It is the third day I am in the hospital. The pain has
drastically subsided but they are still running a bevy of tests to discern
what spawned the abdominal flare up.
Kristina has come in everyday after class, seated on the side of my bed,
buckled in the fleshy loops of my arms. Patrick comes in at odd times, often
when I am asleep, standing in the corner scrutinizing the reflection of himself
in the window, lost, looking at the albino silhouette of his body accompanied
by the swill and hush of traffic below.
There is a clack at the door. Jackie marches in saying my name as if she has just accidentally run over a pet. In her hand she is holding a get-well carnation like a baton. Next to her is a girl with short black hair and semi-tanned skin I have never seen before.
Kitty smiles and waves. The girl with the short black hair looks down, offering a shy smile into the bleached linoleum of the hospital floors. As if rehearsed Jackie begins a string of oh-my-gods-I-can't believe-you-are-in-the-hospital-what-happen-are-you-alright's before handing me the white carnation. Employing the same solicitous run-on sentence before telling me to read the tag attached to the stem of the botanical limb.
It is written in cursive. I read it aloud:
"Get well soon Dave--Happy City of Orgies!!!"
Kitty blushes and looks down in the same direction as Jackie's friend. Jackie says it is from that Walt Whitman poem that I am always quoting over cigarettes and 99cent incessant refills at Lums. At the word 'Orgy' Patrick offers out an almost David Hale-like whoo-hoo, before adding a can you imagine a big metropolitan city like New York or something where everyone is always inside each other while riding the subway to work and shit, immediately apologizing when he realizes that Kitty is shooting his a 'this-is-uncouth-hospital conversation' scowl.
Jackie places her hand down on the cap of my knee. She then says the fourth vowel oh and points like a game show hostess to the black haired creature standing next to her.
"By the way, this is Nikki."
She looks up for a second. I reach up my had and tell her it is a pleasure to meet her.
She smiles in my direction again. Patrick says something about maybe going outside real quick for a cigarette the girls follow. Jackie gives me a hug while simultaneously completely ignoring Kitty.
The trio leaves. Kitty turns into my direction and squeezes me tight.
"I think she's still upset with me?"
I ask why.
"The day after prom while we were at Hale's and I made you leave because everyone was underage and drinking. I think she thinks I am just up tight."
"You are not uptight." I tell Kitty Pekowski, reeling her in closer, kissing the back of her neck, telling her that even though I've been subjected to so much pain this week and I have more antibiotics flooded into my system than a pharmacy, it has simply, somehow, been one of the greatest weeks of my life.
"I mean, every day someone comes in and sees me. Every day you sit on the bed next to me. It makes me feel so special. I felt like shit all senior year. I've been fucked up, practically suicidal, did not think I would ever make it through the tempest to the port so to speak and here I am surrounded by everyone I love. It just makes me feel...."
I grope Kitty's waistline even tighter. I feel her smile. When I look up I see she is looking at the tag on the flower Jackie gave me. Perhaps she is wondering what the word orgy even means.
There is a clack at the door. Jackie marches in saying my name as if she has just accidentally run over a pet. In her hand she is holding a get-well carnation like a baton. Next to her is a girl with short black hair and semi-tanned skin I have never seen before.
Kitty smiles and waves. The girl with the short black hair looks down, offering a shy smile into the bleached linoleum of the hospital floors. As if rehearsed Jackie begins a string of oh-my-gods-I-can't believe-you-are-in-the-hospital-what-happen-are-you-alright's before handing me the white carnation. Employing the same solicitous run-on sentence before telling me to read the tag attached to the stem of the botanical limb.
It is written in cursive. I read it aloud:
"Get well soon Dave--Happy City of Orgies!!!"
Kitty blushes and looks down in the same direction as Jackie's friend. Jackie says it is from that Walt Whitman poem that I am always quoting over cigarettes and 99cent incessant refills at Lums. At the word 'Orgy' Patrick offers out an almost David Hale-like whoo-hoo, before adding a can you imagine a big metropolitan city like New York or something where everyone is always inside each other while riding the subway to work and shit, immediately apologizing when he realizes that Kitty is shooting his a 'this-is-uncouth-hospital conversation' scowl.
Jackie places her hand down on the cap of my knee. She then says the fourth vowel oh and points like a game show hostess to the black haired creature standing next to her.
"By the way, this is Nikki."
She looks up for a second. I reach up my had and tell her it is a pleasure to meet her.
She smiles in my direction again. Patrick says something about maybe going outside real quick for a cigarette the girls follow. Jackie gives me a hug while simultaneously completely ignoring Kitty.
The trio leaves. Kitty turns into my direction and squeezes me tight.
"I think she's still upset with me?"
I ask why.
"The day after prom while we were at Hale's and I made you leave because everyone was underage and drinking. I think she thinks I am just up tight."
"You are not uptight." I tell Kitty Pekowski, reeling her in closer, kissing the back of her neck, telling her that even though I've been subjected to so much pain this week and I have more antibiotics flooded into my system than a pharmacy, it has simply, somehow, been one of the greatest weeks of my life.
"I mean, every day someone comes in and sees me. Every day you sit on the bed next to me. It makes me feel so special. I felt like shit all senior year. I've been fucked up, practically suicidal, did not think I would ever make it through the tempest to the port so to speak and here I am surrounded by everyone I love. It just makes me feel...."
I grope Kitty's waistline even tighter. I feel her smile. When I look up I see she is looking at the tag on the flower Jackie gave me. Perhaps she is wondering what the word orgy even means.
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