The Fox & The Crow

Chapter Seventeen *not edited*

I was wheeled out of the hospital around twenty minutes ago. They parked my wheelchair by a table outside in a garden that was filled with other recovering patients. Most talk quietly with one another. A few times, some will shake violently while nurses wheel them inside. None of it bothers me. Instead, I stare out at the scenery as my mind thinks of only one person.

My eyes sting from the cold wind and I blink a few times, although it doesn't help. My scarf blows behind my neck and I don't bother rewrapping it. The rest of my body is covered by a quilted blanket. I shiver a few times and grit my teeth together to keep from chattering.

The sky is a pale blue with greyish clouds that swim past the sun, blocking out the light every so often. I watch as the shadows of the clouds slowly creep over everyone. They never notice. I do. When the clouds wash over me, I can feel the change in my skin. It crawls until the sun peeks out and kisses it again.

A few nurses attend some of the elderly, asking them if they need more blankets and serving them tea. Background music plays from a phonograph. The person over the radio sings softly of their lover's lips and their intoxicating touch. They hum the last note before the orchestra takes over and finishes the song in a flourish of trumpets, sweet saxophones, and soft cymbal tapping. When it ends, a nurse restarts the song and we go back in time a few minutes to hear how her eyes are like milky waves and her voice like that of honey.

The sweetness of it all gives me a headache and I try to block out the noise with my mind. Violet.

¨Chamomille tea, sweety?¨

I look up to see a smiling nurse with crimped brown hair standing over me with a steaming cup of tea.

¨No, thank you.¨ She nods curtly and leaves.

I sigh and turn back to stare out at the view of sick people scattered in chairs across the lawn.

¨I've never seen a patient turn down a cup 'o their chamomille.¨

I turn my head to see an older man in a wheelchair roll over to me. He parks across from me without being asked and groans slightly as he does so. Leaning back, he breathes out and slicks back his gray hair, but a few strands are blown in front of his eyes.

¨You know, girly, you're gonna be regrettin' it soon. No one makes tea like this here institution.¨

I stare at him.

He clicks his tongue as the music restarts and begins fishing through his pockets before pulling out a small can of tobacco. He pops open the lid and takes a small clump and puts it into his mouth, chewing on it for a moment before turning to me again.

¨My name's Sally. Don't bother calling me Sal. I never liked shortened names. Some people think they're cute, I just think they're lazy.¨

The ends of my mouth curl up slightly, but I still do not reply.

¨The thing is, girly, when someone gives their name, the polite thing to do is to tell 'em yours.¨

He stares back at me and continues chewing his tobacco.

¨Elaine.¨

¨You got a last name?¨

I stab my nail into my thumb and when the pain finally kicks in, I say, ¨Laurence. My last name's Laurence.¨

¨Now I'm not gonna call you Laney or anythin',     I'm gonna stick with 'girly.'¨ He turns and spits onto the ground. ¨Don't expect me to change it. Once I find a suitable name, I keep it.¨