could see it. I reach my sore arm and rub it lightly. I am so afraid I will be paralyzed and afraid to move it. I try moving my fingers first. I can’t tell if they are moving because I can’t see. I reach
to where my hand is and find it ice-cold to the touch.
“Move fingers!” I shout. Nothing happens. My ice-cold fingers aren’t moving. Again I let the tears flow, feeling sorry for myself. Just then I hear little kids outside my room laughing, and playing with the other kids that are in recovery. I miss being a kid and carefree. Thinking the world is good and kind. The door to my room shuts suddenly and I can barely hear the laughter.
“Hi Eileen, I’m the nurse on duty and need to check your stiches,” she proceeds to lift the gauze from my arm with precision.
I can tell she has been doing this for a very long time. She hits the trashcan with her foot, which startles me a bit.
“Okay Eileen. We are all done for today. If you need anything, just hit the nurse button,” she says more chipper on her way out.
I nod. I don’t understand how people can be so happy, while I’m laying here blind and have no feeling in my arm. How will I get through this?
The next day, after a sleepless night, I have a nurse help me to the courtyard so I can feel the sun on my face. As I’m enjoying the warmth on my eyes a lightweight object strikes my knee. I catch it with my good hand and inspect the object. It’s Styrofoam with wings. It’s a plane.
Quickly as it arrived, it’s snatched away. A boy’s voice says, “Sorry for hitting you with my plane,” he waits for my response.
“No problem. How old are you?” I ask him.
“Nine,” he says with confidence.
I remember being nine and feeling so unsure about myself. I’m sure the time travel helped with those insecurities.
“Would you like to hear a story?” I say with excitement. Children have always made me feel energized and alive with their immediate acceptance.
“Sure,” he says plopping himself down on the pavers.
I adjust myself in my chair and pretend to have a serious look on my face. “Well, here it goes,” I begin. “There is this girl who has a special gift. Her name is Claire. She can travel through time. One day, she materialized into Area 57.”
“Area 57?” the boy asks.
“Yes 57, Area 51 is no more. Anyway she was only nineteen and she could kick some serious butt. A soldier shot her while she was there and even though he tried to kill her she fell in love with him. She didn’t want him to know though. You can’t just tell someone you love them, if you are going to end up leaving them anyway. She finds out that Area 57 is holding her until the FBI arrives to get her. Not wanting to wait around for that, she escapes through the ventilation system. To exit the building, she must jump to the ground below her. The landing causes her to jar her legs so bad she can hardily walk. Continuing to move quickly, she crawls her way to the gate. As she tries to grab the fence and pull herself through the gate, an electric shock hits her whole body. Trying to ignore the jolt, she keeps going, because Claire never gives up. Claire gets herself through the gate and thinks she is free. But the soldier she loves goes through the gate, lifts her into his arms and takes her back into enemy territory.”
“Why? That is such a horrible ending,” another little boy says.
“You seem to have an audience,” a nurse says.
While I thought I was only telling my story to the nine-year-old boy, a small group of children joined him on the ground to listen.
“Oh goodness, an audience,” I smile. “Hello everyone,” I say with a little more joy in my voice than I had earlier. “Let me finish my story. The soldier helps her form a contract with the FBI, so that she can be free while still working for them. She goes on many missions back into time to solve mysteries and once she even stopped a kidnapping. The soldier she fell in love with helped her on that mission. Then he fell in love with her too. They were the perfect match. But just when they were going to be together forever she is in a plane crash on a mission in Brazil.”
“Did she live?” a little girl asks with a teary voice.
I wait a few seconds. I hear some of the kids whimper their sadness. “Yes she lives.”
All the little kids clap and say their hip-hip-hooray’s.
The first little boy who spoke asks, “What happens next?”
“Well the soldier pulls her from the crash. He takes her to the doctor and when she is all better he takes her to a garden with lots and lots of fire lilies and sets out a picnic lunch for her. After they are done eating they go on a long walk to the river and watch the birds fly around the treetops. The sky has a few clouds and the sun is peeking behind the horizon. As the sun is setting, the sky casts the shades of a rainbow on the water’s surface. The soldier gets down on one knee and asks her one question.”
“What does he ask her?” all the little kids plead at different times.
When they settle down I say, “He asks her the question that is the most wonderful question in the world. It only has four words. He asked, ‘Will you marry me?’”
“What did Claire say?” They chimed in with excitement.
“She said, yes,” I say with a sad tone I can’t seem to hide. I feel the tears come down my face. I call out to the nurse and she comes to my side. “I’m ready to go inside now,” I tell her.
The cool air-conditioned room feels so good to my arm, reducing the pain a little. I enjoy the silence of the room for a little while that is only interrupted by the steady beeping sound of the vital machines.
Not long after Dr. Kota enters my room and clears his throat, “Well, looks like you had quite the fan club out there.”
“I really love children and the way they listen to my stories. They don’t analysis it like adults do. They just accept it and move on to the next thing,” I recline my head on my pillow with exhaustion.
“You need to rest. Call if you need me. You are healing better than I expected,” he says.
“But, Doc,” I say lowering my head to my bad arm, “I can’t feel my arm, other than pain at times. Is the pain a good sign or a bad one?”
The doctor stands at the side of me, examining my arm. “Try moving your fingers,” he says with concern.
I concentrate on my first finger. Move darn it! Move!
The doctor sees my frustration on my face and says, “Let’s have you rest a while and try it again once you’ve woken up. You’re tired. You will have more energy after your nap.”
“Thank you,” I say as I hear him start to walk out of the room. “Really, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I know it’s hard for you being blind. My wife was. She had a really hard time when she lost her sight from a high fever. I was there for her every minute of it. I taught her how to read Braille, how to find her way around the house, and how to cope with it.
I wonder how she felt about being blind, “What happened to her?”
“She was stabbed on her way to a check up. This guy wanted her purse. It was the one time I didn’t walk with her because I had classes that day.”
“I am so sorry…”
“No, it’s fine. It is good to talk about it. I know it wasn’t my fault. I am just glad she had a little freedom before it happened. She always had an escort everywhere.”
Will I have to be like that? I try to picture her in my head, “I bet she was beautiful.”
“She was,” he says bitter sweetly.
“Thank you for sharing doctor.” I yawn thinking about a woman walking for the first time by herself. Not seeing in a usual sense but feeling, tasting and smelling the scenery, all with a smile on her face. “I hope I’m as courageous as she,” I say as I start to drift off to sleep.