|
|
Post by PaperGrace on Mar 11, 2013 12:45:41 GMT -5
I started this thing in my daily writing challenge as a little blurb, and now there are 3 parts, so I'm posting it here to gather it together. Feedback is of course, always welcome, but do note that this isn't even a rough draft, its more of a discovery draft. No plan, no prep, just writing because. (I expect I'll fall in some plot holes because of that.)
|
|
|
|
Post by PaperGrace on Mar 11, 2013 12:47:38 GMT -5
There was something wrong with the picture on top of the entertainment center, but Lucy couldn't be sure what. In it, Grandmother stood smiling, a little shy, with a plaque in one arm and a bunch of roses under the other. Her floral print dress hung shapelessly over her body, childbearing curves long faded--the picture taken when she was well into her eighties. Aunt Patricia had written the poem when Gram died, and they had had it printed onto this photo--blown up to an 8X10. It was framed and displayed prominently in the homes of all of her Aunts and Uncles: Lucy saw it easily a dozen times a year. This time something had called her attention to it from across the room, as suddenly and urgently as if it had called out with words. Lucy stood up, and started to cross the room, becoming dizzy. She pressed on, lurching toward the sturdy oak console, clinging to it's edges when she reached it. She squinted hard, focusing her eyes on the picture, trying to clear the fog from her head when she realized the photo wasn't familiar to her at all. Grandmother was still there, smiling, shy. The carnations in her arm a tacky blend of pink and teal, obviously dyed. The plaque she held so proudly read: "In appreciation for 40 years community service." just as it always had, but the signature was unfamiliar, and who was 'Comm. Fitzwater, of the Citizen Defense Force'? Hadn't Gram gotten the award from her parish? As Lucy's eyes scanned Aunt Pat's poem she became even more disoriented. "Lost too soon/Your sons before you/Our country's boon/Their years too few"? Uncle Geoff and Uncle Edmond were right outside, squabbling over the barbeque grill as they always did at family reunions! Overwhelmed, Lucy's heart began to race, panic setting in. She tried to make it to her purse for her inhaler, but before she could reach it, she blacked out. |
|
|
|
Post by PaperGrace on Mar 11, 2013 12:48:59 GMT -5
"Lucy? Lucy. Babe can you hear me? Lu?" Kevin said the last so softly he almost couldn't hear it himself. He rested his forehead on the edge of the hospital cot, hands clasped behind his neck, one finger spinning his wedding band around and around. After a few minutes he jerked upright, sure that he had heard a murmur. Lucy lay still, her face pale, her breathing slow and regular. The Doctor had sedated her not long before he arrived, and she had told him that it might be a few hours before his wife came to.
A nurse opened the door slowly, peering in cautiously before he entered, a small square of gauze taped across one cheek. One eye looked swollen and was just starting to darken. Spotting Kevin he entered, respectfully nodded his head, and began to scan Lucy's chart.
"How bad is the other guy?" Kevin quipped, trying to lighten the mood.
"She's got a hell of a right hook," replied the nurse, a look of chagrin spreading across his olive features. "Of course, you probably knew that." Seeing Kevin's confused look he gestured to Lucy. "It took three of us to get her onto the gurney" he said softly.
Kevin's cheeks flushed as understanding hit. "I'm so sorry! I don't know what is going on. She's such a gentle person. She's not, I mean, she wouldn't, I mean, she couldn't have..." Helplessly, Kevin waved his arms around, struggling for words.
"Hey Man, It's ok, really" the nurse gave Kevin a firm pat on the shoulder "we'll do our best to figure out what is going on with her." The man had a sort of calm to him that Kevin hadn't run into since his Grandfather passed. Head and face cleanly shaved, the man couldn't have been more than three years older than Kevin, not quite fresh out of school, but not nearly old enough for this confidence. The man stood a head taller than Kevin, his arms thick and meaty, he fairly bulged out of his plain hospital uniform. He moved Lucy's arms carefully while he checked her monitors, as though holding a kitten. His broad clean hands were lumpy and calloused, much like Kevin's own, almost exactly like Kevin's own.
"Military?" Kevin asked.
"Who isn't these days." The nurse saluted sharply, with a hint of sarcasm. "Anderson, Patrick C. reporting for duty Sir!" His smile softened. "You can call me Rick, all my buddies do." He gave Kevin a once over, took in the rumpled dress shirt, the shiny, uncomfortable looking shoes, the way his body and slacks seemed in disagreement. "Ranger?"
"Er... yeah." Kevin's surprise was obvious. "Just last year. How did you know that?"
