Cabin Fever(73)

 

“Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate your help.” My tears finally stop.

 

There are hands all over me. I think two of them are Jeremy’s when I hear him speak just next to me. “Here you go. Just come towards my voice. I’m on the other side of the bed. I’m going to help you up.”

 

“Sir, we can do it. Just step back.”

 

“No, I’m helping. She needs me.”

 

“It’s okay if he helps,” I say, my heart warming at his protective tone.

 

I settle onto my back on the bed, but a nurse holds my shoulder. “Don’t lie down. We need you to stay sitting up.”

 

“Good,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. “Because it was bugging my eyes to lie down.”

 

“That’s the pressure. We’ll get rid of that for you soon.”

 

“Are you going to stick a needle in my eye?”

 

“The doctor will be right in to examine you, don’t worry.”

 

I turn my head to face where I think Jeremy is. “I think that means Yes.”

 

The woman pats my hand. “No one’s going to stick a needle in anyone’s eye. Just relax.” She squeezes me once. “I’ll be right back to start an IV.”

 

“I hate IVs.”

 

“Haven’t met a single person who liked ‘em yet,” she says, and then her squeaky footsteps fade out.

 

“I’m going to call my brother now.” Jeremy sounds nervous. Concerned. I wish I were in a better position to comfort him.

 

I nod, afraid of what I’ll say if I speak. I’ve never felt so needy and weak. All I want to know is Why? Why did this happen to me? What did I do wrong? Is this the universe telling me that I shouldn’t be painting anymore? I sure have gotten enough signs of that lately. The idea is positively depressing. Without painting, I’m not even sure who I am. It’s been a part of who I am my whole life.

 

I let my head slump down to my chest and focus on breathing past the pressure building behind my eyes. Jeremy’s voice filters in as if I’m dreaming it.

 

“James, hey. It’s me. Jeremy. Yeah, I know, but listen, I have an emergency here, and I need your help.”

 

Silence, and then a sigh.

 

“No, it’s not about me, all right? Just listen, Jesus. You know that girl, Sarah, the one you loaned the cabin to? Yeah, I met her. I’ve been with her for the past few days.”

 

“I know; it was a great place to hide. But that’s not why I’m calling. I came back early this morning to Manhattan to talk to you guys about everything that’s been going on with me, but before I could get there, I got a call from Sarah about an emergency she was having.”

 

Silence.

 

“No, not with the cabin, a medical one. I’ve brought her to the closest ER, and the nurse said something about detached retinas.”

 

Silence.

 

Jeremy leaves the area and drops his voice, but I can still hear him. My ears have superpowers now that my ability to see has been taken away.

 

“She can’t see anything and the whites of her eyes are blood-red. Seriously. Like demon-eyes or something.”

 

I reach up and touch my eyelids again. Demon eyes? Oh my god! That’s worse than I imagined! I start crying all over again, knowing in my heart that I’m going to be blind forever. And with demon eyes to boot. I’ll never get married. I’ll have to live in some kind of residence home with around-the-clock nurses. I won’t even be able to play checkers with the other patients, because I won’t be able to see the board. Not that they’d want to play checkers with a demon-eyed woman. I wonder if my tears are saline or blood. My life is utter shit. And for a while there, I thought it couldn’t get any worse. Wrong! Wrong again!

 

“All right. Okay. Yeah, I’ll call you as soon as the doctor comes in. They said he’d be here soon.”

 

Silence. Then Jeremy’s voice is clearer. Closer. He’s next to my bed again. His fingers find mine and hang on. I don’t return the pressure, though. I know he just feels sorry for me. I don’t want him to think I’m going to hold him to any more than necessary. He’s just a Good Samaritan, that’s it.

 

Someone pushes a curtain sideways, making the metal parts zing across their track. “So, who do we have here? I don’t have any paperwork yet, if you can believe that.” He sounds way too chipper to be looking at a demon.

 

“I’m Sarah Booker. I don’t live around here.” I have no idea why I said that part about where I live. My mind is short-circuiting.