Sorry this is a bit late, but as you will see it's a bit longer than the usual chapters. Hope you enjoy it.
* * *
Snow fell lightly
and was just beginning to stick to the ground when they wheeled Tom
out the front doors. He wanted to see if he could walk out on his
own, but the hospital had it's rules. Mike and Melanie were already
working on opening the car door while the nurse his wheelchair up to
the curb. From head to foot, Tom wore pressure garments that were
designed to shape his scarring into a more natural form. He'd have to
wear them for the next year or so, day and night, until his scarring
was set.
Tom lifted his face
to the falling snow, shutting his eyes and imagining what each tiny
flake should feel like.
“We can take that
mask off for a few minutes,” Mike said as he came over to help Tom
into the car.
The nurse looked
like she was about to scold Mike for even suggesting such a thing but
Tom waved her off.
“It won't make any
difference,” Tom said, “I still don't have any feeling.”
“None?” Melanie
asked, coming over to stand next to Mike.
Tom shook his head.
“But I thought
your doctors told you it would come back?”
“They said it
might,” Tom corrected her, “And it still might. Won't know for
certain until the scarring's done forming.”
“Can you feel
anything?” Melanie asked.
“Leave him alone,”
Mike butted in, “If we want to have time to visit Joan before
Mike's flight then we need to get him into the car and on our way.”
“Sorry,” Melanie
said, and together she and Mike helped Tom into the back seat.
“What time it it?”
Tom asked after a few minutes.
“Just past noon,”
Mike replied.
“And my flight's
at six?” Tom asked, a bit more nervous.
“Yeah,” Mike
said, “And you'll probably want to be there a couple hours early
because security has gotten ridiculous.”
“Hasn't it always
been?” Tom joked.
“Yeah, well,
you've missed a lot over the last several months that you've been in
the hospital.”
“Yeah, I heard
about all those nuclear power plants,” Tom said.
Mike and Melanie
looked at each other.
“What?” Tom
asked, “Did I miss something?”
“Yeah,” Melanie
said, looking back at Tom with a shocked expression on her face.
“Such as?” Tom
asked.
“Such as the
collapse of a dozen or so countries and the war over in Europe and
Asia because there's not enough oil to go around and the world's
running out of fuel.”
Tom sat bolt upright
in his seat. “What?”
“Yeah,” Mike
said, “I had to sell the book store because of it.”
“What?” Tom
exclaimed even louder.
“Seriously, Tom,”
Melanie said, “How could you not know this? It's about the only
thing they talk about on the news these days.”
Tom knew how he'd
missed it. He'd stopped watching the news, stopped reading the paper,
stopped asking people about the world outside his hospital room
whenever they came to visit because it was too depressing to hear how
bad things were getting. But he didn't think it would escalate this
far.
“Guess I was just
too busy with therapy,” Tom said.
They continued to
drive for some time. The snow began coming down more heavily and Mike
had to speed up the windshield wipers. Few other cars were out on the
road and it only served to remind Tom of how different the world was,
and how much he'd missed.
“At least
traffic's not so bad,” Tom remarked.
Mike and Melanie
managed meager laughs and Tom sank back into his chair.
“So how's Joan?”
Tom asked.
Again, Mike and
Melanie shared a look.
“You sure you want
to see her?” Mike asked.
If truth be told,
Tom wasn't sure. In the few times Melanie had come with Mike to visit
Tom in the hospital, she'd always danced around the subject of Joan.
She'd told him about Joan's new enclosure, from which Tom had guessed
Joan's fire was still getting worse, but other than that he hadn't
been able to learn much else.
“Tom?” Mike
said, bringing Tom out of his revery.
“Hmm, what?” Tom
asked.
“I asked if you
were sure you wanted to see Joan?”
“Yeah,” Tom
said, “Yeah, just to stop in and say hi.” Tom rubbed his gloved
hands together, still surprised by the lack of sensation, as he tried
to hide his trepidation. “I figure I won't be able to see her again
for a while, any way.”
“Yeah,” Mike
agreed, “We'll miss you.”
“I'll be back,
don't worry,” Tom assured him.
“We'll see how
desperate you are to come back once you've gotten use to your moms
cooking again and free rent.”
