Novel

Split –level

 

Chapter 1

July, 2009

 

“He was unconscious, dehydrated, and pecked at a bit when they brought him in. Right here, over here and down here,” the nurse said as she pointed out various injuries on the withered body.

“You mean to tell me that birds were trying to eat him?” the Doctor inquired.

“I don’t think they were trying. They were succeeding, especially on his cheek here, and his midsection here.” The nurse moved around the intubated body very slowly with her hand to reveal sections that were no more, on his abdomen and left cheek. The hole in his skin revealed the slightest tint of reddish gum underneath, and every so often, a small flash of yellow from his tooth was revealed as his jaw spasmed amidst his labored breathing.

The descriptions sounded ghoulish to his ex-girlfriend Deborah, who listened outside of the door, holding up the hospital wall with her back. She peeked in the room from time to time, with an almost lackadaisical interest, while noise from the respirator filled the air, rhythmically beating in time with the accompaniment of other hospital players. On his legs, were red bumps framed by markings that looked like bull’s eyes. These intrigued her the most, since she had never seen such perfect circles surrounding around, what looked like, insect bites.

As the nurse paced around the room, periodically poking at Deborah’s ex-fiancé, she remained quiet in the hall, biting what was left of her nails. She had a habit of doing this when times were stressful and especially when she thought nobody was looking. These habits seemed to cause her to zone out the presence of anyone else. The happy and silent place was reached in the hospital, and the affect of subconscious bliss served as a momentary escape from disaster; one in which was facing Deborah right now.

“He’s out there somewhere,” she would think week after week while sitting at work, located far from any city cultural center, art museum, mall, or nightclubs. The house she once shared with Jack Stream was decent, if you were the type that enjoyed that lifestyle. Nevertheless, since she made the choice to start dating Jack at the age of eighteen, the time just slipped away into solemn foolery, while he kept on stuffing critters in the basement.

But these experiences were all a thing of the past, as nighttime now fell outside of the hospital room. Deborah stared at his chest, as it would rise up and then fall, almost to the point of being concave. She walked slowly up and down the hallway, and stopped every time she was in front of Jack’s room. She stared at her phone as to create the illusion that she was text-messaging someone, but in reality, she wasn’t sure if she should enter the hospital room once she saw his condition. Jack looked skinny in the thin white sheets, and as she reflected upon why she even stayed outside of the hospital room that long, the midnight shift nurse entered. As she performed the ritualistic tasks of her job, Deb bit her nails and eventually entered the room discreetly.

He was much dirtier than she had remembered him, with sores on his arms, and scratches here and there on his ghostly white skin. It looked as if he hadn’t been exposed to sunlight in months, and seemed as if tick bites were all along his hairline too. The RN cleaned him up a little, but any observer could tell in his countenance that things were not working out for the better in his life’s path.

The new beard had gray tips pointing in every direction and it looked like a dog with mange. Had she not snuck a glance at his abdomen when the nurse revealed the hole, Deborah might not have noticed how skinny he was based on the huge beard and hair, but the image of his thinning body stayed with her for some time.

Preoccupied with sobering thoughts, Deborah wondered why she even came to the hospital. Ultimately, happy thoughts won the internal debate. “Thank goodness I left two years ago,” Deborah thought, “ who knows how I would look these days.”

“We’re running a serological blood test on him. We feel that, based on the looks of these bites, and others on his body, that the patient may have Lyme disease on top of all of these other factors,” the nurse spoke to her co-worker, not even noticing that a visitor had entered the room.

“Can I help you with something?” the Doctor asked Deborah in an agitated manner.

“I’m just trying to put all of the pieces together here, so if you can help me with that, then yes, you can.” Deborah said.

“Did anyone tell you that he was found unconscious by the side of the road?” the nurse asked.

“No, I just got strange call from a number that I didn’t recognize. It was from a guy named Charlie, and he said that I should come down here because there was a bad accident. He said that Jack wasn’t looking good at all and would need help.”

“Did Charlie tell you why Jack was on the side of the road in this kind of shape?” she said.

“No, he hung up after that. I really don’t talk…. and have never really talked with Charlie. I know Jack.”

“Oh, ok. But there is one other thing.” The nurse looked at Deborah for a long time, as if to measure her up for what was to come. She then exited the room, and retrieved an item from the nurse’s station up the hall. Quickly returning with a little skepticism in her eyes, they both focused on the newest subject at hand.

“We found this wood box in his pocket a little while ago. Take a look at it. We were told to hold onto it for the night, until the police came back to get it. But the thing is just too strange, and since you’re his, you know? Maybe you can tell us what it is?”

Deborah examined the small box, which had been carved to resemble a house. There were windows, a chimney and roof, a front door with a woman and man hugging inside the threshold, while a small handle protruded from the side. Deborah turned the handle and a chilling song that she was all too familiar resonated within the room.

Jack had given her a jewelry box for their first anniversary, so she had a slight case of Deja-vu as she turned the handle more. The mini-music box played a creaky version of Impossible Dream, and as it ended a door opened on the top, springing a mouse upwards. The vermin had been dressed in a top hat and suit-coat. It leaned from side to side holding a cane while its marbled-eyes looked ahead at Deborah.

“That’s one heck of a Jack-in-the-box, don’t you think? It scared the living hell out of me when I played it,” the nurse said.

“I don’t even see Jack anymore,” said Deborah. “I left him over two years ago. He doesn’t know too many people…sort of a loner-type if you ask me. Things were complicated…I mean…I just had to leave, but yes – I’ve seen a lot of these little trinkets. This was a lot of what Jack worked on at home.” Deb left it at that, and the nurse quickly finished up her task.

“Aren’t you Jack’s wife?” the nurse asked.

“No, I’m not his wife. I already told you that a guy named Charlie just called me and told me that I better come down here and check on Jack.”

“You’re not even the patient’s wife?” the Doctor said. He whispered something in the nurse’s ear. Then he left, obviously upset at inadvertently disclosing patient information to a non-relative.

As the nurse followed suit, and exited the room, she stopped and handed Deb a business card, and said, “There was a Police Officer here before you arrived. That’s his card. He told us that if anyone shows up to see the patient, to give him a call at this number. His name is Hunter Brown. He’s a pretty handsome guy if you ask me.”

“Why would he want me to call him?” Deb asked.

After a brief pause, the nurse looked down at the floor, hesitated a bit, and said, “I know that I shouldn’t be saying this, but at this point, what’s the difference?”

“Okay? I’m listening.”

“There was blood on Jack’s clothes. Shortly after he was brought here, we ran some tests on samples from his flannel shirt.”

Deborah said, “By the looks of him over there, it wouldn’t surprise me that he had blood on his shirt.”

“That’s the strangest part. It wasn’t his blood.”