The vanishing

2. A different girl

I was able to complete my work day, even if my mind was already at the hospital, visualizing my encounter with Catherina. I left early, pretexting a headache and got in my car for a fifteen minute drive that took me thirty-five because of a minor accident between a distracted man and a distracted woman.. Both busy using their driving time to do something else! I guess that they will both have plenty of hospital time to use in the coming days.

After parking the car, I entered the hospital, not too sure how I would find Catherina's room. This was a big hospital and there was no way for me to use my psychic powers to find her out, as I never met her, she could have been anyone. I decided to use more traditional means and went to the receptionist.

— Excuse me, could you be sweet enough to help me locate my friend Catherina Corilis? It's very important, she had an accident and I really need to see her. I used my sweetest voice, hoping that the guy in front of me was playing for the other team.

The guy looked at me, half knowing that I was lying and I sincerely don't know why. Maybe after a few years of answering the same question you come to get a third sense for liars and fakes.

- I will need you name, your REAL name, with some proof of it. You said Catherina Coriolis? He asked, with his most formal voice.

- My name is Phillip Walker, here's my private investigator permit. I show my card. This is a neat trick that my company put together. For 15$ you can order a very decent *official* identity card, which is good enough to get you through simple security checks like this one. "Yes, Catherina has been admitted earlier this morning, she will be glad to see me".

He typed a few seconds on his computer keyboard to finally look at me.

- She's in the trauma recovery center. 3rd floor, follow the instructions. You'll have to go to the nurse desk for the exact room, there's no room listed in the system for her.

- Is this normal? Do you have a lot of patients without a room number?

- Oh yes, even more if she just arrived. Don't worry, they will know where they put her. Just ask at the desk.

- Thank you, you surely made her day.

- I don't think so, I don't have the room number, but her condition code is 'Z', which is level 3 coma. I don't think you will have your friendly discussions tonight.

You'd be surprised, came to my mind, but I kept this thought between you and me.

Walking in the hospital is always strange for me. You know, for you it might be the antiseptic smell, for me, it's the pain and suffering feelings, peeling from the walls like old paint. They surround me like dancing serpents, trying to enter my mind, while I wait for the escalator. If there's a part of my gift that I don't like, it's this "mind rape" feeling that I get when I visit very public places. I've trained myself to close my brain, even developed new muscles around my asshole to make sure no imaginary serpents were ever to try this path to my brain! You would not imagine the level of residual pain that linger in a hospital. You would think that doctors help their patients, but from my perspective, I don't think they do. Maybe for some, anyway, the escalator is here.

A stop at the 3rd floor and find my way to the nursing desk. Two nurses are posted there, one buried in a pile of files while the other talking with a very beautiful young woman. I walked closer to the desk, a subtle smell of flowery perfume found its way to my nose, chasing the remaining ghostly serpents from around me. This is more than perfume. She smells 'joy' and 'peace'. Joy has a warm cinnamon after taste while peace is a white lower aroma, the two in perfect balance, reminding me of an old apple turnover recipe my mother used to make when I was a kid.