Patient Number One: Lucia Espinosa.
The party is in full swing by the time I return to Lucia Espinosa. She’s standing by the buffet table with Sophie. The buffet table is truly an incredible spread, with food piled high across the whole length. I’m actually jealous that I won’t be able to taste any of the food, it looks so delicious!
Lucia’s mother, Carla, approaches with a few other women that look to be the same age. “Chica! Everyone wants to talk to you and congratulate you! Why are you hiding over here?”
“Oh, you look so pretty Lucia! Just like your mother when she was younger!” one of Carla’s friends gushes, making Lucia blush and look down at her feet.
“Yes, one could easily mistake you for sisters!” another of Carla’s friends laughs.
“Now, now, stop crowding her.” The last of the women with Carla chided the others. “Come now, Lucia, your cousins want you to join in their game. You too, Sophie, dear.” She smiles warmly.
Lucia grins gratefully at the older woman. “Yes, Tia,” and she and Sophie move off to join some of the younger kids who are running around with a soccer ball.
“Nina, you’ve got to stop giving Lucia a way out instead of talking to people. She needs to learn to talk to people!” Carla chides her friend, who I have now gleaned must be Lucia’s aunt Nina. My detective skills are truly on point.
“She’s allowed to be shy, Carla. And she shouldn’t be forced into uncomfortable situations.” Nina argues back. The two women keep arguing, but their voices get fainter as Lucia continues walking away from them, and my focus is dragged away with her.
Lucia and Sophie approach the kids playing, and the kids quickly make Lucia the referee. Sophie joins in, kicking the ball, showing off her trick shots. She’s pretty good, she could easily play professionally!
After a while, they all make their way back to the buffet table and join the throngs of people piling food onto their plates. Man, I wish I still had a body! I swear I can feel my no-corporeal mouth watering!
Lucia sits down on a picnic blanket with Sophie next to her sisters. “Did you hear Laurie going on about her latest psychic vision? I swear she’s insane!” Lucia’s oldest sister, Pamela, laughs.
“She really believes in it, though. And who are we to say that ghosts can’t exist? There are so many unexplained phenomena in the world.” Bella responds.
“Oh please, everything can be explained. Sometimes it just takes a bit longer to find the answer.” Pamela scoffed.
“Why does there have to be an answer to everything? Maybe some things are meant to be left unexplained, and unknown.” Sophie joins in the conversation.
“Maybe, but Laurie doesn’t have to be so pushy about her so-called visions. And what she said about Lucia? That was just cruel, especially after we waited so long for her new heart.” Pamela replied.
“What did she say?” Lucia asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Bella replied quickly, as Pamela at the same time said, “Just some rubbish about some shadow around your heart, following you.”
Lucia looked uncertainly between her sisters. Bella shot Pamela a glare, before turning back to Lucia, gently saying, “It doesn’t matter, Luc.”
Lucia nodded but looked over across the street towards an older woman, who looked to be in her fifties, or maybe sixties. She had greying hair, countless bangles, and so many beads and crystals hanging from her neck and ears it was like she was cosplaying as a disco ball. The woman was picking up some stray confetti off her blouse, before suddenly turning towards Lucia and staring directly at her.
No, wait.
The old woman was staring directly at me.
Patient Number Two: Mike Greene.
After my previous creepy encounter, I was almost glad to see the trash-covered motel room of Mike Greene. Although, it might just be my imagination, but this place might actually be cleaner than when was last here.
Actually, this place is definitely cleaner. The empty take-out containers and drinks cans have been thrown in the bin, the loose stacks of take-out menus and mail have been straightened and piled neatly. The curtains have even been opened, letting in some natural light! Wow, the carpet is actually a nice shade of coral, and there’s also an armchair and a coffee table next to the couch! Who knew.
This must be because of that Peters guy Mike’s landlord told him about. Mike is pacing back and forth nervously. Wow, he even took a shower! Seriously, who is this Peters guy?!
After another half hour, there’s a knock at the door. Mike freezes in his pacing, looking apprehensive, before going over to the door and opening it up.
