Testing Vickie

Chapter Eighteen

It is him! It is my Nick. I guess it’s nice he cares for me. These voices in my head, they aren’t stopping. How do I make them stop? Can I make them stop?

‘we’re nearly at a port…how is Vickie…I bet I could get her…’

I pad around on the boat. I can still use everything. I went into the kitchen and played around with the spoons and forks. Maureen came down suspicious of the noise and I almost run out of room to dodge out of the way. I sneak out as Maureen is preparing dinner and find Nick still sitting there by my unconscious side. That is really sweet. Then it hits me. He proposed to me in my twenty six year old self, this is my sixteen year old self. If I can math right, that equals to ten years. He’s known me for ten years and more. So this is how we met.

‘ow that hurt me…when will she wake…EVERYBODY OFF THE BOAT FOR GOD’S SAKE’

I think that they’re leaving the boat. What about me? I can’t leave this boat. I go up to the top deck and see Padd and the father getting off the boat.

“What do I do about Vickie? I can’t leave her on the boat can I?” I hear Nick ask, presumably Maureen.

“I guess we’ll have to bring her off the boat and take her to the hospital. Or the police.” I panic at that, what would the police do? The hospital would only delay the police. Only delay the inevitable. I watch him lift me up, so gently as if I’d break and I feel a tug as he moves off the boat, to follow, to stay with me.

They take me to the hospital and now I’m stuck there. Great. Thankfully Nick stays with me and keeps the hospital life interesting.

“Well,” He takes my hand on the side of my bed. “they’ve given you liquid nutrients to keep you fed, and hydrated.”

‘Then why should I stay here? I could leave now, she’s taken care of. Then why am I still here?’

Why is he still here? Wouldn’t it be better to just leave now and go back to his family? He takes my hand, kisses it then holds it to his cheek. He looks so tired. I stand next to him. Sleep, I think. It’s ok to sleep.

He falls asleep on my hand and kisses it again.

That sir, could be s****l harassment. Except, I’m more than happy for Nick to kiss my hand.

I wander from where my body is and take a look at where the other patients are and why they’re in the hospital. There’s a lady who is in an operation. She looks like the type of person who would go to the beach every weekend after work just to lay there in the sand in a skimpy bikini tanning. I move away from the OR’s and go to the emergency room. A man came in with a massive burn on his leg. His wife, sister, maybe girlfriend, sits beside him as a doctor tends to his burns. He looks like he hikes every morning, clears his mind and meditates. Especially with that long hippie hair.

‘as we forgive those who trespass against us, amen… Jerry, honey stay alive…she survived…’

I wander further and enter a patient’s room. Another woman. Pretty hair, a singer. She’s in a coma and has the tubes I have to feed and hydrate. I wander around more and I see the other people walking around the waiting area. I see a woman there singing.

‘When I’m gone, when I’m gone. You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.’

She has a lovely voice. Then she stops.

“Hello there dearie! You look a little lost!” Is, is she talking to me? I look around me. “Yes you dearie! The one with the tattoo!” I look down, oh. I don’t have that jumper on.

“You, you can see me?”

“And hear you!” She laughs, I chuckle with her.

“How?”

“Well, the doctors and the rest of my family all think that it’s a condition, a sick one at that. But I see it as a gift. I hear all. Even you” A gift? But, I can’t control it. It’s hardly a gift.

“How do you see it as a gift?”

“Ahhh let’s not talk about that now. I want to get to know you.” Know me?

“Haha, know me. I don’t even know myself!” Something about this woman makes me feel safe, makes me feel cared for and even loved. That motherly sort of love that I feel was missing. Not saying that my mother didn’t love me but it was more of a, sisterly love.

“Sure you do! Take some time and reflect down in yourself. Search your feelings, how do you feel?”

“How about you? Tell me about you?”

“Well, my name is Arriane, I had a daughter but lost her sixteen years ago, had an unsuccessful singing career and am single and so ready to MINGLE!”

“Oh. A daughter? Sixteen years ago…? I’m sixteen.”

“Oh,” A downcast look dawns onto her face. “You know, they sent me a photo of her from the day she started school. I have it somewhere in my purse. Would you be a dear and get it for me from my room?”

“Oh, uh. Your room?”

“Yes, 859.”

“Sure. I guess…” I go to 859 and see the woman with pretty hair. This is her? I search the room and find the purse in the patients chair next to her. “Here’s your purse.”

She digs through it and amidst a lot of receipts, cards and shopping lists, brings out a single photo. I stare at the little girl, five years old, smiling a cheeky grin, the bottom two teeth missing. Her self-cut fringe hanging in jagged bits across her forehead.

“Arriane. That girl, in the photo. That’s me.” She stares at me. Deep into my eyes, as if she was seeing my soul.

“Child, what is your name?”

“Victoria, Victoria Bones.”

“Hmmm, that was not the name I gave you.”

“What did you name me?”