Tom smiled, or at
least he did what he thought approximated to a smile. The scaring and
nerve damage had a way of scrambling his expressions. Either way, Tom
figured it didn't matter since there wasn't anyone to see it.
“Yeah, let me tell
you,” Tom teased, “It's every grown mans wish to be living in his
parents basement.”
“It's too bad they
weren't able to fly out here and get you themselves,” Melanie said.
“Not surprising,
though,” Tom said, “Considering what you guys told me about the
price of gas I'm surprised they could afford to fly me home at all.”
Mike and Melanie
nodded solemnly and Tom followed suit, enjoying the freedom of life
outside the hospital while at the same time dreading its
uncertainties. In the hospital, at least, he knew what to expect. He
knew when his meals were, knew when his physical therapy would be.
He'd flirted with a number of his nurses and, even though his good
looks and perfect hair were now gone, a few of them even flirted
back. It was in that small world within a world that he found safety
and that was why he'd shut out the rest of the world. With his life
already in distress, he couldn't deal with the rest of the world
falling apart around him.
But now he had to
face that breaking world with its wars and fuel shortages and friends
with broken dreams.
Tom shut his eyes as
hot tears welled up in them. His eyes, the only part of him that
still had any feeling, the only part of him that wasn't burned by
Joan. He relished the sensation in his otherwise numb world but at
the same time he hated that it had to come from his gnawing anguish.
“We're here,”
Mike announced after some time and the car slowed to a stop.
Tom was about to
unbuckle his seat belt when Mike said, “Roll down your windows.”
Tom looked up and it
was then that he noticed there were armed guards standing on both
sides of the car. When Tom hesitated with his window, the guard
outside gave it a sharp rap with his knuckles.
“Sorry,” Tom
said once he'd unrolled his window, “Just got out of the hospital.”
“We're here to see
Joan,” Melanie said.
“Names?” The
guard at Melanie's window asked.
“This is my
boyfriend Mike,” Melanie said, pointing as she spoke, “And this
is Tom. He's an old friend of Joan's who just got out of the
hospital.” Melanie added when the guard gave Tom and his body suit
a double take. “We're on our way to drop him off at the airport and
thought we'd stop in to say hi to Joan.”
“I'm sorry
Melanie,” The guard said, “But we're not allowed to admit
visitors without prior authorization.”
“Seriously?” Tom
asked, earning a sharp glare from the guard, “I mean, does Joan get
that many visitors?”
Melanie and Mike
gave Tom worried looks, as though they hoped to communicate that
arguing was not a good idea.
“Besides Melanie?”
The guard asked, “No.”
Tom blinked. “Wait,”
He said, “You recognize Melanie and you're still going to turn us
away?”
The guard was
silent, his jaw alternately clenching and relaxing. Finally, he
spoke. “Today's not a good day for visitors.”
Melanie slumped in
her seat and Mike made to begin reversing the car.
“No,” Tom said a
bit louder than he'd intended, “I may not get another chance to see
Joan and—
“Tom!” The shock
of hearing Mike speak so forcefully drove Tom into silence. “Joan's
having a bad day.”
“Then lets go
cheer her up,” Tom said, still not understanding what the big deal
was.
“Joan's,”
Melanie began but the guard at her door cut her off.
“Drive in,” He
said.
“What?” Mike and
Melanie said at once.
“He's Tom?” The
guard asked, “Joan's Tom?”
“If you mean the
guy who Joan burned,” Tom said, not liking being talked about when
he was right there, “Then yes, that's me.”
“It might actually
do her some good to see you,” The guard said, “Drive on in.”
Mike, Melanie and
Tom couldn't believe the sudden change in events but weren't going to
argue any further as Mike drove past the guard post. Tom looked out
the back window and saw the guard following in his jeep, talking on
his radio. Ahead, a large concrete structure jutted out of the
otherwise flat and empty ground. This wasn't the prison as he'd
expected it to be, it was something different, something new.
The building was
octagonal and several stories high, though the distinct lack of
windows made it difficult to tell exactly how tall it was. Smoke, or
steam, Tom couldn't tell which, rose from the roof in a thick plum
that stood out against the cold gray sky.