The motel owner described him pretty well. Army guy, uniform and badges and everything. Peters is tall, pushing 6”5, and has a grim look on his face. Rows of badges, honours, and medals adorn his uniform.
Mike snaps to attention, saluting the man at his door. “Major Peters.”
“At ease, Gunny. You’ve been a civilian for over a decade now, no need to salute me. May I come in?” Mike nods, stepping aside for Major Peters to enter. He removes his hat as he enters, stooping slightly under the low door frame.
“Sorry about the mess. I was in hospital for a while, trying to get back on my feet.” Mike shuffled some old receipts he’d forgotten to clean up under the cabinet with his feet, gesturing for the Major to take a seat. “Coffee?”
“Please.” Major Peters sits, looking around, while Mike heads over to the coffee machine to make a couple of mugs. While he’s waiting, Major Peters spots the photo on the cabinet of Mike in his army uniform. Taking another look at the photo, I spot a younger Major Peters in the photo as well.
Mike comes back with the coffee mugs and sits on the recently uncovered armchair across from Peters. “So, Major, what can I do for you?”
Major Peters takes a few seconds before replying, staring contemplatively into the brown liquid, as if figuring out how to start. “Willis was killed in action, three weeks ago.” He eventually said, seeming to decide bluntness was the best approach.
Mike took in a sharp intake of breath. “Willis? How?”
“Car bomb planted where he was deployed as part of relief efforts.”
Mike nodded slowly, before sighing and drawing a hand over his face.
“Willis didn’t have any family. The army, his unit, were his family. His funerals’ this weekend. He’d have wanted you to be there.” Major Peters told Mike.
Mike nodded again, still absorbing the news. “Will the others be there too? Ryan, Tucker, and Matthews?”
“Yes. They’re all making their way there too.”
They’re silent for a few moments, each reliving their own memories. Eventually, Major Peters rises. “I’ve got a flight booked for tomorrow afternoon. I’ll travel with you. You’re the last of our old unit I needed to notify.”
Major Peters leaves, and Mike is left in silence. After a few minutes, Mike suddenly stands up, kicking over the coffee table, slamming his hand against the wall, yelling out “DAMMIT!” He breathes heavily, before sighing deeply, grabbing his wallet and keys.
He trudges along the darkening street. Up ahead, bright lights and music fills the air. A dive bar.
Goddammit, Mike! Don’t do it!
Ugh! Why am I powerless to stop him?!
Fine. If he wants to ruin my liver, that’s his problem.
Patient Number Three: Richard Wilkes.
Despite my fears and better judgement, the same sick curiosity drags me back to Richard Wilkes. He’s across the street leaning against a wall, staring at a wine-bar. After a few minutes, he straightens, crosses the road, and heads inside.
Jazzy music is playing, the atmosphere is lively, people are chatting while drinking wine and standing out tall circular tables. Richard heads over to the bar. “Evening,” he greets the bartender. “A chardonnay for the lovely redhead over there.” He points across the room, and I see nurse Anna, laughing with a couple of friends, oblivious to the creep who had followed her all the way here.
A waitress takes the glass of wine over to Anna, and motions over to Richard. Richard bows mockingly and winks when Anna looks over. She freezes, quickly grabbing her friends’ arms and dragging them further into the wine-bar away from Richard. He sits, watching her, slowly sipping from his own drink.
After a couple of minutes, a bouncer approaches Richard and places his hand heavily on his shoulder. “You’re making our patrons uncomfortable, so I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” The bouncer pulls Richard out of his seat.
“Hey, I’m a patron, too.” Richard says nonchalantly. Ugh.
“Not anymore. Out. Now.” The bouncer shoves Richard towards the door, and walks with him to make sure he leaves, slamming the door in his face.
Richard scoffs once he’s outside. “Typical. Fine, I’ll just have to try another time.” Richard finally walks off.
Another time? Ugh, when is this creep gonna stop?!
Patient Number Four: Joanna Yang.
