My Stranger
I must be pretty wonderful, was all I could figure. Other than that, I didn't have a clue as to who I was, what I did, where I was from, or why I was here in the hospital. But I could see the flowers, wall-to-wall, the fragrance crowding out the room's air, making me wax floral in the warmth and well-wishes from loved ones. I must have had a very large and loving family. This many flowers were usually reserved for hero-worship. That can't be bad, I thought to myself. I must be pretty wonderful.
Such a person I must be! I couldn't wait to meet myself, although I knew whoever I was, was a stranger to me now. I reached to feel the bandaging around my head. Apparently what put me in this hospital suite was also what took away all my memory. And what a suite this was! A private, spacious, extravagant hospital room. This had to be way beyond PPO. I eyed the meal on the tray. Salmon covered in caviar and a glass of white wine. Silver utensils and china.
I had a thick dressing on my belly, clean and dry--must have been changed recently. I wondered if I'm ready for such epicurean dining with evidence of serious abdominal mayhem on my body. My cast on my arm was awash in well-wishes, sentiments, and endearments. "Way to go!" "Hoping you a speedy recovery so you can resume your important work." "You have inspired me." The signors are unknown to me. A pretty nurse comes in. She asks me if I'm O.K. and what my pain scale is.
"Who am I?" I asked.
"Excuse me?" she replied.
"Who am I? What happened to me?" She went a little pale and bit her lip. She took a deep breath and finally spoke.
"I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to discuss anything with you at this time." She cast a nervous glance toward the floor.
"Does everyone here eat like this?" I asked. She re-covered the entree.
"Oh, no, that was sent to you by one of your friends." She looked at the entrance to the room, and I followed her gaze to see a uniformed policeman peaking in. "But I will tell you this..." she continued, "you won't be getting food like this anymore. We've been instructed to take away all of these flowers and recast your arm. No more visitors, either."
"Why?" I ask. If I'm this wonderful, I thought, then why the cold shoulder here. Certainly I was entitled to some answers, right? The policeman walked in, while another peaked in from outside. How many cops were out there? and why? I must be very important, I realized, being so well protected. A pretty big shot. I was pleased.
"Hello."
"Hello, yourself," I said.
"The nurse is right. We're going to clear all of this crap out of here." He wasn't speaking very nicely to me. Didn't he know who I was!
"Why?"
"Well, sir, let's look at your arm cast. I think the autographs here say it all."
"I'm sorry, I don't follow." The policeman picked up my arm and began to read aloud.
"Way to go! signed by Anthony Morocco."
"And who is he?"
"He is the head of the Neo-Nazis of Chicago."
"What would someone like that have to do with me?"
"Hoping you a speedy recovery so you can resume your important work. Signed, Howard Rafter, the Grand Wizard of the Mississippi Ku Klux Klan." I close my eyes hoping to awake from this dream.
"I don't know him," I protest angrily.
"Yea, right. Then there's You have inspired me, signed by Petey Pedersen."
"Don't know him, either. What's going on here. Who's he? These are all strangers to me."
"You're no stranger to them. Petey Pedersen's the guy who two days after putting this on your arm went and murdered 17 people at a church revival tent last Thursday. Glad you could inspire him." My heart sank. "Don't worry, we're all safe and sound from you now, courtesy of a few bullets from the men in blue." I was terrified to ask, but I did.
"Exactly how did I inspire him?" The officer looked at the nurse then back to me.
"By doing for Jews what Petey Pedersen did for African-Americans." He paused, then looked back again at nurse. "C'mon, let's clear all this out."
"If I'm who you say I am, how did these people get in? To sign my cast? To bring my flowers?"
"Oh, we finally have a judge not on your payroll. There won't be any more court ordered visitors for your autographs anymore."
"I don't understand. How could I be such a monster?" I asked. "Why would there be so many flowers for someone like me?
"They were sent," replied the policeman, "by--"
"--By all the other monsters," the nurse finished. She picked up a flower arrangement in each arm and walked out of the room. That's when I noticed the ankle cuff chained to my bed.