“Cozy,” Tom said
as they got out of the car.
“Joan's been in
here for about three months now,” Melanie said, “I tried to visit
her once a week but she's been having so many bad days lately that I
haven't been able to get in to see her at all this month.”
They were joined by
the guard a moment later and he motioned for them to go in; he
followed behind. Once inside, they were all run through security and
then the guard, who was apparently their escort now, took them over
to an elevator.
“We'll go up to
the observation deck first,” He said, “And we'll see how things
go from there.”
They all filed into
the elevator and the guard pushed the button. The floor jerked and
Tom's stomach turned. He never did like elevators, or airplanes for
that matter since he was so prone to motion sickness. The thought of
having a six hour flight ahead of him did not make him feel any
better.
“So what's wrong
with Joan?” Tom asked in the hopes of distracting himself from the
unpleasant swirling in his stomach.
The guard only gave
Tom a withering look as the elevator doors slid open. Before them was
a balcony encased in a thick glass shell that overlooked the interior
of the building. The guard led them all forward and right as he
reached the railing to look down the glass in front of him flashed
with fire. Tom stopped walking immediately and memories of the night
Joan burned him flooded unwanted into his mind.
“Come down, come
down, come down, come down,” A voice from below called to them.
The guard didn't
seem phased by the fire and he pressed a button on the railing while
leaning over a small microphone Tom hadn't noticed before.
“You're friends
are here to see you,” He said.
More fire shot up
from below and for a brief moment the entire observation deck was
engulfed in flame. Tom shut his eyes and reached out to Mike to
steady himself. He knew his grip on Mike was too tight and he thought
he heard Mike grunt a little but made no effort to pull free from
Tom's grasp.
“Melanie and Mike
are here,” The guard said.
No response.
“And Tom's here
too,” The guard said just as Tom regained his composure enough to
open his eyes once more.
“Tom's dead!”
Joan shrieked from below and though no more fire hit the balcony
there was the distinct glow of fire emanating from below.
Tom made his way
over to the intercom and the guard moved to make room for him. Down
below them about thirty feet, Tom could see Joan, burning. She sat in
the middle of a ring of stones she'd apparently piled up herself. Her
enclosure was scorched black, making it difficult to make out any
other features. Joan's clothes were burned in places but not so badly
as Tom had expected. As he watched, Joan swayed back and forth,
laying her hands on alternating side of the stone ring.
“She's been
burning for almost two weeks straight,” The guard whispered.
“Um,” Tom began,
not knowing what exactly he should say.
The guard was still
holding down the button to the intercom and Joan sat up still when
she heard Tom's voice, though Tom couldn't tell if that was because
she recognized it or if it was just a different voice from that of
the guards.
“I'm looking for a
book,” Tom continued, saying the first thing that came to his mind,
“And I was wondering if you had it in paperback?”
Joan's fire went
out.
“Can I come down?”
Tom asked.
The guard
immediately took his finger off the intercom button. “What are you
thinking?” He asked.
“Her fire's out,”
Tom said, pointing to Joan who still had yet to respond.
“I would think
that you of all people would know that that can change without a
moments notice.”
“Yeah, Tom,”
Mike said, rubbing his arm where Tom had been gripping only moments
before, “I don't think that's a very good idea.”
“Tom?” Joan
called from below.
“Yes, I'm still
here,” Tom replied, holding down the intercom button himself.
“If you want to
come down,” Joan said, “That would be fine. I promise I won't
burn you.”
Tom looked to the
guard who bit his lip, thinking. Tom was himself surprised by his
sudden desire, his need to go down to Joan. He couldn't explain what
had happened to his fear but ever since he saw Joan down below in her
circle of rocks, looking so different from before. She was so scared,
so weak, and she had been the one to give him courage.
“Tom?” Joan
called out again, a tear in her voice.
Tom moved to the
microphone but the guard held him back and leaned in instead. Tom's
heart fell.
“He'll be down in
a moment, Joan,” The guard said and then turned off the intercom.
“Be careful,” He said to Tom, “And good luck.”
* * *
So tell me, what are your thoughts on Tom? Have any of you ever dealt with serious burns? Have I described his state sufficiently or should there be more? Less?
