GINGER AND BUBBLES

14| SOLDIER GIRL

I watch the nursing staff remove the casts from my arm and leg.

An explosion erupts in my head as silent, steady thoughts build and gather momentum. Feint, fluttering heartbeats quicken. There is a race horse in my chest cavity bursting through my ribcage.

I scream but there is no sound, only a cacophony of voices is pinging inside my skull, chiseling that one word on my lips. Monster.

The nurses step back, smiling, eyes glinting with satisfaction and excessive excitement as we stare at the limbs that emerged from the severed plaster: two chalky, discoloured and deformed body parts; once an integral part of my arsenal of independence. Now merely lying there. Staring at me asking where to from now? I look around the ward, greeted by the silence of the barely green walls and the white linen sheets. One of the nurses is cleaning my limbs while the other one is gathering medical waste. "Did you hear that?" I ask.

My attending nurse glances at me. "Hear what, sweetie," she asks and immediately proceeds with her task.

She didn't.

"That voice. Did you hear it?"

"Yes." She smiles at me. "Don't pay attention. It's only an announcement over our PA system."

Told you. Distant whispers erupt and resonate in my ears. They become louder and louder. My eardrums are bursting. Don't worry, we've got this.
Don't worry, we've got this. I press my hands against my ears. A wail escapes my lips. "Monstrous. Ugly. Hideous. Appalling," I murmur. Done with the self-pity now? We will fix you. "I am—"

"Ag, shame man." It is my attending nurse, again. "Don't cry. It's only a leg and an arm. Look at them...they are still there and... and very soon they'll be as good as new."  She strokes my arm without making eye contact.

They continue until they are done and all that remains are two thin, shriveled body parts that were once my arm and my leg.

"Very soon you won't even remember today," says the other one. They gather their instruments and tidy the bed.

The sounds and phrases of their well-rehearsed medical platitudes and optimism intertwine with the disgruntled noises in my ears long after they are gone. I pull the sheets over my head and wait for the voices to dissipate.

Anne is ecstatic when she picks me up from the hospital. "Now that you are rid of that unflattering gypsum plaster I want to treat you."

I pull the scarf tighter around my chin and paste on a soldier-girl face. "I want to go home."

She's not giving up. "Today I want you to do one thing that normal people do."

I scoff. "Normal people?"

"You've been through a lot, you know? All that time in hospital...cooped up in your apartment for six weeks? It's time to breathe a little...what do you say?"

I don't have the heart to crush her excitement, let alone the mother-hen display of concern for my wellbeing.

"As you can see, my arm and leg...well they..." We both stare at them.

She extends her arm. "Hush, here, hold onto my arm, I'll guide you inside the car." She hooks me securely to her side. "There you go. See? God didn't bless me with this sturdy body for nothing." She laughs with her whole face as she looks at me. "Now, sit back and I'll take it from here. Ready?"

"If you say so."

Despite my reluctance to indulge in the scraps of freedom thrown my way I open the window and savour the wind and sun on my disguised face. Finally, I'm released from the shackles on my arms and legs that had been weighing me down for so long. Yes, today is, indeed, a new beginning, one mere baby step towards a long and uncertain journey.

We stop at Houtbay harbour. Together we struggle up the staircase and are seated on the wooden deck overlooking the bay dotted with a variety of anchored boats. The loud engine of a fishing trawler churns up the water and leaves a beautiful pattern in the surf in its wake. People are frolicking under the mild sun regulating the activities of the little bay surrounded by rolling hills and scenic mountain peaks.

Somebody taps me on the shoulder. I look into the smiling face of a man in his thirties.

"Suzan?"

An electric shock rips through my stomach. I adjust my oversized sunglasses and pull the scarf tighter around my face.

"Yes?"

"It's me. Albert?"

An unruly heartbeat thump against my chest walls once again. "Albert, you said?"

"Yes. Albert from National Advertising. We used to work together...we...heard what happened to you."

"Albert...Albert from National Advertising...I don't remember..." I point to my head to divert his eyes from my patch hidden behind the non-intrusive shades.

"Yes...Yes, of course. But tell me. How are you doing?"

"How long?" I ask and meet his gaze.

Now his face is a mixture of confusion and discomfort. "How long?" He repeats my question.

"How long did we work together at the place you just mentioned?"

He swallows several times as the question eventually hits a cord. Uncomfortable he stumbles on.

"Ten years, give and take." His full lips curl into a smile as if he is reminded of something.

I stare across the sun-kissed water. Then I look at him. "Ten years..." I crush the serviette in my hand. "That's a long time, Albert. That's Uhm..." I force the lump down my esophagus.

"I'm very, very sorry, Suzan. For everything. I really and truly—"

Without saying another word he turns on his heels and disappears down the stairs.

"That was unbearable. Poor guy. Why so harsh on him?" It is Anne.

She is sucking on a prawn, eyes fixed on me. I can smell the garlic sauce and the alcohol on her breath. She picks up the long-stemmed glass and takes a sip of the crisp white wine. Her chubby fingers leave a fatty stain on the glass. She pulls at the soft pink flesh of another prawn and brings the glass to her lips again. I repress the desire to wrestle it from her hand and clean it with my serviette.

"We must head home," I hear myself say. "There's still a long road ahead of us," I lie when a frown forms on her forehead. I realise I am worried that she will order another drink. The thought sends a pang of terror down my spine.

"Relax, girla. We just arrived."

I nibble on my salad, relieved when she eventually flags down the waitron for the bill.

It's as if the interaction with Albert raised a ghost from my past. It triggered an emotion, a feeling of resentment which I do not understand.

I don't have anything to add to Anne's incessant babbling on our way home. She hardly notices that she is talking alone or that I stopped listening.

I step inside my flat, irritated and relieved at the same time. Something is off but I can't quite put my finger on the exact cause of my annoyance.

My answering machine is flickering. I press the button and sit down at the kitchen counter to listen.

Good day, Miss Delheim. This is SAFire-X Pharmaceuticals.

An article published on Timesonline recently caught our attention and we, a huge pharmaceutical company, want to offer you a position.

Set up an interview with our offices.

We trust to hear from you soon.

I walk to the mirror and pinch my face. I am awake.

I lie down on my back and replay the message in my head.