September Twelfth
George A. Larkins
The corridor stretched endlessly as he made his way along it. Moving slowly, he followed the color coded signs that pointed all but the most confused towards their intended destinations. His was the hospital cafeteria. It had been twelve hours since he had eaten, still there was no desire for a meal, his mind and his stomach seemed disconnected. Perhaps it was the thought of comfort that food brought or the need to surround himself with other human beings. The people passing by him had expressed worried looks of contemplation and an occasional brave smile. They drifted past as he made his way, like ghosts from a dream.
The sign’s pointed to the beginning of the cafeteria line and he followed it’s direction, he got in line. In front of him, a group of nurses quietly chattered something about plans that they had made for this weekend. They spoke of how they would need to be changed, arrangements would need to be made. The words drifted in and out of his mind as he began to feel the shudder and grasped the chrome tray rail to steady himself. He moved along and noticed the food. It was not the usual desire to satisfy hunger, but the colors, the textures and the smell of it. Reaching out he chose an orange from the fruit display, it just seemed happy somehow. Next, he drew a cup of hot coffee because it was morning and that was routine and routine was good.
He absently handed a bill of some denomination to the cashier and took the change without counting, trusting that he would not be cheated, not this day. Sitting alone at the table, he cupped the coffee in his hands and the shudder grew stronger. Not like the shudder he could feel when a cold was coming on, that external chill that warns of an oncoming fever. This shudder was deeper, it emanated from his core. The dining room took on a fish-eye lens distortion as his eye’s welled with tears. The diners eyes all were glued to the endless looping video of the towers crashing down.
In the room upstairs his wife was lying in the hospital bed. She had experienced hell over the last twenty-four hours. He had never known that she was so strong or that her body could endure so much. She had lost a lot of blood near the end and the reality that they could lose her had hit him hard. When she could take no more, they had sedated her. She was stabilized and resting, they had said he should take a break and he followed their instruction. He would return to stand vigil beside her soon, but for now, he was in limbo. His mind retraced the years they had spent together and the plans they had made for the future. The clock on the wall played tricks, one moment not moving at all and then suddenly an hour. It was time to return to her.
He entered her quite darkened room and moved towards her reaching out and stroking her forehead. She breathed softly and he sat in the chair beside her, resting his eyes but not sleeping. Five hours passed and she began to stir. She momentarily began to panic being unaware of her surroundings, then she saw him and relaxed her mind. He reached for the water beside her bed and placed the straw in her mouth, she sipped. “Are you awake?” He asked. “Yes” she replied weakly. “I have something to show you” he said as he turned away and reached down picking up the bundle. Her eye’s widened and a smile crossed her lips as he turned to place the newborn baby in her arms. The small fingers grasped her mothers hand as he looked at her and said “She is one day old today.”
George Larkins 