A Moment in Time
The main doors opened automatically
as Julie walked into the emergency room of the Brighton General Hospital on a
busy Saturday night. Located on the
bottom floor of a concrete building in the center of a sleepy town in upstate
New York, the waiting room was an aromatic bouquet of antiseptic latex and an
audio potpourri of coughing and sneezing; crying and screaming. Fake leather couches lined the sterile room. As Julie walked towards the registration, she
noticed it was standing room only and she wondered where she would sit. It had been a long day and her hand was
killing her. Unfortunately, she knew the
wait would inevitably be long. Just a
few days earlier, she had a simple paper cut on her thumb that needed nothing
more than a Band-aide. Now, four days
later, the simple paper cut transformed into a bright red star on the tip of
her thumb and, her thumb had turned into a sausage link. Julie decided she had no other choice but to
come to the hospital, otherwise known as the black hole, in search of
antibiotics in exchange for a few hours of time.
With
dreaded trepidation, Julie approached the registration window. She chuckled at the bulletproof shield that
separated the plague from the cure, the healthy from the quarantined. She was told to have a seat and her name
would be called shortly. The fact that
the nurse did not offer an estimated wait time was not lost on Julie. Sighing
loudly and then succumbing to the black hole of hospital time, Julie sat in the
only seat available, beside a sneezing old man with an uncontrollable cough and
a tendency for clearing the very large oyster out of his throat and a sniffling
boy who found it difficult to listen to anything his mother had to say. She could not help but overhear the
conversation of two men who were sitting just beyond Oyster Man.
The
first one began with what sounded like the beginning of a joke, “So, how do you
make a fish talk?”
The
other one looked at him perplexed and replied, “Wait, I know this one, but
first I need to do a ‘shroom.”
“What?!”
exclaimed the joke teller, “You can’t do that in here man! This is a hospital. You know what I’m saying!?”
“Watch
me,” said the drugee, he got up and walked away through the mechanical
doors.
The
Joke Teller looked on, disappointed that he couldn’t finish his joke before his
drug-addict friend took off. God only
knows what they’re in the emergency room for, Julie thought to herself.
Turning
her attention to her other side, the boy sitting next to Julie said “Biscuits
are like mini cakes without frosting.”
Julie
looked down at him.
“Hmmm,
I did not know that,” she said.
Politely,
Julie was trying to ignore the splatter of rice cake pieces on the boy’s shirt
and around his seat, like they had been rockets shooting out of his mouth.
“Chew
with your mouth shut,” ordered his mother sitting on the opposite side.
Looking
at Julie she says, “I’m sorry.”
Julie
just nodded her head, held up her bum hand and said, “No worries.”
Julie
returned her focus to the nothing-ness that was the center of the room and
continued to marvel at the hospital’s ability to stop time.
The
mouth of the hospital opened again and three young women walked in chattering
endlessly, not even taking a breath.
“So
I stayed at the frat party the other night,” the first one said.
“TFTI
bitch,” said second one.
“I
know right, she didn’t invite me either,” added the third.
The
first one continued her story, “…and afterward we went to his room where I was
there with like three guys…”
They
disappeared into the hallway of the hospital that offered little help to
eavesdropping on their conversation any further.
Just
when it started to get good, Julie thought to herself. A devilish smile formed on her face in spite
of herself.
The
automatic doors opened again. This time,
Julie could see the paramedics with an occupied gurney between the two of them. The paramedics gingerly maneuvered the gurney
to not disturb the occupant who was being given oxygen through a mask. From the distance, the patient appeared to be
very old. The patient’s short gray hair
spiked over the back of the elastic band on the oxygen mask looked oily and
disheveled. The patient’s eyes were
closed and his body was covered with a white sheet, only his head and his feet
were sticking out from under the sheets.
The patient’s shoes were brown and definitely too big to be a woman’s
foot. Julie deduced the patient was a
very old man. The patient’s eyes were
closed and his body was covered with a white sheet, only his head and his feet
were sticking out from under the sheets.
Julie hadn’t realized it but she was holding her breath. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw that
the man was still breathing.
“At
least he is alive,” Julie said out loud to herself.
As
the gurney rolled passed her, the old man slowly opened his eyes and turned his
head towards Julie. His warm gaze held
her eyes for a moment startling Julie.
The man lifted one frail hand and tried to reach out to her with a
closed fist.
The
head paramedic said, “I need you to remain still Mr. Smith.”
The
man continued to raise his hand towards Julie but he was just too weak, he let
it fall to the stretcher bed. His hand
opened at the moment it hit the bed. A
photograph fell to the floor. Without
noticing that something fell, the paramedics started moving the gurney
again. Julie quickly reached down and
picked up an old photograph of a young woman in a military uniform. The photograph appeared to be quite old. It was a portrait of a beautiful woman in
full Army uniform with black hair and perfect complexion. Julie turned the picture over. On the back was written, “Nina 22 –
1938”. Julie tried to get the paramedics
attention but they had disappeared into the hallway out of earshot.
Forgetting
about her thumb and the pain she was in, Julie stared at the picture.
She
ran her fingers along the woman’s hair, over the arch of her cheek toward her
chin, and whispered her name “Nina.”
Julie
would wait until the paramedics came out to find out where they had taken the
old man so she could return the picture to him.
She
silently repeated the name in her head, “Nina.”
With an
unnaturally strong grip on the photo, Julie drifted off to sleep…
Julie woke to the smell of dirt and smoke. Panicking, she quickly scanned the area for
potential danger expecting to see the room in an anxiety driven fright. What she found was not a room at all, rather Julie
found herself in an open field resembling a vineyard which happened to be smack
in the middle of a war zone. There were
military personnel running scared all around her. Grenades exploding, sounds of gun shots piercing
the air, and bodies falling in layers across the battlefield. Julie walked a
few paces forward and momentarily lost her balance almost tripping over
something on the ground. When she looked
down, she saw a wounded female soldier.
Her injuries appeared grave yet, the soldier looked up at Julie with an
empty gaze. At first Julie thought she was
dead, but then the soldier blinked her eyes.
Frozen, Julie looked around at the pandemonium of the formerly peaceful
meadow searching for someone that could help the struggling woman.
Everyone was running and shouting, no-one could hear
Julie’s pleas for help. She looked down
at the soldier again. This time the
soldier looked directly into Julie’s eyes.
She was moving her lips and struggling to breathe. Julie knelt down and placed her right ear
close to the soldier's mouth so she could hear her whispers.
"Tell him…that…I love…him…always have…," the
soldier whispered.
Before she could get out another word, the woman's head
fell slightly to the left. Julie knew
that she was gone. Julie smoothed the
woman's hair from her face and gasped as she stared straight into the eyes of
the photograph.
"Smith?” summoned the attending nurse.
Startled and shaken, Julie wiped the tears from her face
and replied, "Uh…right here.”
"It's your turn to be seen,” said the nurse.
Julie got up from her seat and walked towards the nurse.