beauty within things
sight /noun
the faculty or power of seeing
a thing that one sees or that can be seen
The next day I was once again at the hospital. Walking through the halls of the building and working out what the hell was wrong with me. Funny, I thought I had given up on that by now. I visited Charlie early in the morning, pretty much desperate for his healing touch; the voices in my head acting like a self-destructive tornado, working in every possible way against me. I spent almost the entire night at my flat, wallowing at my own fate and the unfairness of it all. Not answering any of his phone calls. The only good thing about the entire situation was that I managed to find my beaten-up cellphone and send him a text without the need to actually talk to him and hear the guilt-tripping concern in his voice. The simple text stated: “It’s all right, really”.
Not surprisingly those few words weren’t enough, so I had to take some time to then answer his multiple questions; assuring him that it was really me and not just some kind of prank. It took a lot of persuading him not to come over. I just couldn’t face him back then. I needed a second to breathe, just for myself. And the pain, well, I managed to work with that. The first time I met Charlie, it was at least three times harder. This I could manage. I could pretend that it didn’t bother me, almost like it wasn’t there.
Almost.
I went there the next day and headed to him straight away. We talked for a bit, over a spaghetti lunch while he held my wrist, ignoring the curious stares that he got. He told me about his day and the patients that he dealt with it. And after about 15 minutes he mentioned Mrs. Wilson. I remember pulling my hand out of his grasp and getting more animated with my lunch. I didn’t mention to him that I knew her and met her just the other day. I almost didn’t react at all. I just nodded my head. Pretending that I wasn’t that much interested in the subject. I was just waiting for him to finish, eating my food even faster than usual. He ignored my unusual behavior and kept talking, probably used to me acting in such a peculiar way.
He said that there seemed to be some minor improvement and quickly moved on to a different patient, leaving Mrs. Wilson behind. Well, he did anyway; but not me. I could feel my mind almost blazing with curiosity. My attention was drawn to the floor above us. I nodded to all his words and mimic his reactions. Annoyance, irritation, gratitude. I mirrored it perfectly, waiting for him to finish. Finally, his lunch break had finished. He quickly gave me a peck on the cheek and ran off. I felt the skin on my cheek tingle, but I didn’t give it another thought. I was more or less used to his closeness by now. And at this moment my mind was focused on something else.
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Some time later I went into her room, not bothered by anyone. I stood next to her bed for a while as she slept and then I gazed down. My eyes staring at the metal chart hanging to the front of the bed’s frame. I picked it up and studied it. I didn’t really understand the medical jargon, so I just focused on the basic information. “Mrs. Clare Wilson. Age 84. Female.” I stared at those words as if they held all the answers to the universe. My eyes almost burning a hole in the paper and melting the metal underneath. I sighed, feeling somewhat deflated, and then put it back in place.
I sat on the chair next to the bed on the right side and crossed my arms, irritated. I was so angry with myself for not understanding the situation, for not having the answers I needed, and most of all for feeling helpless in all of this. And that’s what I hated the most. Feeling helpless. I started to tap my fingers against the metal chair, counting the seconds that passed in my head. And then I just got up, almost dropping the heavy chair to the ground; storming out of the room and leaning my forehead against the wall. Energy flowing in my body, no pain, just good old fashion irritation. I took a couple of deep breaths and searched for the room that Joan described to me. I looked around somehow almost boiling on the inside, the task taking me more time than I originally thought it would. Somehow, I managed to get lost twice.
Finally, after about ten minutes I managed to find it. It looked exactly how the nurse said it would, a small room filled with books, a few tables, and chairs. I walked in and notice a small group of children in the room and one bored teenage girl, she looked about fifteen. They were all in their pajamas and hospital robes. The kids sitting by a small low table and doing puzzles or drawing. The teenage girl sitting on a chair by a big window, her feet up and settled on a windowsill. She pretended to read a book, but I heard music blasting away from her headphones. My gaze focusing on the scene for a moment and noticing every little detail; seeing a sort of strange beauty in it. I instantly regretted not having a camera with me. The need to capture this moment almost overwhelming. My fingers twitched, practically feeling the invisible camera in my hand. My body stiffening, as my eyes took everything in.
