Memories of a Life That Never Happened

Chapter 53 - Martyr

Theo heard the hurried, approaching clacks of his mothers' heels as echoing in the corridor. At four in the morning, he and his parents were the only people in the hospital's waiting room.  

Turning a corner, Carolina came into view toting two small cups of instant coffee. She held out one to Nicholas, who took it without so much as a thank you nod.  

The dark circles under Carolina's eyes could be chalked up to fatigue and a dry mix of wiped tears and smeared makeup.  

"And?" Theo asked. 

"The Doctor says we should be able to see him any minute now." 

Clearly, doctors had a different method for counting time. The hands of the wall clock had almost completed a full circle when the doctor came. 

"He's still feeling a little groggy and cold," the wiry man with a long face and big teeth told Nicholas and Carolina.  

Most of the doctor's hair was gone from his crown and forehead, but fluffy white wisps sprang from the sides of his head. This man spent too many hours in surgery to eat properly, Theo mused.  

"These are normal side effects of the anesthesia. They should go away soon," he added.  

"Thank you, Doctor," Nicholas said, crumpling the empty plastic cup in his hand. He threw it away before leading his wife and son into the room.  

What Theo found beyond door number 12, he would always remember.  

His loyal friend, Alan, was bedridden. The flush of his cheeks was gone and the amusement in his eyes replaced by pain.  

"There's our gladiator!" Nicholas cheered with a rehearsed grin plastered in his face. "How are you feeling?" 

Together and carefully, the Chusters approached Alan's bed.  

He winced as tried to move. "What happened?"  

Nicholas stared down at him with concern.  

"What do you remember, son?"  

Confused, Alan shook his head. "Only bits and pieces." 

Carolina bent down to cup Alan's hand with hers. "Oh, sweetheart! I feel so guilty." 

"Guilty?" He frowned. "For what?" 

"How's my brave patient?" interrupted the doctor who had just came in. He was trying to sound cheerful and failing miserably.  

"This is Nurse Helga." The bald man glanced at a sturdy woman whose resemblance to Alan was bewildering. "She's here to check your vitals. If everything's in order, you'll be free to go home in a couple of hours, ok?" 

"Great," Alan said in an expression that did not match his reply at all.  

"Now, you were shot in the leg."  

At that revelation, Alan's body wilted even further down below the blankets. It was as though his bones had liquefied.  

"I was shot?" He squealed, driving a hand to his chest.  

Good thing his friend was already lying down, Theo thought. 

"Here, darling," Carolina said and wiped Alan's forehead with a moist towelette she always carried in her purse.  

"Now, now, no need to worry," the doctor assured him. "It's just a flesh wound."  

Nurse Helga stuck a thermometer in Alan's armpit and ordered him not to move. Then she wrapped something around his flabby biceps and at the press of a button, the thing started compressing Alan's arm.  

Helga read his signs aloud to a much younger nurse, who noted everything on a clipboard. "5:30 a.m. Temperature: 36.5oC. Pressure: 12 by 7."  

Not a ceremonious person, Helga reached under Allan's hospital gown and started auscultating his heart.  

Nicholas' mobile phone started ringing and awarded him a scowl from Helga. 

"Excuse me." Theo's dad held up a finger. "I'll take this outside." 

"I'll be right back," Carolina excused herself and followed her husband out of the room. 

"So, what do you remember, Alan?" Theo asked, sitting on the edge of the bed foot.  

Alan gave Helga and her assistant a brief glimpse. "Hum, not much. It's all blurry. A bonfire and hot dogs. Oh, and cake. Yeah." Alan wetted his chapped lips. "Chocolate cake."  

"Write it down," Nurse Helga instructed her assistant. "Patient presents nausea but no loss of appetite." 

Once she was finished with her notes, the assistant dropped the clipboard in a bedside table and strut out of the room behind her supervisor. As soon as the door shut, Alan grabbed Theo's forearm.  

"I'm dying to know. What happened? Did you get to see anything?" 

A lopsided smirk etched in Theo's face. 

"Yeah. I must give it to you, Alan. Your plan worked better than I imagined." He struck his friend with a light punch in the shoulder. "There were a few downsides, though. Of course, hiding in the restaurant, I had eyes but no ears on what was going on in the bonfire. Plus, Mica's little brother almost caught me when Jacira took him to the bathroom to pee." 

"No shit!" Alan laughed.  

Theo nodded, chuckling. "Yeah." 

"What about when Mica and Abel went in. What happened? Did you find out anything interesting?" 

Theo's face lightened up and he said, "Oh, yeah."  

"Sweet! What was it?" 

Theo retold Alan what he had heard, or what he remembered, because the anxiety of hiding and later finding that Mica and Abel were right in the other room was too much for him. It made his senses too heightened and his mind a little hazy.  

"Oh yeah, I remember. Those guys showed up from nowhere!" Alan said, his eyes almost popping out. 

"Which guys? All I saw was two shadows running away. Everyone else was in panic. Mica's brother was crying and Jacira was comforting him. Joana was screaming at Nick and the Swiss siblings were holding each other." 

"I all happened so fast," Alan said. A bleak shadow crossed his eyes as he recalled it. "It was those guys from the New Year's Eve. Those who crashed the party." 

"What did they want?" 

"I don't know. All I remember is that I heard a shot and felt a sting in my leg. I touched it by instinct and felt something wet. When I looked at my fingers, they were all bloody."  

Alan looked at his palm and, because he needed to see it to believe it, lifted the bed sheet and stared at his bandaged thigh. He tried to move it and felt a sharp pain.  

"I was shot!" he cried and closed his eyes, leaning back on the pillows.  

"Hey." Theo tried to lift his friend's spirit. "It's not as bad as it looks."  

Theo felt terribly guilty about the whole thing. He knew how much Alan hated hospitals and all things blood-related.  

"I'm not feeling well," Alan murmured a bit greenish. "Is it-," he gulped and closed his eyes again. "Is it inside me? The bullet?" 

"No," Theo assured him. "And soon it'll be just an impressive scar to show off to the ladies." 

Eyes still closed, Alan remained silent, probably trying to assess how serious the situation was.  

"Get some rest," Theo told him. "Your parents should be here soon." 

"My parents?" he mumbled. 

"They're taking you home." 

"What? No. Hey, vacation's not over yet..." his voice trailed off. 

Before Alan could protest any longer, he started snoring and Theo knew his friend's troubled mind had drifted off back to hot dogs and chocolate cakes.