Wake up, husband. Please, for me...
Eyes flaring, I gasp in shock and look around in confusion. Panting heavily, it takes me a while to familiarize myself with my surroundings. I’m strapped to a bed, a needle buried in the vein of my arm and my hip aches like a motherfucker. Lights blink over my body, hurting my eyes and the smell of rubbing alcohol and floor polish hurts my head.
Groaning, I try to stir when I catch a movement in the corner.
“Lay still,” a plump, middle aged nurse calls. Running over to me, she checks my vitals while I blink and struggle to speak. “My name’s Hilma,” the nurse murmurs, “and you just hold on tight until doc comes.” A minute later a doctor runs inside the room. He does a quick, impatient examination and I frown in anger when he shines a small flashlight into my eyes.
For some reason, I’m tempted to punch him right in the face and for some reason the deed feels very familiar to me.
“Do you know your name?” he asks and I open my mouth to reply but there’s no answer. Thing is, I don’t know my name and I shake my head. “John Doe it is,” doc sighs while the nurse runs around, tending to me and all I want to do is get out of this damn bed.
“Why m...here...?” I slur but they understand what I’m trying to say, explaining that I was in an accident. The paramedics fished me out of a ravine. I was unconscious, my hip so bruised up they think I fell from a great height. They couldn’t revive me and I’ve been in a coma for four weeks.
There was nobody they could notify. I had no ID on me and nobody called the hospital asking for someone who would fit my description. I want to laugh deliriously because they couldn’t be more wrong. I dohavesomeone. My wife must’ve been worried sick about me, she must have been here...visiting me but they say I’ve had no visitors.
Grunting, I try moving around but they keep telling me I need to stay put. They need to do some tests and agitation washes over me. I want to get the hell out of here. Track down my wife, wrap my arms around her and plant a hot kiss on those lips of hers. I remember those lips with the deep cupid’s bow and that pale pink color like she’s been kissing crushed roses and dusted sugar. Licking my mouth, I rasp,
“You have a wife?” the nurse asks, pleasantly surprised and she claps her hands. “Well, that’s wonderful.”
I nod, reciting her number that my brain’s memorized above all other important things.
That’s my wife with the tight, little body and the badly behaved eyes.
A wicked, little thing that makes my blood boil and bubble. Trouble is what she is, always forcing me to chase her until I’m out of breath and my heart close to detonating in my chest. She renders me in pieces, only she’s allowed to pick up between her delicate fingers.
Longing rips through me like a bonfire and I groan at the ache. I can’t wait to hold her, whisper in her ear that I woke up solely for her. She brought me out of the darkness and into the light and I miss her so damn much it feels like I’m crumbling without her.
The nurse frowns nervously while she calls and I turn worried. What’s the big deal? I reach out with my hand, gesturing that I want to be the first one hearing Autumn’s voice but the nurse shakes her head. “She’s not picking up,” she says, her tone full of pity. “The phone’s dead.”
Tensing, I fidget when adrenaline shoots down my legs. I need to find her. She could be hurt somewhere, waiting for me to save her and I tug at the covers. Doc and the nurse immediately protest but I snarl at them to leave me alone. I’m still slurring, my movements too slow and I need to regain my strength if I’ll able to retrieve Autumn.
Only with her by my side will I regenerate and recover my health. I’m mad with longing for her and it overrides some of the concern I feel about her absence. Where is she? My wife would never have left me and gone with another man. While I know I haven’t been of much use laying in a coma, I know I have a wife who’s the loyal kind.
I have memories of her, strolling in the grocery shop while leisurely inspecting the shelves. She browses for fun because in the end she always gets the same stuff, because she’s dedicated like that. All vegan products, cherry chewing gum and a ton of salty crackers. And not to mention her laughter...
Fresh and lush like summer’s rain and my eyes turn hooded.
The memories of her are energizing but they won’t be able to sustain me for long and I make an effort to get up, cursing when the needle moves around under my skin. I need to get that thing out. Doc has left the room and nurse is humming to herself in the corner, her eyes on a computer and I glance out into the hallway.
An old man pushing a walker, diligently strolls by and I grind my teeth before wrapping my hand around the needle and yank it right out. A small stream of blood pours out but I ignore it just like I do the nurse when she cries,
“You can’t do that! Get back into bed at once before I call the doctor!”
She can call whoever she wants. Fuck, I don’t care if the entire CIA occupies this building as long as I find my wife. I’m unable to walk straight and shrug off the nurse when she tries helping me. Out in the hallway, I’m forced to use the wall for balance and I blink, struggling to see clearly.
There’s too much noise. Too much talking and laughter and I nearly get run over by a kid and his dad who’s carrying a balloon, sayingIt’s a girl.Pinching the bridge of my nose, I groan when nausea washes over me from all the turmoil. My brain’s been fried for weeks and its having a tough time keeping up but the thought of Autumn makes it easier. Tracing the white walls with my hands, I stop for a second when my legs tremble. The nurse yells something in the distance but I zone out.
The world doesn’t matter. What matters is Autumn.
I’m coming for you, sweet cheeks...