Just the way the grey light fell through the window, the way the girl’s body was positioned and how out of focus her stare was. Almost like looking at a painting, but in modern surroundings. My stare glided over the lines of her profile and the dark circles under the eyes. She seemed that she might have lost some weight while she was here. Her pajamas hung loosely from her body, thick purple socks wrapped around the legs of the pants. But other than the visible tiredness and slim features, she looked just like any other teenager; especially the attitude. As if she was above all the crap that was life. I smiled faintly; just like looking into a mirror. I stood there silently, watching as she turned another page of the book, not really reading it.
If only I could take a picture right now. The words bounced around in my head while I narrowed my eyes at the unexpected thought. It was a long time since I thought of something as trivial as taking photos. A very, very long time. Because, as well as being a bartender, I was also a photographer, which meant I saw the world in a slightly different way than everybody else. I noticed beauty in things that others ignored - I closed my eyes shut for a moment - or at least I used to.
I tried to let go of my daydreaming as a sudden thought hit me. I found my phone yesterday (it was in really bad shape). I had it when I was sending all those texts to Charlie, and I automatically...
I slipped my hand into my old green bag, as my fingers moving with anticipation. Finally, I reached a small rectangular shape, smiled with satisfaction and took my cell out. I lifted it and look for the camera icon; choosing it and moving the phone at the right angle. I stared at the window and waited a moment for a good light; at the same time turning all of the sounds off, so nothing gave me away. Spying and stalking were really hard to explain unless you got a big plastic card stating “photographer” on it. I concentrated on not breathing too loud and on my task; a low buzz of adrenaline rushing my blood as I took several pictures of the scene, maneuvering with new angles while making it seem that I was just checking something on my phone.
And then I noticed the girl changing her position; a frown appearing on her face. My heart started to accelerate but then I saw that her reaction wasn’t centered on me. I slid the phone back to my bag and acted like pure innocence. Then my eyes shifted to the small table in the center of the room and glanced at a little boy sitting there. He seemed to be around eight, maybe nine years old; he had soft brown hair and blue pajamas with rockets on them. He eyed me suspiciously, I ignored the stare as if nothing happened and look back at the girl, a bit worried now.
She held her stomach, sudden nausea taking over, tiny drops of sweat forming on her forehead. I could see that her jaw was clenched, while she tried to take steady breaths through her nose. I watched as she slowly regained some of her composure, color coming back on her face. As if she won another small battle. I even saw a faint smile of victory forming on her lips, but it quickly disappeared, her stare once again out of focus. She put the book down and took out a small mp3 player. She played with it until I could almost hear the lyrics of the new song. With eyes closed, I listened to it intently and then walked up to her. I poked her on the shoulder. She looked up, surprised; pulling out one earplug.
Can I help you?
She stretched out the words, sarcasm spilling out of her lips like liquid honey. I just smile. I used that tone so often that it was like talking to family.
Is that ‘The Fray’?
She dropped the attitude for a moment, her eyebrows coming closer together.
Yeah, how did you know?
How could I not know it? It should be on any music list worth listening to.
I look down and notice that her book is covered in yellow paper. I don’t see any title, just a number on the side.
What’s the book about?
She shrugged her shoulders.
It’s just a book.
She was about to put the earplug back but then a nurse walked in. I looked at her closer. She seemed to be around sixty and had a short pixy haircut. She wore pink and white scrubs. Her stare was very impatient, eyes scanning the room until she found what she was looking for. She stared at the girl next to me with silent triumph.
Morgan? It’s time for the blood test and your medication.
I glanced at the girl. She sighed with consternation and stood up reluctantly; her feet dragging across the floor. I quickly picked up the book and handed it to her. She looked surprised again as if she forgot that she even had it.
No, I’m already done with it. Read it a million times. It’s all yours, have at it.
I gazed at her for a moment, when she passed the nurse as if the woman wasn’t even there and walked out of the room. I smirked, such character. My eyes fell down on the now open book and on its first page, eyebrows lifting. Well, of all the books in the world it just had to be this one. I shook my head slightly and went out into the hall, heading back to my patient.