Rick pointed to an imaginary tab on his nurses uniform. "Me too, recycled though, so I got to hang around base for a long time before I healed up and could finish. You get to see what 'Ranger' looks like on a man with all that extra time, waiting."
"That must have been rough," Kevin said. "Most of the guys I was with that got hurt just dropped out."
Rick shrugged. "Getting hurt was the best thing that ever happened to me. Made me want to be a nurse. I'm training to be a PT right now, but my pick-up-shifts in this ward are making me question that. I might switch to Emergency Psych. Plus when I get put back on active duty I'll have my pick of Medical Battalions. E-Psych's are way more practical than Chaplains."
Kevin nodded. Rick had a point. The Army Chaplain that had counseled him in his last deployment had been a good man, a nice man, but he had the bare minimum requirement for training, relying on his daily prayer circles to convert and cure the men in his charge. Three of them had committed suicide while on deployment, and one had been so screwed up after he returned that he had nearly beaten his wife to death one night in the midst of a traumatic dream. His wife! Kevin guiltily turned back to the bed. He'd been so wrapped up in talking to Rick. What if he'd missed something? Lucy lay still, sleeping dreamlessly, just as she had been when he arrived. |
|
|
|
Post by PaperGrace on Mar 11, 2013 12:50:25 GMT -5
Lucy came out of the bathroom and slipped quietly down the hall to her room. She closed the door softly behind her and sunk down on the edge of the bed. She stared at the band of pink glass around her ring finger. It was the only thing she had found in the jewelry box that they said belonged to her that was anywhere near the same size and weight as the ring Kevin had slipped onto her finger three years ago. For the third time in as many days Lucy found herself wondering if she was imagining all of this. This must be a dream. When will I wake up?
There was a soft knock on the door.
"Lu-bear, are you up?"
Lucy flinched. Why does she call me that?
Again, the knock, just a little louder this time.
"Lu?"
"Coming!"
Lucy rose from the bed, hiding the ring in her pocket. She took a deep breath, tried her best to push her lips into a smile, and opened the door.
"Black Raspberry! Your favorite."
The woman on the other side of the door was holding a yogurt cup and a spoon. She pushed them into Lucy's hands and bustled past her into the room. She parted the curtains, raised the shade, and opened the window wide.
"Hey can I borrow your ivory blouse for work?" Without waiting for an answer she began to rummage in the closet.
Lucy stood stiffly by the door. She watched the woman's back as she swung hangers back and forth across the closet bar. No matter how hard she tried, the woman simply wasn't familiar to her. She seemed like the kind of woman anyone would be happy to call a friend. Smart, pretty, outgoing. Susannah Patel, grad student, underpaid intern, volunteer dog walker, vegetarian, Pisces, and supposedly Lucy's roommate since their sophomore year at college. This woman obviously cared about her. She emerged a moment later, blouse in hand and settled in, cross legged on the end of Lucy's bed.
"Eat up, your Aunt is coming to take you to your appointment with Dr. Erickson."
"Susannah..."
"Sookie."
"Sookie. Fine. Listen, I don't want to see that man again."
"Lucy, we've been over this, he's the best specialist in the city for handling your condition."
Sookie pulled off the her tee shirt and began to fiddle with the buttons of the borrowed blouse. Lucy blushed and looked away. Sookie rolled her eyes.
"Oh Lu-bear!"
"I'm not your Lu-bear! I don't even know you! I am not your roommate! That isn't my shirt!" Tears were rolling down Lucy's cheeks. "I want my husband! I want our condo, and my dog! I want my life back!"
Sookie stood and reached for Lucy.
"Oh Lucy, I'm sorry. We'll figure this out. Someone will know how to help you."
"Yeah, some shrink will make his career convincing me that I'm nuts!" she shouted. "I'm not suffering from some complicated amnesia! I'm not imagining my whole life!" Lucy pulled back from the offered hug. "And my favorite yogurt is blueberry!" She hauled back her arm, throwing the yogurt as hard as she could at the window. It bounced off of the screen and landed upside down on the floor. With a burp the foil top released a gob of grey-purple dairy onto the carpet. The women stood together and looked at it, oozing slowly toward Sookie's discarded tee. Through her tears Lucy started to giggle first.
|
|
|
|
Post by scribbliz on Mar 11, 2013 14:20:57 GMT -5
hee hee; well if you fall into any plot holes, just keep digging. my husband was teasing me once, and someone said he was digging himself into a hole...he replied, dig fast enough and far enough and you'll come out clean the other side. so maybe you can use those plot holes to make the story more interesting?  |
|
