Between the Lanterns(11)

“Y’all take care of my baby. Stick to the recipes, ya hear? Don’t get all cute and try to update ‘’em. They are perfect as is; I promise you. And Sam, my dear, if you ever happen to fall in love… real love… don’t let it go. Hold onto it tight, no matter what tries to take it from you. I let it go once, and it was a damn mistake. My only regret in this fabulous life I’ve led is that John isn’t here to kiss me goodbye.”

Silence filled the room, only to be broken by John’s muted sobs. Samantha’s tears were flowing freely now. It broke her heart, but she was also relieved that John now knew the truth. And John was also happy to know it.

August had stopped working and listened as Sam had recounted Cheryl’s last words. He wiped his tears away, then got back to fixing up John’s MediBed.

Having finished, he scooted out from under the bed and pressed a button on the armrest. The MediBed shifted and raised John up to a sitting position.

“Hey, how about that? Excellent work, August,” John said, smiling now. “How in the heck did you do it?”

Now that he no longer had to lie back all the way, flat as a pancake, John felt a little better.

“It was nothin’, John,” August replied modestly. “Just a few loose wires soldered back into place, switched the workin’ maglev plates from the bottom of the bed with the busted ones up top, and then rebooted the system. It’s not 100% like brand new or nothin’, but it’ll get the job done.”

Samantha gazed over at August and once again felt a strong connection with the handsome man. He didn’t have to fix the bed. It wasn’t that big of a deal, really. John’s health would not have been affected either way. But August had wanted to do something nice for John. He had wanted John to be comfortable, and so went out of his way to make it happen. That selflessness was way more beautiful to Samantha than even August’s genuinely caring eyes and big, strong arms, although she did rather like those, too.

John fell asleep shortly after, so August and Samantha moved out to the waiting room to give him some peace and quiet. They sat side-by-side and sipped at some awful Nutricator Cola that one of the nurses had brought them. Samantha thought it tasted like how a wet dog smells, so she politely set it down and never touched it again. August was used to it, as it was the only drink provided for free in the factory cafeteria.

“That was extraordinary, what you did in there for John’s MediBed,” she whispered, putting her hand on his. “Did you see how fast he conked out after you fixed it, sweets?”

“Yeah, it really was nothin’, though;: a simple and easy fix. What you did was amazin’,” August gushed. “You gave that man closure after all these years. He finally knows that she always loved him. That is much more important that what I did. You’re a special lady,; you know that?”

Before Samantha could respond, Dr. Granger came into the waiting room wearing a solemn expression, and said, “Are you the two friends and/or family of Patient Hill in room 517?”

An absolutely dreadful feeling suddenly came over both August and Samantha.

“Yes, sir, we are… his friends, that is, not his family,” August said fearfully. “Is somethin’ the matter?”

“I’m afraid so,” the doctor replied. “Would you two please follow me to my office? We’ll talk in private.”

They both got up in a daze and followed Dr. Granger into his private office to hear what was more than likely going to be awful news.





Chapter 5





THREE MINUTES





“Ok, Doc, hit us with the bad news,” August said, worried at how Samantha would take the news of John passing away while the two of them sat out in the waiting room. She would probably be devastated they weren’t there to say goodbye and offer comfort as he died.

“Well, as you are aware,” Dr. Granger stated in an emotionless monotone, “Patient Hill was struck by an AutoCar yesterday afternoon right here on West Main Street. His prognosis is not a good one, I’m afraid. It’s more than likely going to be fatal. There is not much we can do for him at his age. He’s got multiple breaks, internal bleeding, and some other irreversible trauma. We’ve been able to stabilize him thus far, but it won’t continue for long, I’m sorry to say.”

“Oh thank the Lord!” Samantha exclaimed. “He’s not dead already. Sweets, I thought you brought us in here to give us the bad news. I was scared we wouldn’t get to say goodbye.”

“Yeah, me, too, Sam,” August admitted, taking her hand in his. “Doc, why the hell did you lead us to believe he was dead?”

Dr. Christopher Granger blinked at them in confusion, and said flatly, “I wasn’t aware that I did. I brought you two in here to show you the one and only option available to save Patient Hill.”

“Why on God’s green Earth do you keep calling him Patient Hill?” Samantha asked angrily. “His name is John. Call him John!”

She wasn’t big on clinics. They creeped her out a little bit, and this cold, mechanical way of referring to a living, breathing human just rubbed her up the wrong way.

“It’s clinic policy that we never use the Patient’s first name,” Dr. Granger explained. “It might lead to emotional attachments, and with the business we’re in, dealing with sick and dying people… it’s easier to use a formal title. I do apologize if it offends you, but such is life.”