My Dear Friend

CHAPTER THREE🍀

My eyelids feel as if they weigh a ton while I fight to open them. It's a challenge to move anything and my entire body is stiff. I try to wiggle my fingers, my toes. Even my face muscles. I want to groan but I can't even do that. I hear a steady beep sounding from somewhere unknown to me and notice a weight is added to my index finger when I am finally able to move it. My nose tickles. I wiggle it for relief but something is in my way.

"What the hell?"

My voice sounds strange. As if it didn't come from my own body. My throat feels dry and burns like a bitch. What is going on? I open my eyes and hiss at the immediate pain. Too damn bright. I shade my face and narrow my eyes to take in what I see. I don't recognize this place so I know I'm not at home. Where am I? It takes all my strength for me to sit up. I strain my muscles. I can do it. I can. Dammit. Why is it so difficult? I turn my head to find anything that'll help. I raise my hands to a rail on my side and even that's a struggle. Why am I so sluggish? I let my hand fall against the bar and fight to tighten my grip. I look to do the same on the other side. Too far. I prepare myself to roll and sit up that way. It takes me a while. By the grace of God, I get it done. All that work made me forget about how thirsty I am. My legs... I pat the covers to see if my legs are still there. I am relieved when I feel limbs. I fall back and sigh, taking in my surroundings. How the fuck did I end up in the hospital? At least that's where I think I am. I swallow and grab my throat. The fuck did I do? I look at each bedside table. I don't have my phone and my wife isn't here. Maybe she stepped out for a minute? I know seeing me in the hospital makes her nervous. The kids must be with my Momma if I'm in here. A faint smile makes a home on my lips. I feel like shit, but I'm excited to see them. I sit for a moment. I find that I don't know what day it is. I twiddle my thumbs and try to recall anything. The more I keep at it, the easier it gets. Same with wiggling my toes. I have a thought that I'm trying to remember my body again and blame it on some hardcore anesthesia. I don't remember being scheduled for surgery or anything. What the hell did I do? I wonder where Marcus and Terrance are before I see a large photo of us from when we were in high school on a dresser across the room. It was the start of fall, we were outside in our school's courtyard. Our friend Slink caught us off guard while we were all joking. Probably at something stupid Terrance said. That picture is one of my favorites. We were so young then. I run my gaze along the other photos. They're all ones of us in high school or younger. I stop when I see a picture of young Momma B and my mother Crystal at the same age. It's also autumn in their picture. I'm amused by the similarities. Me and Marcus both resemble our mothers too. Crazy. I glance at the clock mounted on the wall since that's the only way I'll know what the time or day is. I see the hour clearly. It's 2:02 in the afternoon... but what I don't understand is the date. Why does it say May 20th? It must be wrong because... my birthday has already passed... But why would a hospital clock be wrong? That can really fuck somebody up. Imagine waking up from surgery or heavy medicine and seeing the wrong date. I blink rapidly. A cloud of confusion hovers over me. I try to swallow again. My throat feels tight and tender. I need water. I mentally prepare myself for the challenge that will be reaching the call button and let out a huff.

"Here we go."

Ouch... I will no longer speak. Not until my wife gets here. Just as I begin my quest for the button a nurse walks in. We make eye contact. He immediately screeches and drops his clipboard. Shock covers his pale face. I give him a weird look and he takes his hand from his mouth.

"M-m-mr. Barnes. Y-you're awake." He blinks profusely. I give him a look to say 'duh'. Why wouldn't I be awake? Maybe he's a fan? We can figure all that out later. Right now I need answers... and water. I will start with the most important.

"Where is my wife?"

The burly man's eyes bulge. "DOCTOR SIMMONS!" He screams. You'd think he heard gunshots the way he stumbled out of the room. I sigh and wait patiently for my well deserved response. Hardly two minutes pass when that odd nurse returns with the doctor. She races past my door as the nurse halts to a stop. He reaches out a hand, trying to catch the her attention. Doctor... Simmons doubles back and almost crashes into him. He does an awfully awkward step back and spin to avoid collision. He trips and quickly finds his balance. The young doctor pants heavily in the doorway, her arms are stretched to grip the frame on each side. Wild curls spiral from a messy high bun. She pushes up a pair of black glasses with her index finger. That crazy look in her eye reminds me of Marcus. She's pretty, black, and just his type. I'll tell him about her when he gets here. She mumbles something to the nurse but I can't make out what is said. He shakily pulls out his phone and calls someone. I hear him give a frantic hello and step away.