Lawrence woke to her voice; she was whispering his name and told him to wake up. What was Angeline doing in his stateroom on the ship? Was it Brigitte, but he thought she was getting married? His eyes fluttered opened as he felt her hand on his cheek. She removed a plastic cup from his mouth, an elastic band from over his ears and asking him to take deep breaths. Where was he? Was he dreaming? He touched her hair; its curls fell from a snug cotton hat. Was it Ann? No Ann had died; his eyes filled with tears remembering Ann’s death.
“Lawrence, I am going to sit you up slowly put your arms around my neck.” She hoisted him slowly toward her. He squinted at her brown eyes, which were looking at him over her glasses. -She repeated, “Perfect, now open those beautiful grey eyes and look around the room, your surgery is over”
Surgery, he mumbled under his breath as he continued to pry his eyes open. What happened to the white whale he had been diving next to just a moment ago? He looked at his hands resting on her shoulders. Were they the same hands that touched the gashes next to its giant blood- shot eye? He remembered the whale breaching near the ship, the sun’s beams reflecting off its pure white belly while pushed it back into the water. The whale’s fountain of spray drenched the coast guard boat; bouncing nearby in the waves, admiring the rare snowy white mammal
Lawrence watched it dive, following its waxen pointed dorsal fin move toward the aft of the ship. The first spray of blood hit the side of the ship, an artistic brush depicting peril, and Lawrence found himself in the water, swimming into the rising red waves. The whale floated, heaving air through its blowhole, it rolled its eye one last time toward Lawrence, and dove into the oceans abyss. He was dreaming, yes, he remembered, as he swallowed a sip of ice water from the glass she had placed on his lips, he had surgery. No, he was not on the ship, he was at his local community hospital, and his doctor said if he had this surgery, he could return to his cruise ship job. Lawrence felt her slowly move her finger down his neck and across his chest to a small mushroom cap bulge under his skin beneath his collarbone. He put his hand over hers massaging her fingers while he held a mirror a hand’s length away from the tactile journey. “We will use this new port to give you your medications, and it is usually just a tiny prick. Would you like something now for the pain?”
Lawrence was sitting on the edge of the bed; he felt her cotton surgical pants rub against his legs the skin now lacquered in a thick dark crusty skin, which extended from his ankles to his knees. He felt the extreme tightness of his swollen toes, hanging an inch above the floor.
He raised the mirror and looked closely at her dark brown eyes, her lips with days end faded red lipstick, and the three silver posts piercing her ears. She was close enough to kiss, but he opened his lips only to respond to her question, “Pain, no I
