Bald-headed
Ch. 39

I was in and out of consciousness for days until the foggy morning again when my promise to Sugi spurred on my body once again.

I opened my eyes and saw a room full of flowers, and the smell motivated me even further. I looked for the bell, struggled to suppress it, and a nurse arrived thirty seconds later, followed by dr. Sandy, who immediately smiled.

"I'm thirsty" I said in a hoarse voice, and dr. Frandi smiled broadly.

"Welcome back" he said, "I know you'll make it."

Two weeks later I could leave the hospital.

If I were a Cadillac, I would drive in circles, one wheel spinning, because the right half of my body is weaker than the left.

This, they say, is good news, because paralysis can be total and I passed it this time. Sometimes, it seems, I'm surrounded by optimistic people.

The bad news was that my hands prevented me from using a cane or wheelchair, so I now had to line up with my own unique rhythm to stay upright. Not left-right-left as was common in my youth, but slow-drag, slide-to-right, slow-drag.

I am an epic adventurer now when I travel in the hall. I walked slowly even for my own slow size, I became a woman who could barely surpass the speed of a turtle since two weeks ago.

It was getting late, and when I got to my room, I knew I wasn't going to sleep. I breathed deeply and smelled the smell of the dry season filtered through my room.

The window was left open, and there was a slight chill in the air. I realized that the change in temperature had made me feel fresher than ever.

Rhara, one of the many nurses here who was a third of my age, helped me up to the chair by the window and began to close it. I stopped him, and even though his eyebrows were raised, he accepted my decision. I heard a drawer open, and a moment later a sweater covered my shoulder.

He adjusted it as if I was a child, and when he finished, he put his hand on my shoulder and patted it gently. He said nothing while doing this, and from his silence I knew he was staring out the window. He didn't move for a long time, and I wondered what he was thinking, but I didn't ask.

I finally heard his sigh. She turned to leave, and when she did, she stopped, leaned forward, and then kissed me on the cheek, gently, just like my granddaughter did.

I was surprised by this, and he said quietly, "It's good to have you back. Sally missed you and so did we all. We're all praying for you because it's not the same here when you're gone." He smiled at me and touched my face before he left.

I didn't say anything. Then I heard him walking again, pushing the cart, talking to the other nurses, their voices held back.

The stars came out tonight, and the world shone a terrifying blue. The crickets sang, and his voice drowned the others.

As I sat down, I wondered if anyone outside could see me, this prisoner of the flesh.

I searched the trees, the yard, the pews near the goose, looking for signs of life, but nothing.

I stared at it for hours, and all I did was, I saw the shadows of the clouds as they started to bounce off the water.

A storm is coming, and in time the sky will turn silvery, like dusk again.

Lightning cut across the wild sky, and I felt my mind drift back.

Who are we, Sugi and I? Are we ancient ivy on evergreen trees, tendrils and boughs intertwined so tightly that we would both die if forced to separate? I don't know.

The small lamp near the table beside me was bright enough to see Sugi's photo, the best photo I had. I had asked Sugi to frame it years ago in the hope that the glass would last forever.

I grabbed it and held it a few inches from my face. I stared at it for a long time, I couldn't help it. He was forty-three when the photo was taken, and he was never this handsome. There were so many things I wanted to ask her, but I knew the picture wouldn't answer, so I set it aside.

Tonight, with Sugi in the hallway of his other room, I was alone. I'll always be alone. I thought about this when I was lying in the hospital. Also now, I keep believing that when I look out the window and see a storm cloud appear.

Apart from myself, I was saddened by our circumstances, because I realized that our last day together, I did not have time to hug her tighter or kiss her on the lips. Maybe I'll never again. It is impossible to say with this disease.

Why do I think of such things?

I finally got up and walked to my desk and turned on the lights. It took more effort than I thought, and I was tense, so I didn't go back to the window seat.

I sat down and spent a few minutes looking at the pictures on my desk. Family photos, photos of children and holidays. Sugi and I. I recalled the times we shared together, alone or with family, and once again I realized how ancient I was.

I opened the drawer and found the flower she had given me long ago, old and faded, tied with ribbons. They, like me, are dry and fragile and difficult to handle without breaking.

But Sugi had saved those flowers.

"I don't understand what you want with those flowers" I said, but she ignored me.

And sometimes at night I see her holding the flower, almost with respect, as if she offers the secret of life itself. Men's.

Since this seems like a night of remembrance, I searched and found my wedding ring. It's in the top drawer, wrapped in a tissue. I can't wear it anymore because my knuckles are swollen and my fingers lack blood.

I unwrapped the tissue and found it unchanged. It was strong, a symbol, a circle, and I knew, I knew, there would never be another.

I knew it then, and I know it now. And at that moment he whispered aloud, "I am still yours, Birundasih, my queen, my eternal adoration are you, and always, you are the best thing in my life."