Run (#Wattys2016)

43

        I tripped and almost fell. Lansing caught me just before I hit the floor. Again.

“Dang it,” I mumbled, as Lansing put me back on my feet and placed my hand back on the IV pole, “It hasn’t even been…ten feet.”

“Maybe we should take a break. You’re out of breath. You need to take this slowly.”

“No. No…At least ten…Just ten,” I begged, gripping the IV pole until my knuckles practically glowed white. Lansing was helping me with physical therapy. By watching me walk down a hall and catching me when I fell.

I finished walking the two feet. With difficulty. But I didn’t fall. Didn’t even stumble.

“Now we walk back,” I told him, trying to turn around.

“No. Now I take you back.” With one sweep of his arms, he’d scooped me up. I let out a small scream of protest, “I can do this!”

“I’m not getting the nurses angry with me for over-exerting you. That’s it for today.” I sighed, laying my head on his chest. I didn’t want to go back to my room and lay there all day.  I wanted to do something. To move.

For the past couple of days people had been streaming in. Old teachers, pastors, friends from church, some students, random people who had heard the story. Not many of the latter. I hadn’t seen Palika again, though. Not since two days ago.

“You can put me down now,” I told Lansing as we reached the doorway.

“Uh no. You’re going straight to the bed.”

“But Mom…” I mumbled, smiling, “I’m not tired.” Lansing laughed and laid me gently on the bed. I closed my eyes as he situated my limbs. Trying and succeeding to make me more comfortable.

“Lansing?” I asked as the covers were pulled up to my chin. There was a grunt in reply.

“Are they going to…restrain me again?”

“I’m not going to,” he replied. He was still messing with the blankets.

“Not what I asked.”

“The doctors might. I don’t know. You haven’t had any panic attacks lately. I don’t see any reason to.”

“Doesn’t mean they don’t.” I was exhausted. Why was it that every little thing wore me so thin?

“Just keep some hope in those eyes,” Lansing smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, “I’ll go ask the nurses if we can keep you restraint-free.”

“Thanks,” I smiled up at him, watching him get to the doorway. Where he was stopped by a woman in a pantsuit.

“Whoops, sorry!” she exclaimed, “Is this Lekia Born’s room?”

“Yes, who are—Hey!” Lansing tried to stop the woman as she walked into the room, motioning for someone outside.

“She’s in here, Ryan! Bring the photographer too.” A man with a video camera shoved past Lansing and into the room. Following the woman. Another man with camera followed closely behind. The photographer.

“What’s going on?” I asked sitting up, “Lansing?”

“Hey!” Lansing yelled, “You can’t be in here!”

“She’s allowed visitors, isn’t she?” The woman asked giving a coy smile. I already didn’t like her.

“Not any she doesn’t approve of,” Lansing replied, gesturing to the door, “You can leave now.” The woman ignored Lansing and turned to me. Crap. Go away. And take your flying monkeys with you.