Rika, the Cuban Flame

15. Mic Check, 1, 2, 3

Lucas

Dr. Vixler stands in my hospital room holding what I assume to be my file. Rika still has me tangled in her arms and legs from her own method of calming me down. That method works, and her constriction and power over me helps relax me, as strange as that sounds. She hasn't let me go, even with the chief of staff standing right in front of us. I'm lying on my back and she's on her side next to me with her legs wrapped around my waist; her sneakers extending out into the air past the bed. She has her arm around my neck and holds it in place, but doesn't choke me. Whenever I get upset, she's there to constrict me like a boa constrictor and that makes me her prey.

As Dr. Vixler opens the file in his hands and sifts through it. I know he is the biggest name in the entire hospital, with the title of chief of staff. He's the top-most authority here and he can overrule any other worker in the hospital. Preston University Hospital, much like the military, follows a chain of command. There are interns, residents, fellowships, attendings, heads of the departments, and finally, at the very top, the chief of staff. Or chief of surgery, who holds just as much power over the surgical staff. Dr. Vixler is younger than almost every other doctor I've seen here, and to be in such a position of power at that age is impressive. Either that or it's nepotism.

"So, Lucas, we have some ideas about what's wrong with you, but we'll need to get some scans and some blood. That okay with you?" Dr. Vixler asks.

"Yeah, that's fine. But why are you here?"

"You mean why is the chief of staff here?" he asks. "Me?"

I nod. "I heard rumors you never see patients."

Dr. Vixler laughs. "That would make me a terrible doctor then. You're a VIP patient, Lucas. So I'll treat you myself."

"I'm not a VIP..."

Rika reminds me of the hold she has on me, squeezing my neck a little and straightening her legs around my waist to apply pressure. "Yes, you are."

I nod. "Yes, I am..."

Dr. Vixler writes something in the chart. "I see you're in excellent hands."

"You mean excellent arms and legs," Scott corrects.

Allison laughs and I grin, turning to look at Rika, who gives me a sly smile. "Is there anything you need, Rika?" Dr. Vixler asks.

"Nope."

"Alright, we'll be back to get you in a little bit for your first scan." Dr. Vixler turns and drops the chart in a bin before disappearing. Allison and Scott approach the bed.

"We need to get to class," Allison starts. "You know... the ones you haven't been to for a while."

I scoff. "Yeah, me and half the class."

"He'll go back to class right when he's discharged from here," Rika says, answering for me. "He won't miss any more."

"Good," Scott adds. "We have our study group later, too."

"I'll try to make it, but I don't know when I'm getting out of here. I guess that depends on what's wrong," I answer.

"Let us know if you need us, okay?" Allison says.

"I will. Thank you."

Scott and Allison leave, and that just leaves me with Rika. We're quiet for a bit, and that's not something I mind. Quiet is good. Lying next to someone is good. Being held even if the hold is harsh and strong is good. Talking doesn't always solve everything. Sometimes the best way to communicate is by being close to another person. I'll gladly lie here in this loud silence if it means Rika stays right here next to me. She looks up at me and breaks the peaceful bliss. "What if I just hiked my leg up around your neck right now?"