Where There is Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth

Chapter 16: And On And On And On it Goes

Bleary teary blinks didn't immediately clear his vision, but Shawn could tell a shape of some sort hunched at the side of his bed. Too slender to be his father, hair the wrong shade to be his mother. A nurse? Though usually they were more into taking vitals than holding hands. A rustle that came with the movement of the body nearby and a paper cup was held against his lips.

Water. He gulped at it – unable to stop the response any more than he could stop one hand from peeling out from beneath the covers to hold it in place until he'd drained it. He didn't beg for more. Didn't have to because a second cupful was held out for him again. Expecting heavy petting to join the generosity he was again left off center when the fingers didn't even brush his chin to wipe away the drops that had drizzled into his collar.

There was a soft click as he scrubbed a palm across his damp throat and then more shuffling along with the crinkle of paper. Shawn blinked again, regaining clearer vision and getting a focus on the woman to his right. Pale, with red hair and redder lips, why he was thrown by her casual jeans and T shirt he didn't know. Brain conjuring the expectation of a pressed suit and flashing light. He'd never met her before, had he?

“How are you feeling, Shawn?”

So she knew him. Or had read his name from his patient information hooked next to the door. So far anything but threatening yet he wanted to pull away from her just the same. Fingers tipped with blood red nails, talons, reached for his cup a third time. “You want more water?”

He did, but shook his head. He wanted distance.

Leaving the cup on the table, the woman crossed her legs and lifted a small tape recorder from the pocket of the light jacket slung over the arm of the chair. Red button depressed she set the device beside the cup before next retrieving a notebook. Was she a cop? A detective? Was that why he'd imagined her in a three piece? But why would an unknown officer be trying to get a statement?

“That's pretty incredible, what happened to you. Shawn, I need to ask you some questions. Do your best to answer them and I'll be out of your hair in no time.”

He nodded. Answer. Right.

Her smile was like stitches bursting from a wound.

“Okay, let's start at the start. Do you remember when Oz Kulish abducted you?”

Who? Tiny. She meant Tiny. It was... muddy. Thinking. He couldn't remember anything before. He could only remember... dark. Dark and cold. Skin scraping on a floor worn into a shallow bowl near the wall. His corner. Dirt collecting on his limbs only to be blasted away by the high pressure hose. Water captured in rapid gulps before, too soon, it was cut and he was left shivering in a puddle of muddy waste.

He was thinking too long. She was waiting. He shook his head and looked away. He tapped his fingertips together, a bit of tape tacking the ends. He watched the way his fingertips held, barest stick before popping apart. He heard another click and looked up as the woman slid something into her pocket. He didn't know her name. She hadn't introduced herself.

“That's alright. I know this has to be difficult for you. But we'll get through it, you and I, okay?”