Chapter 2: Recovery-2
514 Words
When I awoke again, the pain, which had returned, was at least less. I heard a metal door slam elsewhere in the station, heard it being bolted, and then, after a while, footsteps approaching.
“Well,” he said. “I re-fueled your plane.”
“Oh…ah, thanks.”
“And I fixed the leak in your fuel line.” There was a pregnant pause, then, “There were…holes in the fuselage. You were shot at?”
“Yeah,” I said, feeling my stomach tighten slightly.
I waited for further questions, but he only said, “Oh.” Then, after a pause, he added, “My name’s Matt, by the way.”
“I’m Jens.” I held out my hand and, to my relief, I felt him grasp it, and we shook.
“You came from the north?” he said.
“Yeah! How did you know?”
“Well, your snow blindness. You arrived just after noon, and the light’s the harshest when flying toward the sun—south.”
“Oh,” I said.
I had the distinct impression Matt would have liked me to say where I was flying from, but I wasn’t going to volunteer the information. Not until I knew more about the guy…and the situation.
“How’s the pain?”
“Better.”
“Another shot?”
I laughed. “You’re quick with the drugs! I don’t want to get addicted.”
He grunted. “Pain’s no joke.” Then, as though to himself, “I don’t like pain.”
“Right there with you. How long till I can try taking off the blind?”
“Well, I don’t know. Maybe another twenty-four hours, in dim lighting.”
“Maybe I should take the shot then,” I said jokingly.
“Your choice.”
“Or something to eat.”
Matt laughed. “Now you’re talking! Wait here while I rustle up some grub.”
“Sounds good.” I lay back on the mattress and tried not to fantasize about another injection for the pain.
When he returned some time later, I sat up, which took a bit of an effort. I felt his hand take hold of mine.
“I’ll lead you.”
He led me, his hand big and gentle, through the station. The smell of food grew, and I decided we must have arrived.
“Here,” he said, turning me. “You can sit down here.”
I did so, reaching behind me for the chair back.
The first course was chicken soup, with crackers.
“Delicious!” I said when I had finished.
“How about some eggs and beans?”
“Sure!”
The eggs, which must have been from powder, had been mixed with canned milk and spiced so that they too were delicious. And, with the beans, made a good meal.
When I sat back at last, Matt put a mug down on the table in front of me and guided my hand to it.
“Coffee,” he said.
“Thanks!”
I sipped. He had added cream and sugar, just as I liked, and I cradled the warm mug in my hands between sips.
“So, I filled up your plane,” he said.
“Oh, yeah. You said. Uh…thanks.”
“So, when your eyes are better you can—you know—continue on your way.”
I nodded. The remarks seemed odd. Clearly, he was eager to get rid of me, but there was something in the tone I couldn’t quite understand. Regret? Sadness? I wasn’t sure.
“Thanks!” I repeated.
After another silence he said, “Look, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention meeting me here.”
I considered this, nodded.
“Sure,” I said. “None of my business.”
“Thanks,” he murmured. He sounded relieved, but sad too. I felt more bewildered than ever.
After the meal I said I would like to lie down again. Matt suggested Tylenol if I needed it, rather than more shots.
“They can be addictive.”
I nodded.
And so I lay down, took the Tylenol, and slept.
- Writer
