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“Did you expect me to flatten her into the pavement?” I ask him, a hint of humor in my voice. It wouldn’t be so unlike me, would it? I just can’t imagine intentionally hurting someone as beautiful as this. At least, not in such a fast and senseless way. No, the woman here… She’s the kind of beauty my cruel heart would torture privately, slowly, and deeply.
“Perhaps,” Michael chuckles. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were trying to win a few points back with God. Spare a life after taking one. Karmic balance or something.”
“Enough,” I sigh, shaking my head. A stranger approaches and asks if we need any help, but Michael tells them no. I reach for the woman’s bag and fish out a wallet. Out of the wallet, I find an ID. Anna Bates. Looks like she lives just down the street too. Poor thing must have been on her way home.
“Did you nick her or something?” Michael asks, hands going to his hips.
“No. I think she was in shock,” I reply before finally looking up at him. “Call an ambulance.”
“You’re joking,” Michael snorts.
“Why would I joke about getting her to the ER?” I fire back.
“Maybe because we need to leave the fucking scene before the cops show up,” he huffs.
“Yeah. Like we don’t have the cops paid off,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “Everyone in this god-forsaken town has a cop or two in their pockets. Do as I say. Get her an ambulance.”
He does and calls a family tow truck, though I can tell he’s less than enthused about the process. It doesn’t matter. The family, the rivals, the plan… It can all wait. Sometimes life gives you a reason to pause; and helping such a damsel felt as good as any. It’s only a matter of minutes before a Buffalo City General Hospital ambulance approaches.
They take her from my arms, and immediately, my body feels cold and empty. The illusion is shattered. I am once again my usual self that needs to get along with my day. I’m almost free of her strange little spell until the paramedic asks, “Do you know her?”
Anopportunity. I can be honest, say no, and go about my business. Or… I can lie by saying yes and spending some time with Anna. It's a rare chance to be with something so pure and peaceful without the ability to crush it. “Yes,” I state. “She was on her way home from work. She lives right down the road.”
“Would you mind riding with us?”
I shake my head no and toss Michael the keys to my car. “Meet me at the hospital once you have one of the other cars. And don’t forget my suit.”
Stepping into the back of the ambulance, I am once more washed in calmness at her sight. Anna looks so… helpless. It makes my chest tighten strangely. Sitting next to her, I study her face, getting lost in her features before a voice breaks my thoughts.
It’s a short ride to the hospital, but it’s filled with paramedics asking me about her medical history. Allergies, previously broken bones that may have plates or pins in them, addictions, current medications. I say no to all questions, I make up that I’ve known her for a few weeks, I tell them her birthday that I vaguely remembered from her ID. It’s all enough for them to believe me and not kick me out of the ambulance. Hopefully, none of my involvement makes a difference. Though, the thought makes me realize I care if my lying has consequences for her. How peculiar.
There’s a lot of movement, passing faces, and beeping machines as we move through the ambulatory entrance and down the hall. Her unconscious form is lifted from the gurney onto a hospital bed in a triage area. I’m allowed to sit next to her. Once they have her settled in, the paramedics leave, and nurses take over. She’s hooked up to an IV of fluids, and her body is examined. I watch gloved hands carefully manipulate her body to check for any bruising or wounds. Her skin is supple and without blemish—though not in an artificial, unnerving way the woman in the jewelry store was. There are light freckles across her nose and color in the apples of her cheeks. She’s real, natural, and still somehow perfect.
They find nothing but a couple of pieces of glass on the side of her head. The glass is nearly microscopic in size. I explain it must be from the windshield. They take some blood and leave. We aren’t left alone, however. It’s a triage. There’s a line of beds everywhere I look, and the beeping is driving me mad. I close the cloth curtain around her bed for a semblance of peace and sit back down. It actually seems to help calm my agitation.
I can’t make out what it is that is drawing me to her, but it’s strong. It’s disorienting. This isn’t the sort of guy I am. Whatever it is that is keeping me glued to her side… I firmly tell myself that as soon as I know she’s alright, I’ll leave. Waiting to know she’s really okay is the only rational explanation I can think of for why I feel so absolutely drawn to her.
It makes me think of the old cliché: a moth to a flame. However, I know better. I’m the flame—the destruction, the final destruction. No, this is something else entirely. I just don’t have the words for it.
“Are you Miss Bates’s friend?” A voice calls. I look up to see a doctor in what appears to be surgeon scrubs standing overhead. I haven’t any idea how much time has passed since I closed the curtain. Something tells me it’s been a long while. I’m annoyed by his question. Why else would someone be sitting with another person at the hospital? Then I remember the woman is a perfect stranger to me and simply give a confirming nod to the man. He peers down at a clipboard. “It appears nothing is seriously wrong with Anna. A little mixture of dehydration, malnutrition, exhaustion, and shock caught up to her. It happens all the time with the early-twenty-somethings.”
He chuckles, but I’m not amused. How is itnothing seriousif she’s all those things at once? My gaze pans back down to her, wondering how such a woman doesn’t take care of herself, to the point that a little shock makes her pass out like this.
“Make sure your friend gets three meals a day, optimally half a gallon of water, and a good night’s sleep and she should be just fine.”
“Thank you, doctor,” I mutter.
The man walks off, and I stand from my chair. I linger there a while longer, dictating the shape of her face to my memory. Once more, my concentration is broken by a person coming into the area. It’s a short, plump nurse with braided hair and kind eyes.
“Hi there,” she smiles and walks over to Anna’s side. “We are just going to start you on another IV bag. Okay, Miss Anna?”
I’m bewildered. The woman is talking to an unconscious person, but I can tell by her pleasant demeanor it’s something she always does. Maybe to give the person a chance to consent if they are somehow awake, or maybe it’s just out of habit. To my amazement, Anna groans in response. I know I need to leave. I mutter a goodbye and start to walk off. “Is there anyone you need for me to call for you, Miss Anna?” I hear the nurse say as I’m heading down the aisle of beds.
“My friend…” Anna groans, though she doesn’t sound awake. “My phone…”
Her voice is groggy, but I can still hear the velvety notes underneath the exhaustion and weakness. A true damsel, hanging by a thread, begging for someone to save her. Only, the best thing I can do for her now is get far, far away. I sigh and get out of the triage, opting for the stairwell. When I get down to the hospital entrance, I find it’s already dark out—and Michael is smoking a cigarette right next to theNo Smokingsign. I roll my eyes. “You better have brought a car with you. I’m not riding a taxi back.”
“Hello to you too,” he huffs and tosses his cigarette butt into the street. He nods in the direction of the parking garage, and we head on. “Took you long enough to get out here.”