When I get back to Joanna, she’s sitting in a small office, I’m assuming at the police station. She’s behind the desk, spinning aimlessly in the office chair. The room is tidy, well organised, with neat stacks of open case files on the desk, colour-coordinated binders arranged neatly on the shelves, and framed certifications on the wall. After a few minutes, Sergeant Mills comes in, with a look of combined humour and disapproval at seeing Joanna sitting at her desk.
“You know, your disregard for the chain of command is the main reason you’re having trouble being promoted from a patrol officer.” Sergeant Mills says, closing the door behind her.
“What did the captain have to say? I assume he had plenty more to add once he was done reprimanding me. Let me guess, my sick-leave has been upgraded to suspension?” Joanna continued spinning around on the chair.
“Actually, since you still show promise and have been struggling lately, you’re back on Monday.”
Joanna stopped spinning, staring agape at Sergeant Mills. “You’re serious?! I can come back to work!”
“In the evidence locker to start with, no don’t give me that look. You acted recklessly, endangering yourself when you’re still officially on sick leave. So, either put up with the boredom of the evidence locker to be back at work, or have your sick-leave extended until the end of the month.” Sergeant Mills put on a stern expression, walking up behind her desk and gently tipping Joanna forward out of her chair.
Joanna laughed, “Alright, alright. How long have I been sentenced to the locker?”
“At least until you’ve been given the all-clear for light duty from the doctor. And even then, you’ll be moved to desk duty, not out in the field.” Sergeant Mills replied, sitting down, making tiny adjustments to the bits and bobs on her desk.
Joanna sighed, before smiling. “Alright, it’s better than nothing. Thanks, Mags.”
“Sure thing, Jo. Do you need a lift back home?”
“Nah, it’s cool. Reynolds is taking me.”
“Alright. I’ll drop by tomorrow.”
Joanna nodded, then left the office.
Patient Number Five: Lena Bleu.
It’s late when I return to check on Lena. She’s fast asleep, clutching Indigo tightly to her chest. She’s so sweet. I never had any siblings when I was alive. There were a few other kids in the various foster homes I grew up in, but I never really got close to them. Seeing Lena reminds me of how lonely I was at her age.
Faintly, I hear the front door open, and voices outside. With Lena being asleep, everything sounds fuzzy, but I can just make out a conversation if I concentrate…
“Sorry we’re back so late, Georgia. I had an awful customer I had to clean up after.” I hear Lena’s mom saying to the old woman who had been watching Lena.
“Not to worry, Maya. I put Lena to bed about an hour ago. There’s lasagne in the fridge too, plenty for you both. Make sure you eat before you go to bed. You look like you’re wasting away, poor dears.” I hear the old woman, Georgia, leave, then it’s just Lena’s parents in the kitchen.
I faintly hear them moving about, getting plates, warming up the food in the microwave. “She’s right, you know. You’re looking almost as thin as Lena when she first went into hospital.” I hear Lena’s dad say while they eat.
“You’re not looking much better, Bill. Have we got enough for the latest hospital bill?”
“Just. It’s helped that Georgia and Mack have been giving us so much food, bless them. Don’t know what we’d do without them.”
“I hate relying on them so much. I hope they don’t feel like we’re taking advantage of them.”
“Please, they get upset when we turn away their help, remember?” Bill laughs.
“What about the other bills? And the rent? It’s getting colder, we can’t afford for the heating to go and Lena to get sick.”
“I know. We’ve got enough for the bills, and I’ve spoken to the landlord. She’s alright with us paying half rent this month if I paint over the cracks on the 7th floor corridor.”
Their voices seem to be getting louder, and it’s only when I see Lena approaching her bedroom door do I realise she’s woken up.
“Mommy? Daddy?”
She sleepily calls out to them, rubbing her eyes.
“Oh, Lena, honey! I’m sorry, did we wake you?” Maya rushes to her daughter.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get you back to bed.” Bill picks up his daughter and gently tucks her in. “Sleep tight, Lena.”
Maya sits on her daughters’ bed, stroking her hair, and singing a lullaby.
The melody is sweet and lilting, the sound becoming fainter and fuzzy, as Lena falls asleep once more.
Comments (1)
See all