The Weird Insights of a Scobberlotcher

Thirty-eight Sounds Sickly Pink

Woke up to this sort of rustling to my right. I was lying on my back with my eyes closed and I could see them. White plastic tumbleweeds lightly scratching and kicking up brown specks as they rolled by in either direction. Occasionally they were pierced by sharp squeaks of light. Foot traffic. People walking back and forth close to me, sneakers periodically complaining. I was pretty sure where I was even before I opened my eyes for confirmation. There was that unmistakable smell of industrial health care. No question. Back in the hospital.

I wasn't in a room this time. I was lying in a long, narrow hallway, sunny side up on a gurney, blanket drawn to my waist. Orderlies, nurses, and doctors in blues, maroons, whites, yellows were passing in either direction. They were completely oblivious. Even when they had to dodge to get by. Like I was a lamppost or a fire hydrant. Propped myself upon an elbow and looked around. I had company. There were four other gurneys hugging the same wall. All lined up neatly head to foot, me at the far end near a set of swinging doors. No one moved. No one made a sound. They all just lay there passively. Hard to tell if they were even conscious. Or alive, for that matter. Which was good. I really wasn't up to mentally metabolizing the sounds of suffering just then. Felt weak and spacey. That extra sympathetic beat from the PVC was back diddling with my heart. Totally benign but it's right there buried deep inside the chest, an unnerving syncopation you can't escape.

Hadn't set out with a watch or cell so I had no idea how long I'd been there but it was already long enough. I waited for the right moment when the hall was empty, kicked away the blanket, carefully slipped off and fled. It took awhile to find my way out. Navigating hospital hallways always feels like picking your way through the labyrinth at Knossos. Even ones you've been in before. After a few wrong turns I finally found the emergency clinic entrance and made my escape. Doubted anyone would follow me. Or even notice I was gone.

I plodded along methodically, deferring to my transient condition. Maybe five minutes into the walk home I finally noticed this large, awkward lump in my right pants pocket. Reached down, tapped it, explored its dimensions with my fingertips. Too big to be a wallet. Besides, I only remembered bringing along a credit card. Just in case. I reached in and pulled it out. It was the box containing the Tarot deck. I stopped and stood there staring at it. Equal parts 'what the fuck?' and 'well, of course.' Then I felt this sudden jolt of panic. Like accidentally sticking my finger into an electric socket. What about the key? Where's the key? Where the fuck's the key? I jabbed my other hand into my left pocket and pulled it out. It felt reassuringly substantial to the touch. A relief. My heart may have skipped a beat there but who would've noticed?

Don't know how long I just stood there, transfixed, box in one hand, key in the other. I was still staring at them when the bomb went off. Well, more like a microcosmic Big Bang. First appeared as a spontaneous, tiny, fiery point which expanded in a nanosecond to consume my brain in a blinding flash of burning orange. And just as suddenly it was gone, exhausting itself into a cold void filled with angry echoes flapping around on black wings. Boy, hadn't let one like that sneak up on me completely defenseless in quite a while. I'd thoughtlessly ground to a complete halt halfway into a cross walk. There was a bumper at knee level maybe a foot or two to my left. It was attached to a car equipped with an angry face hanging out an open window. The face was threatening me with another blast of its horn. To my right and up about fifteen feet was a flashing advanced turn green light. I'd been unwittingly impeding the world's progress.

"Hey, wake up asshole. Stop texting and get the fuck out of the way," the face shouted.

"Sorry," I said and scurried. No time to tell it that its voice was full of crows.

When I finally got home I lay down and stayed down. Still felt like shit. Takes a while for the effects to pass so I thought I might as well spend the idle hours taking stock of the day's events. Didn't last long though. Started to cry, instead. Just silly, really.