I knew I didn’t like this. How I knew, I couldn’t be sure. I had no thoughts. At least, I didn’t think I had any thoughts. But if I didn’t have them, then how was I thinking? It confused me. But being confused required thought, and that just sent me into a deepening spiral. I stopped trying to think.
At least the voice was gone.
I realized I was breathing and chose to concentrate on that instead.
Breathe in…
Breathe out…
Breathe in…
Breathe…
Now I was feeling heavy again. The troublesome dullness rolled through me like a sudden crashing wave and then ebbed slowly on a receding tide. In its wake it left only pain.
I tensed in a reflexive answer to this new sensation. There was something both familiar and alien about it. As my muscles involuntarily tightened, my hands clenched, and I felt that something was clasped in my right palm.
A rampant thought escaped the cotton and dripped into being.
Felicity?
I was holding her hand, wasn’t I?
We were… somewhere…
I couldn’t remember where…
I squeezed and waited for her to squeeze back. The acknowledgement coursed along sluggish nerves, reaching dead ends before turning around and re-tracing the way back out. Eventually, the weakened signal reached what now passed for my brain, but the information it gave was completely unfamiliar.
I squeezed tightly once again, hoping for a different message. My hope was rewarded, but not in the way I had wanted.
A soft buzz drifted into my ears.
A click followed.
My hand relaxed of its own accord.
The pain was no longer.
The uncomfortable dullness gave way to a pleasant lack of any sensation whatsoever.
The darkness grew darker.
Then everything became nothing.
Monday, April 24
7:17 P.M.
University Hospital Northeast
ICU Saint Louis, Missouri
CHAPTER 25
“Row?” A gruff but unmistakably familiar voice echoed in my ears. “Rowan… Come on, Row, wake up.”
I wasn’t at all clear on what had transpired. Anything involving memories seemed to be staying just out of reach, although for some reason I knew who was speaking to me.
I tried to concentrate.
Something had to be in there somewhere. I vaguely remembered my head being stuffed with cotton. However, that’s not how it was feeling right now. At the moment it felt as if someone had replaced the cotton with dark, viscous mud. I couldn’t say that I liked this sensation any better than the previous; however, there did at least seem to be a little more feedback from the rest of my body making it through. Not that all of said feedback was particularly pleasant, mind you.
I could tell that I was lying on my back, or at least that’s how it felt. For all I knew, my equilibrium was shot and I was hanging upside down. But, if I could believe the pressure against my spine, I was definitely laying on it. Of course, I wasn’t sure that it really mattered. Rather than wrack my lethargic brain over trying to figure it out, I just decided to rely on first impressions and leave it at that.
As my body continued to file updated status reports-none of which were good-it came to my attention that my neck and shoulders were throbbing with a dull ache. The pain itself wasn’t exactly excruciating, but it made me uncomfortable enough that I desperately wanted to move in order to relieve some of the pressure. I gave in to the desire and tried to shift into a more comfortable position. Unfortunately, the moment I began to tense the necessary muscles to affect the motion, a sharp pain arced through my upper abdomen and then into my chest. In response, I drew in a quick breath, which only served to send a second lance of pain to skewer along behind the first. I held the breath and then let it out slowly as I tried to force myself to relax.
“C’mon, Kemosabe. Wake up…” the voice said again.
After what seemed like an eternity, I carefully opened one eye and saw a face hovering a few feet in front of mine while staring down at me. The image was fuzzy, so I couldn’t fully make out his expression, but I definitely recognized the countenance as belonging to Ben.
I groaned, “Am I dead?”
My throat was still sore, and now it was dry too, so the three words hurt like hell on the way out of my mouth.
“Yeah, you’re dead, and I’m a fuckin’ angel,” he replied.
A woman’s voice instantly admonished, “Detective! He’s still dealing with the effects of the anesthesia. You shouldn’t make jokes like that.”
“Trust me,” Ben said, glancing off in the direction of her voice. “Anesthesia or no, I’m the last S.O.B. he’d ask for confirmation if ‘e really thought ‘e was dead. He’d just know…” He looked back at me and added, “Right, white man?”
“Fuck you,” I muttered. That pair of words hurt too, but they were worth it.
His face disappeared from my view, and I heard him announce, “Yeah, he’s gonna be just fine.”
I closed my eye and tried to remember, but the mud still caked my brain. I knew there was something just below its surface. Something important. If only I could seize onto what it was.
I felt fingers pressing against the side of my wrist, and the woman’s voice came again, this time apparently directed at me. “Mister Gant, do you remember that you’re in the hospital?”
“Do now…” I moaned. “Why?”
“You just had surgery, but you’re doing fine. Are you in any pain?”
“Yeah,” I croaked.
A moment later I felt a coolness encroach upon me as a blanket was pulled back. Something snaked against me with a tickle. I felt my arm being lifted slightly, and then it was lowered once again. The blanket slipped back over me, and the coolness was replaced by warmth. I felt pressure against my palm, and then a hand closed my fingers around a small cylinder.
“This is your morphine pump,” the woman told me. “You must have dropped it. Just press the button if the pain gets to be too much.”
I remembered, at some point I had squeezed my hand and then passed out. I don’t know when it happened, but it seemed recent. Now I guess I knew why. On the heels of the memory, another more vivid recollection pushed through the mire of my confused brain.
“Felicity…” I groaned.
As disjointed thoughts of my wife flashed through my head, I felt my heart begin to race. A wave of panic rushed over me. I opened my eyes and began trying to push myself upward.
Razor sharp agony ripped through me, just below my ribcage. I yelped and felt the pain ramp up for a second round.
“Try not to move just yet, Mister Gant,” the woman ordered.
“Listen to her, Row…” Ben told me, concern threading through his words.
I ignored both of them, and the pain as well. Even as it twisted deep inside me, ripping the breath from my lungs, I struggled to pull myself upright.
The nurse pressed gently against my shoulder and I fell back, gritting my teeth. “Just press the button, Mister Gant. It will help.”
“Fel…” I tried to say my wife’s name again, but the pain caused it to catch in my throat, unfinished.
Ben came back into view as he reached across me. I felt a large hand slip around mine and then squeeze, pushing down against my thumb. I heard a soft buzz then a click, and numbness began to spread through my body
“Detective,” the woman admonished. “You can’t do that.”
Ben replied, flat sarcasm in his voice, “Yeah, well it was an accident. Whoops.”
“Felicity… Feliss…city…” I whispered.
“Don’t worry, white man…” Ben’s voice said, but there was something about his tone that just didn’t sound right.
Darkness slipped over me once again.
Tuesday, April 25
2:03 A.M.
University Hospital Northeast
ICU Saint Louis, Missouri