The Time Traveler's Wife Page 14
“I’m sure we will doctor” Tracy replied.
When the doctor and his students left, Tracy wheeled her cart towards John’s room and stared through the window as the man sitting on his bed. She had seen him like this, scores of times, and she would see like this, many scores of times more; until her love was strong enough to keep him rooted in her heart and her, in his thoughts and in his memories. But it hurt her to see him like this, to feel as she felt but for his touch to be so cold and foreign.
“Hi, John. It’s time for your medication” she said.
She wheeled the cart to the bed and sat down beside him, resting one hand on his leg.
“My name is John?” he asked.
“It is. Do you know where you are John?”
“Is this a hospital?” he asked.
“It is John. This is a hospital John and you are a patient. Do you know who I am John?”
John looked confused. He stared at her as if she were a corner he had never turned.
“Are you a nurse?” he asked.
“I am,” she said. “My name is Tracy. And I’m your nurse” she said, hinting to nothing more.
“My head is sore,” John said, pressing his face against her shoulder.
Tracy rested her hand against the back of his head and slowly caressed his hair.
“We’ve been through worse baby” she whispered, so softly that he couldn’t hear. “Please hold on. I love you so much” she said, a single tear, escaping from the crux of her tightly shut eyes and landing onto John’s arid lips.
When she left, John stretched the cramping from his body and walked up to the window. As he watched as the nurse wheeled her cart around, ignoring the cursing and agitated pointing of crazed patients and impatient doctors, he noticed how different and unlike the other nurses she was; how her crazy hair sprung up and down all wild and free like an untrimmed hedge, and how her skin glimmered in a certain way that made him think of how the shadows shaped themselves inside his room when the sun set through the backs of the sycamore trees that grew in the field by the window, outside of his room.
He watched her as if she were the only person that existed, as if it were just him and her. The desire to be close to her, to hear her voce shivering the jittery nerves, was overwhelming. He wanted to touch her hand and feel what it was like to make her shiver, to feel the tiny bumps running under his fingers. He wanted to press his face against her neck and smell once more, the light drizzle of lemon tea that aroused from her soft skin. He wanted to stare at her forever, as she was and be still in amazement that such beauty existed.
He wanted to be a part of her world.
He wanted her to be a part of his.
He wanted to know everything about her.
And never tire.
And never be alone.
He wanted this feeling to last forever.
husband, father, son, brother, philosopher, story teller, recluse
Also by C. Sean McGee:
A Rising Fall (CITY b00k 001)
Utopian Circus (CITY b00k 011)
Heaven is Full of Arseholes
Coffee and Sugar
Christine
Rock Book Volume I: The Boy from the County Hell
Rock Book Volume II: Dark Side of the Moon
Alex and The Gruff (a tale of horror)
The Terror{blist}
The Anarchist (or about how everything I own is covered in a fine red dust)
Happy People Live Here
StalkerWindows:
BedroomWindow
BathroomWindow
LoungeWindow
LibraryWindow
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