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Back into the room again, I looked around. Cautious as always. Nope, just one person in here; no distractions then. I saw that she was still sleeping, but it didn’t really bother me much. I wasn’t here to start some big revolution and change the world as we know it. I was only here to read a book to someone that needed the company. I sighed as I sound ridiculous even to myself. I fell heavily on the chair and held the yellow cover close to my chest. Alright, might as well start what I came here for. I opened it on the first page and started to read.
‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife...’
My voice was nervous at first but then it turned steady as I fell into the rhythm of the story.
... however little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighborhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of someone or other of their daughters...”
After about 20 minutes, I stopped reading and looked up for a moment; my eyes staring directly into hers. She looked expectantly as if waiting for more. Seeming more awake than I have ever seen here. I breathed in slowly, as if not wanting to scare her away. I finally had her attention, and the knowledge seemed to overwhelm me somehow; the feeling of a small victory taking over. I quickly composed my features and stared questioningly at Clare Wilson. The older woman nodded at the book as if rushing me. I didn’t say anything, just turned another page and continued reading. My voice the only thing disrupting the silence.
“The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished; that of Mrs. Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though, when the first tumult of joy was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the while...”
My thoughts started to drift away again as I followed the scene between the Bennet family. After a while when my mind seemed to be finally at peace, the sound of faint steps broke the tranquil state and made me jump; my heart racing like crazy. The book fell down on the floor and landed under Mrs. Wilson’s bed.
Mind picking that up? It’s the hospital property.
I gazed at Joan as she walked past me and moved to the woman on the bed. She checked her pulse, nodded her head once and then looked at the chart. Another nod. She stared down at her patient and smiled kindly.
So how are we doing, sweetheart? Any better?
Mrs. Wilson turned her head to the side and stared at her nightstand, her eyes gazing blankly at the picture of her husband. I narrowed my eyes and peered coldly at Joan. All the effort and back to square one. I closed my eyes and breathed slower, trying to control my irritation. I wasn’t mad at the nurse that was just doing her job. I was mad at myself and the situation. Joan checked my expression and crossed her arms, suddenly seeming to be least two inches taller. Her stare getting a bit heavy and all professional like. Somehow I felt really small at that moment but managed to get myself back together rather quickly.
The visiting hours are almost over.
I got up and hid the book in my bag. I straightened my figure and returned the heavy stare; though mine was just an act meant especially for her.
Alright, I understand. You don’t have to be so subtle about it, Joan.
I took deliberate slow and steady steps, indicating that I’m in no rush and almost reached the door when I heard her voice again.
But come back tomorrow too, Eleonore.
I turned back surprised.
I think this will be good for her.
Joan shifted in her patient’s direction and gave her another warm smile, then returned the stare to me. She seemed amused now.
But the book stays here, or in the library. Hospital’s property as mentioned before.
I moved past her and put Pride and Prejudice on the nightstand next to the picture. Then I took a small bow, spreading my hands wide as if I was holding a big puffy dress and just left. I was pretty sure I heard a low chuckle on my way out. To be continued then, Bennet family; I still have a lot of work before me.
I got out of the hospital and bought a disposable camera on my way back. I ripped off the foil and started to notice the world around me once more. Without rush but definitely seeing it this time. I breathed in and out slowly, putting my tangled thoughts in order. One day at a time, Eleonore. One day at a time, and maybe you just might live through this nightmare longer than you thought.
Five minutes later an older couple walked past a park, holding hands. A camera clicked and a woman in a black leather jacket and with an old, frumpy looking green bag quickly disappeared into an alley.
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* The Fray is an American rock band from Denver, Colorado. They achieved success with the release of their debut album, How to Save a Life in 2005.
** Pride and Prejudice is an 1813 romantic novel by Jane Austen. It charts the emotional development of the protagonist Elizabeth Bennet, who learns the error of making hasty judgments and comes to appreciate the difference between the superficial and the essential.
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Last 3 chapters :
9. https://theprose.com/post/240928/games-in-the-dark
10. https://theprose.com/post/242510/action-reaction-kind-of-thing
11. https://theprose.com/post/252230/the-sounds-of-sorrow
next chapter :