Goldentracks

Chapter Twenty-Six

She woke in pitch dark. No shape of any kind could be seen. Where am I? She straightened herself. Moving to get up, she noticed her legs were too heavy to do so. Panic filled her. If she couldn't move, what would happen to her then?

No, she thought, I'm alright. I can wiggle my toes. I can feel my legs. They're just heavy. Taking a deep breath, she focused on her surroundings instead. For a time, all she could hear was her own breathing. But then, faint as it was, she heard a solitary chirp. It had sounded so far away. Maybe if I focus harder, I'll hear it better. But it was no use; all her efforts only made her feel tired. Sighing, she let it go. But soon the chirping sound came again, only this time it was louder. What kind of bird would make that sort of noise?

Chirp, pause. Chirp, pause.

Beep, pause. Beep, pause.

Her mouth felt unbelievably dry and her body heavy. Why was she so very tired?

She opened her eyes but the brightness of the light beyond them was painful. She closed them as they began to water. After a few moments, she tried again, blinking the tears out. It still hurt to open them, but not as much as it had before. Squinting into the brightness, she lifted her right hand to rub her unfocused eyes, but it was too heavy to bring all the way up to her face. She let it fall onto her belly. Grunting at the wasted effort, she lifted her hand again and this time it did as she had intended it to. By this time, her eyes had begun to adjust. She saw the tubes and needles in her hand and arm, and falling over the side of the bed. "What—" she croaked through her breath. Her mouth and throat were too dry to speak. She took in the pale mint green of the concrete walls and, turning her head to the left, she saw a curtain and the end of a hospital bed beyond it. Looking to the right, the window was letting in the midday sun.

I'm in a hospital, she thought. A door opened. She heard a few steps, and then a muffled cry. Slowly turning her head to the left again, she only had time to register that a woman had made the sound before she was being hugged. "Ellie! You're awake!" the woman said between gasps and sobs. She has a Spanish accent, her hair smelled of fruity shampoo, and her grasp was that of a mother cradling a newborn child. Only in this case the woman could only hold her head and shoulders.

"How are you feeling?" the woman asked, composing herself. "Does it hurt anywhere?" She gently let go, sat herself next to Ellie on the bed, took her hand, and waited for a response.

Fighting through her confusion, Ellie replied, "I'm thirsty."

"Oh yes, of course, I'll go and get you some water." Moving in close, the woman kissed her on the forehead before saying, "I'll be right back."

Once the door had shut behind the woman, Ellie looked around the room again. Why am I in a hospital? Placing her hands where her elbows had been, she tried to push herself upright. The effort pulled on her legs and she gasped in pain. Pulling the sheets aside she saw bandages on one leg and a cast on the other. Aghast, she tried to remember what had happened to cause her such injuries. Try as she might, nothing would come to her. As the pain decreased to a dull throb, she relaxed.

Who was that woman? she thought. She'd felt familiar, but no place or name would attach itself to her person. Fixing her mind on one idea for too long only confused her.

When the door opened again, a man in a white lab coat and light blue scrubs walked in closely followed by the woman. She quickly came up next to Ellie and offered her a cup of water. Ellie raised her heavy arm to take it. Holding the cup with a trembling hand, she slowly brought it to her lips. The woman put her hand on the cup to steady it. After drinking a few times in small sips, Ellie felt relief flow through her. The man who had been writing notes on a pad the whole time on a pad finally spoke.