The Deal

The Witch Ball

*Make sure you read the last chapter, "The Snow" before this*

His memory of the accident has completely vanished.

Slowly, the fog that settled over his mind during his coma disperses, revealing all the memories underneath. But, that fated day has —gratefully— remained hidden. The doctor tells me this is often a coping mechanism for those awaking from a coma in order for them to function and acclimate better.

If only I could be so lucky... dreams of that day and all the recovery afterwards plague my waking and sleeping mind.

They tell me not to remind him of it, or my own injuries that resulted, and I'm more than happy to do so. They also tell me he's nearly completely cognizant after an unfortunate incident occurred.

After sleeping nearly ten hours, I was unable to see my dad yesterday like I planned. He woke up at dawn in fits: entirely confused, very agitated, and... asking for my mother.

They had to restrain him because he tried to hit Zoe in his disorientation. They had to sedate him and sent in a psychologist to speak to him once he awoke again hours later. Zoe called to tell me what happened and advised me not to come in. I listened because the thought of him screaming for my mother had me clutching my stomach and trying not to be sick.

So, I spent yesterday anxiously awaiting calls on his condition and trying to distract myself. Zoe was kind enough to text me updates every hour of his condition, but he spent most of the day with the therapist and then speech-pathologist.

Although the fit was frightening, he apparently came out of it more lucid and improved, with no memory of his panic and violence that morning.

For some reason, the improvement of his condition makes me more nervous to see him.

I leave my house before the rooster even stirs awake, anxious to see my father after being separated from him yesterday. I found a blue, tulle skirt in the back of my closet and some matching boots, throwing those on with a floral top. Blue was always his favorite color and I hope it still is.

Believed to be the color that wards off the Evil Eye, blue is a lucky and protective color. Shades in the sky and ocean, it's a magnanimous color that reflects strength and vitality. Wearing the shade can help protect one from evil spirits and bad energy.

I practically race down the steps of my porch and, although she was glued to my side all day yesterday, my mother stays behind once again as I leave the house and head towards the hospital.

The snowfall the other day was a freak weather event, not a flurry since, but it's still cold enough to have the streets fairly empty and pedestrians bundled up considerably. The air is particularly brisk as I watch the sun rise beyond the cliffs, making my way down the cobblestone path.

Despite the chill, my palms grow slick and blood warms my veins as I get closer to the hospital. I realize, too late, that I should have brought flowers or food or something from the home for my dad, but I'm much too excited to see him. Too antsy.

He's been awake now for over 48 hours and I've barely spent two hours with him.

The nurses' smiles are warm as I greet them and race down the hall, heels loud in the abandoned wing of the hospital. Except, I begin to hear familiar voices as I get closer to the room and slow my pace, stepping lighter so I can make them out.

One is clearly my father's low timbre, but the other lilting tinny voice is instantly recognizable as Nan's. I hear my name in their murmurs and, despite my better judgement, come to a halt just outside the door.