I stumbled my way up the worn, carpeted stairs of Aunt Jenny’s small apartment building. It was one-thirty in the morning and I was drunk. My hand slipped off the doorknob more than once and, realizing it was locked, I dropped my purse so I could dig through the jumbled mess for my keys. I finally fished them out from the bottom. I wobbled when I stood, teetering on tall, black heels. The door swung open just as I reached for the lock.
“Orissa!” Aunt Jenny cried, her hand flying to her chest.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“It’s ok,” she breathed, looking relieved. “I just wasn’t expecting you so early. Well, early for you.”
Echoes of muffled, angry voices floated down the hall.
“They’ve been at it all night,” Aunt Jenny sighed and ushered me in.
“Did you wait up for me?” I asked, as I shakily removed my shoes.
“Yes, well, no. I told you I wasn’t going to keep tabs. But I worry.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Oh, yeah. And you can bail yourself out of jail.”
I glared at Aunt Jenny. “That was over a month ago. Can’t we please drop it?”
“Yes, sorry.” She shook her head. “You should have called me though. I would have picked you up.”
I shrugged. “Thanks, but I don’t want you to go out of your way. Maybe next time.” I tripped over the ottoman as I crossed the small living room.
“Had enough?” she asked, with just a hint of laughter in her voice.
“I,” I began, standing up straight, “was doing my part to stimulate the economy.” Well, I was doing my part to make sure others stimulated the economy. My money hadn’t paid for any of the liquor I’d consumed.
“I should have opened a bar,” Aunt Jenny joked. She gathered up her dishes from the coffee table. “Did you have fun at least?”
“Yes. I rocked karaoke. And I got two numbers.”
“Two?”
I smiled and nodded.
Aunt Jenny just laughed and shook her head. “So how come you came home early?”
“There was a fight,” I blurted, my filter turned off due to overindulgence in alcohol. There were always fights in bars. But this fight was…different. I had just talked to him, the tall guy in the blue shirt, before he snapped. We were having a good conversation—and he had bought me my third drink for the night—when he doubled over, holding his stomach, and complaining about being in pain. Not wanting to get puked on, I wandered to the other side of the bar where I could watch him from a distance. Then his pain had given over to rage, the kind of rage that brings to mind frothing dogs. No one knew what had caused it, but suddenly his hands wrapped around the bouncer’s throat. It took three guys to pull him off. Blue Shirt was sputtering, screaming, clawing; he even tried to bite the guy. I skipped out right as the police showed up. From the parking lot I watched them tase Blue Shirt to subdue him. “And my abs hurt,” I covered up, not wanting to discuss the fight.
“Your abs hurt?” Aunt Jenny raised an eyebrow incredulously.
“Yeah, I must have worked out too hard.” I put my hand over my right side; briefly I recalled Blue Shirt. His madness had started with pain, too. “I’m feeling kinda nauseous, so I’m gonna go to bed.”
“Ok, night. Remember I work in the morning, so I’ll see you after, alright?”
“Ok. Night.” I weaved my way to my tiny room, stripped out of my clothes, and collapsed onto the bed. Too tired to shower, I fell asleep, not waking until after ten the next morning—sick from more than a mere hangover.
* * *
The ER was so busy that I had to wait over an hour just to freaking get my blood drawn. Pissed, nauseous, and tired, I refused to put on the stupid paper robe. My nurse was old and it didn’t take ESP to sense that she wanted to retire. I wanted to tell her to get over herself and be thankful she at least had a job. Since the Depression had hit, many were in need of gainful employment. Seeing the needle in her hand made me change my mind.
I’m angry, I thought, but not like Blue Shirt. Who wouldn’t be angry? The ER wasn’t exactly a fun place to be.
“There’s no yes or no test,” the nurse explained, when she came back with the results another hour later. “Your white blood cell count is high, so you may need to have your appendix removed.”
The nurse then put in an order for a CT scan to confirm her suspicions. When she came back, after what felt like hours, she informed me that it was indeed appendicitis.
“Lovely.” I didn’t have health insurance and I sure as hell didn’t want to pay for surgery, but what choice did I have?
“Put this on,” she said gruffly, tossing the ugly robe on my bed. I rolled my eyes but obliged, wanting to get this whole thing over with. I was in a lot of pain by now, but I was also relieved to discover that it was only my appendix. I changed just in time for my crabby-ass nurse to retrieve me for surgery. I curiously looked around the hospital as she wheeled me down the hall. I made eye contact with a tall, dark haired man as he exited a room. I was instantly drawn to his big, blue eyes. He smiled politely at me, revealing perfect white teeth. I was so mesmerized by his beauty I barely noticed the green scrubs and lab coat he was wearing. If he was my doctor, surgery might not be so bad after all.
* * *
My mouth was dry. My head was fuzzy. I didn’t know why I was in so much pain, and I was beginning to forget where I was. My eyes just wouldn’t open so I listened and heard nothing. Every breath took effort and I tried to call out for help. But no one came. It felt like hours passed before I drifted back to sleep. When I woke up the second time, a young, dark skinned nurse was adjusting my IV.
“Good morning, Orissa!” she said brightly. “Surgery went well.”
“Did I really need it out?” Damn it, even though I had just woken up from surgery, money was still my main concern.
“Yes. It was close to bursting,” she informed me.
“Oh. Good, I guess.”
“Your mom is waiting outside. Do you want me to get her now?”
“My mom?”
“Petite, short brown hair…that’s not her?”
“No. She’s my aunt. Yes, she can come in.”
Aunt Jenny came in with a vase full of flowers. I wanted to glare at her and tell her it was a waste of money, but I only smiled, too weak to argue. She gushed over me for a bit, making sure everything was ok. She promised she’d be back after work even though I told her I’d be fine on my own. The hospital had cable, after all.
With the pain medication, my time spent in the hospital went by quickly. I caught a glimpse of the hot doctor again as I was leaving, making me wish I had come in my bar clothes rather than purple pajama pants.
* * *
For the next five days, I did nothing but park my ass on the couch or in bed. Since no new shows were being aired, I amused myself by watching reruns of Family Guy, flipping to the news stations during commercials.
I had nightmares about the broadcasts I had seen, many reporting a huge increase in unexplained deaths and small, and seemingly random, outbursts of violence across the country. Friends turned on friends, and one witness described her attacker’s behaviors as being like those of Blue Shirt. It freaked me out and made me very glad I had insisted on taking martial arts lessons instead of ballet like my mother had wished.
In the small hours, it occurred to me that I might be like Blue Shirt, like the people on the news. Maybe it was just moving through me slower. It. Whatever it was…
Did I feel my temper rising?
Only all the time…