The nurse left a cup of soup on my tray and left like it was the most average thing in the world. I hadn’t eaten or drank in days because my liver couldn’t take it, choking on anything I tried to feed it and causing me intense pain. Now, a simple soup. I reached out to it and tried to lift it to my mouth but it was barely an inch above the tray before it clattered back out of my hands. Peter got out of bed and shuffled over to me.
“Here” He held my hands against the mug firmly and guided it to my dry sore lips. I watched his mouth tense with concentration, trying not to spill it anywhere. He parted his lips, mimicking drinking like you would with a child. I drank deeply, finishing the whole cup. He helped me lower it and then wiped my mouth on a napkin.
“There, is that better?” I nodded.
“I’m sorry.” I said.
“For what? The way you are recovering, it’s nothing short of a miracle. Is this common with your Sojo-mojo syndrome?” I smiled at his pet name for my murderous disease.
“Not really.” He went quiet and thoughtful, peeking at me through his fringe.
“Does it hurt?” I paused and then nodded. There was something strange about this man, he filled me with hope and healing even though I knew nothing about him.
“Who are you?” I asked, trying not to sound rude or intruding, just curious. It didn’t quite work with the deep gasp of my voice but he smiled, which was a good sign.
“What a thing to ask.” He leant back on his bed and pinched his lips in thought. “I’m a man who enjoys taking photos of trees and their shadows. I love the way they can sometimes look like clouds, like lollipops or sometimes like animals. Then you get trees in winter when they look naked and mean. Winter trees seem to sprawl out even more when you want them to curl into themselves and shiver. I love how their shadows can look completely different to the tree itself, almost an opposite.” He smiled to himself and closed his eyes. “My favourite tree is one that stands alone in a golden field of corn. Because of all the crop around it, its shadow quivers constantly... like it’s afraid of being so alone.” He hadn’t spoke so much since I’d come into the room and he captivated me with his passion.
“Photographer?” I asked, enquiring as to if that was his career. He chuckled to himself.
“I wish. Just a fanatic, really. I work in an office most of the time. High flyer executive man.” He grasped his fake lapels and primped himself
“What about you? Oh let me guess... You’re a model! You are a... masseuse. Am I right?” He winked cheekily and I blushed deeply.
“No job.” I whispered, looking at my folded hands. He tilted his head to the side quizzically.
“Too sick.” His mouth popped open with a gentle ‘aah’ as he understood, I had a life sentence. We sat for a while in a semi-awkward silence.
“Family?” I asked, genuinely curious to see if he was married or not. I hadn’t seen any wife visit but you never know with people nowadays. My parents had visited often, bringing a random aunt or uncle with them ‘just to see’. I really knew that they were giving people a chance to say goodbye without overwhelming me with them all at once, still I appreciated they were trying to be subtle. Peter considered his answer for a moment.
“Well, I was married.”
“Was?”
“Yeah, that didn’t really last too long.” The laughter left his eyes for a moment and I decided not to pry, hospitals were depressing enough without having to delve into your black past.
“Here” He held my hands against the mug firmly and guided it to my dry sore lips. I watched his mouth tense with concentration, trying not to spill it anywhere. He parted his lips, mimicking drinking like you would with a child. I drank deeply, finishing the whole cup. He helped me lower it and then wiped my mouth on a napkin.
“There, is that better?” I nodded.
“I’m sorry.” I said.
“For what? The way you are recovering, it’s nothing short of a miracle. Is this common with your Sojo-mojo syndrome?” I smiled at his pet name for my murderous disease.
“Not really.” He went quiet and thoughtful, peeking at me through his fringe.
“Does it hurt?” I paused and then nodded. There was something strange about this man, he filled me with hope and healing even though I knew nothing about him.
“Who are you?” I asked, trying not to sound rude or intruding, just curious. It didn’t quite work with the deep gasp of my voice but he smiled, which was a good sign.
“What a thing to ask.” He leant back on his bed and pinched his lips in thought. “I’m a man who enjoys taking photos of trees and their shadows. I love the way they can sometimes look like clouds, like lollipops or sometimes like animals. Then you get trees in winter when they look naked and mean. Winter trees seem to sprawl out even more when you want them to curl into themselves and shiver. I love how their shadows can look completely different to the tree itself, almost an opposite.” He smiled to himself and closed his eyes. “My favourite tree is one that stands alone in a golden field of corn. Because of all the crop around it, its shadow quivers constantly... like it’s afraid of being so alone.” He hadn’t spoke so much since I’d come into the room and he captivated me with his passion.
“Photographer?” I asked, enquiring as to if that was his career. He chuckled to himself.
“I wish. Just a fanatic, really. I work in an office most of the time. High flyer executive man.” He grasped his fake lapels and primped himself
“What about you? Oh let me guess... You’re a model! You are a... masseuse. Am I right?” He winked cheekily and I blushed deeply.
“No job.” I whispered, looking at my folded hands. He tilted his head to the side quizzically.
“Too sick.” His mouth popped open with a gentle ‘aah’ as he understood, I had a life sentence. We sat for a while in a semi-awkward silence.
“Family?” I asked, genuinely curious to see if he was married or not. I hadn’t seen any wife visit but you never know with people nowadays. My parents had visited often, bringing a random aunt or uncle with them ‘just to see’. I really knew that they were giving people a chance to say goodbye without overwhelming me with them all at once, still I appreciated they were trying to be subtle. Peter considered his answer for a moment.
“Well, I was married.”
“Was?”
“Yeah, that didn’t really last too long.” The laughter left his eyes for a moment and I decided not to pry, hospitals were depressing enough without having to delve into your black past.
He sighed loudly and we were once again joined by a nurse. She bustled around the room with her incessant talking.
“Well, hello my two lovelies. Aren’t you two peas in a pod now? I knew that you would get to know each other quickly! The weather is simply dismal, freezing outside – you won’t believe the amount of injuries coming in because of slipping over on the ice. People need to wear sensible shoes instead of these impractical doo-dads with a heel as high as a hand and no grip whatsoever...” She continued on and Peter rolled his eyes making me laugh. Throughout the whole time she was there he made faces behind her back and imitated her wiggle as she walks and her constant chatter. I tried to contain my giggles but it just came out as snorts and hiccups, making the nurse confused and probably a little disgusted. She tugged at my wires and disabled something which looked pretty vital which stopped my giggles immediately.
“What? No!” I cried pathetically from my bed.
“Oh no don’t worry dear, Doctor’s orders you know. You’ve been showing so much improvement on your own recently we’ve decided to put faith in your body and retract some of the harsher drugs which hinder more than help. You’ll be fine deary, don’t look so frightened; you remind me of a little robin bird. Rest for now, you’ll feel so much better when you wake up.” She left the room with a cautionary warning for Peter to stick to his meal plan or he’ll kill himself. I eyed the unplugged machine warily, a few days I was dead without it and now I was independent of my robotic other half. I almost felt lonely.
“That’s good news, you shouldn’t look so sad Kerry-cake.” He smiled at me and winked as he slipped a smuggled chocolate through his teeth. I tutted at him and he stuck out a tongue that was covered in caramel. He was really beginning to grow on me.
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