IMPETUS

Her

Nearing the end of his long and winding recovery, Mikey took to touring the hospital floor on his crutches. Not only for the benefit of exercise, but also to alleviate boredom. And loneliness. Howard Baker was gone again, this time for good. With his condition upgraded to stable, he was cleared to return to his world of cut-throat commercial real estate, to run out the clock in familiar surroundings. The two men had promised to keep in touch, of course. But promises were fickle trinkets out in 'the real world', tossed around like coins at a carnival barker, and they'd both been around the track too many times not to know it.

Just glad to be free of his wheelchair, he felt content to stick close to the confines of his own ward at first, where the smells were predictably bland, putrid or just plain stale, and the faces all matched accordingly. Then finally the day came when a beckoning for excitement compelled him to branch out and explore.

"Lobby?" Mikey questioned the flustered young woman when she stepped in the elevator with her bouquet of withering yellow flowers that covered half her face.

"Yes please," she nodded for him to hit the button, and their eyes briefly intertwined.

The elevator filled up gradually as they made their uneventful descent, although Mikey did catch her piercing green eyes on him once every few floors, passing it off like she was watching the numbers. He of course, not being blind, noticed her every bit in return. Despite her obstructed features, she was stunningly beautiful. And those eyes more than made up for what was left to his imagination.

As the crowded car spilled out on the lobby, she gave him another passing glance, which he fliply reciprocated, then watched her go all the way to the automatic doors and disappear into the muggy grey afternoon.

For the rest of the day afterward, he felt like an idiot. Or perhaps it was vulnerability. Either way, not a mood he was used to. Too much rest and recuperation had dulled his razor sharp edge, knocking him way off his game. And not only because of the unflattering hospital gown, or his lacklustre grace on crutches.

To claim it was anything more than coincidence when he saw her again might have been wishful thinking. Perhaps he was not actively looking for her, per se. How could he be? When he didn't even know who she was. Her name. What she was doing there. Or if she would return. He just wanted to feel like himself again.

*
"Lobby right? See, I remembered." Two days later, on his way down for a cigarette, the elevator doors parted and there she was. This time, hands full of accessories. Under her left arm was an umbrella, and resting in her right palm, a decorative pot with more brown withering flowers.

"Somebody sure loves dead flowers." He ribbed her with whatever he could work with.

"Chrysanthemums." She explained. "My grandmother's favorite. Trouble is they don't last long."

"Maybe that's what makes them so special."

She smiled, bashful. "Feeling any better?" she asked.

Mikey might have been rusty, but he knew a green flag when one was waving him forward. "Definitely," he said. "By the minute," trying to sound casual. But of course...

"How did it happen?" She let him off the hook. "If you don't mind my asking."

"Bad car accident." He answered. "You should'a seen me when I came in here."

Several more floors passed between them as she studied his face curiously.

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

Experiencing a jolt, Mikey straightened his arching back. "Depends. Ever watch ESPN2?" He asked, only half-joking.

The girl smiled a heart-stopping smile. "You kidding? I usually keep it on in the background while I'm drying my hair."

Mikey's confidence kept right on climbing.

"I'm on the circuit." He proclaimed with a recuperating swagger. "Least I used to be. Before this little pit-stop."

Her smile faded and her eyebrows went up. "And which circuit is that?"

He shrank, unable to tell whether she was serious. "Nascar." He clarrified. "I'm a driver."

It took her a second for it to register. "Wait a minute. That is where I've seen you. You're that DaVinci guy who broke every bone but his spine a little while back."

"It's Angelo, actually. But most people call me Mikey." He stuck out his hand. "And you are?"

Before she could answer, the elevator came to an abrupt halt and the doors split apart for a stretcher squeezed between two orderlies.

A few more floors, and occupants later, Mikey just went for broke. "Can I buy you a cup of coffee?" He must have sounded like a lunatic in that paper-thin get-up. In fact, a few passengers made a point to give him a widening berth.

But not her.

Her mischievous eyes sparkled. "You don't waste any time, do you?"

"Haven't got too much to waste." He said, matching her soft, but steady gaze. Boy was she beautiful.

When the elevator landed, Mikey and his new friend let the other passengers depart, still playing their silent little game. Down to only the two of them, she signalled him forward and said, "After you."

This time he could not conceal the rush of adrenaline.

The day just might hold some promise after all.