The Elephant Secret

Chapter 10

 Braking through the trees of the park I speed up a little. Behind me Sam and Drake are getting closer. We took a short cut through the park. A path of dark soil is left in the grass after the tiers of the bikes speed through it. Only a few more miles and we’re there. Amy’s head is covered with helmet that is too big for her. It was Ibha’s when she was almost one years old, but it’s better than nothing. I feel her breathing on my chest. Her little hands cling on to my jacket.  There is no one around. Until we get closer to the hospital. A half blown up car sits in the lot. People stream in and out of the big white and grey building. I slow down and park the bike by the wall of the building. Sam and Drake stop and get off. I take my helmet off and hang it on the steer of the bike. “We’re here.” I say to Amy. I take her little helmet off and see looks at me with a smile. Her eyes are glassy from tears, hopefully because of the wind. Drake and Sam catch up to me as I walk up to the double glass door. Inside everything is on the move. In the supposed waiting-room are people lying on the floor in agony and pain. Babies are crying and kids sit by the wall, their limbs wrapped in casts, and bandages. On a bed is a body of a small human, a kid, a white sheet covers it all, but a pale, tiny hand that hands out from the edge of the bed. Motionless, small wingers, one has a red flower Band-Aid on it and the fingernails are painted blue. I hug Amy closer to my body. Like I’m trying to spare her this horribly tragic sight. A woman dressed in a dark purple hospital outfit walks towards us. “Are you okay?”

She asks and starts to investigate my face. I nod. “I found this little girl in the supermarket, her mother,” I pause. I can’t say it in front of her, even though she can’t hear me. “Her mom was shot. Killed.” I say bluntly. There was something so wrong about it.

“Okay,” she says sadly. I take Amy out of the baby-bag and turn her to the lady. She smiles at her. “Do you know her name?” She asks.

“No her mom’s name was Amy Laura Emerson. We call the baby Amy.” I say. She nods and smiles towards Amy.

“We have a children shelter for children that have been separated from their families or like in her case,” She nods towards the baby. “Lost their family.” She tells us. I nod and step away.

“Okay Amy.” I turn her so she is looking at me. “This is where I say good bye. I want you to know that I love you, even though I’ve only known you for a short period of time. Yet, you are so amazing. You’ll be safe here.” I tell her and kiss her forehead. She claps her hands on each side of my face and pulls it against her face to make me kiss her forehead again. “Good bye.” I say and hand her to the woman. I wave and she does the same, for the first time. Tears start to appear in the corners of my eyes. The feeling of losing someone dear reminds me of an event that happened only three and a half year ago.

            Sam and Drake say good bye to her and Sam starts to tear up too. She waves as they walk away. “So Sam? Should we go find your mom?” Drake asks.

“I know where she is.” He says. “Can you just wait here?” We nod and I go to wait outside.

            Sitting on the pavement you can see the smoke towers streaming into the air from where the troops have been. The sky is blue and bright and the sun is shining. This is probably the last summer day. It should be getting colder now. The winter is coming. A man holding his wife’s powerless body runs up the steps and into the hospital. He looked exhausted. The woman has her arm hanging down, on skin and nothing else. Blood streams down from it and drips down her fingertips. Inside the doctors come rushing towards them with a bed and other things to help her. I look back at the sky. Helicopters swarm through the air. It didn’t even strike me to see them man running with his wife’s blood on him. This is my reality now, better get used to it. I feel a hand on my shoulder. Drake sits down with a newspaper in his hands. “Medius government has not declared a ‘total war’ yet.” He reads to me out loud. “The army has not a number over fallen soldiers, nor fallen enemies.” He looks up from the paper.