Blue

Back when I was six, I had what everyone called “the sleeping sickness”. I was once told what it was really called but as all young minds are want to do when told a long and complicated scientific word, it was soon forgotten. It was known as “the sleeping sickness” because of the long periods of unconsciousness suffered by the victim; hours, sometimes even days, were spent in an inexplicable comatose state. It also distinctly slowed down essential bodily functions like breathing and heart rate. In a time when all disease was thought to have been eradicated, it caused devastation. Hundreds if not thousands of young children were killed by this deceivingly peaceful onslaught, because it was not discovered and monitored soon enough. As a result, I spent over half a year with doctors closely observing every move I made. Be it the blink of an eye or a sneeze; every last detail was recorded.

I remember little of my first few months in the monitoring suite, as much of that time I was drifting in and out of consciousness. And while time stretched on endlessly for those anxiously watching over me, I’d wake up as if I’d only slept through the night. Finally I was allowed into the recovery zone. Now when you’re six and love to run around in open spaces, chasing the occasional butterfly, being shut up in what is essentially a sterile white box is pretty miserable. The few toys I was allowed to play with were replaced every week for fear of contamination; I wanted to have a tea party with my cuddly friends Bunny and Mr Pins the hedgehog. The one or two picture books I’d had had been taken away when I tore the pages out and spread them all over the floor in attempt to make my ‘box’ a bit more colourful. One day, the giant panda in the corner was replaced with a box of crayons and a colouring book.
Having coloured in all the pictures I had been given and covering as much of the blank white walls as I could in coloured scribbles before the pencil colours wore down, I curled up on my bed thoroughly bored. I scrunched my eyes up against the continual glare of the 6 or so neon strips that stretched across the ceiling, bouncing bright light off the white walls.

I wish I had someone to play with.

The only people I had seen were the nurses who constantly hovered around me and occasionally a doctor would come to check on me. My mum and dad could wave and blow kisses down to me through the glass observation panel that ran along the top of one wall, I got to hear their voices through an intercom and once or twice they even got to come in to my room in funny white suits that rustled when they moved.

You can imagine my surprise when, all of a sudden, a high-pitched voice like my own chirped

I’ll play with you.

My eyes snapped open and I sat up immediately, looking around for this new found friend. The only person I could see was the slightly alarmed face of a nurse peering down at me through the observation glass. I slumped back onto the bed. It was just my mind playing tricks on me. Suddenly the door was flung open and a very annoyed looking nurse bustled into the space. I quickly shut my eyes and pretended to be asleep. She must have noticed the scribbles on the wall when she looked through the window. She didn’t look happy. She hurried out again shutting the door behind her, probably to find someone to clean my wall.

I’m sure they won’t be very mad.

That voice again.

You don’t know Nurse Witchy.

I called her this because she had a long pointed nose that reminded me of the witches you hear about in fairytales. I had names for all the nurses- there was Nurse Curly who had fiery red curls and Nurse Pink who always blushed when Doctor Smiley came in. I liked Doctor Smiley, he was always nice to me and laughed a lot, he even gave me lollipops sometimes.
When the door opened again it was Nurse Curly, she looked at the wall and then at me curled up on the bed. She wasn’t fooled by my pretend sleep. She came and sat on the bed next to me. “Oh Annie, have you been naughty again?”

I looked up at her with big eyes and shook my head.

“Tell you what, if you help me clean the wall and show that you can be a good girl, maybe I can bring you a jigsaw puzzle.”

“I love puzzles!” I almost jumped off the bed in excitement.

She laughed. “I thought you might. Come on then, let’s get this wall clean.”

Nurse Curly gave me a big blue scrubbing brush and put a bucket full of warm soapy water next to the wall I’d scribbled on. She knelt down on the other side of the bucket and soon enough the wall was back to its former pristine state.

When I woke up the next day, there was a box with a big red bow on it. I lifted the lid to reveal the wonderful multi-coloured shapes of a puzzle.

See, I told you they wouldn’t be mad.

I stuck my tongue out like I always did when someone said ‘I told you so.’

It was a tricky puzzle with lots of pieces which I tipped onto the floor so I could see them all.

I’m Toby. What’s your name?

Annie

I’m six.

Me too.

Can I do your puzzle with you?

Okay.

A few days later when I’d finished the jigsaw there was another surprise.

At the foot of my bed stood an easel, big red letters jumped off the first page of the big white notepad.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANNIE! All our love, Mum and Dad”

Before I knew it I was lifted off my bed and whirled through the air. Dad chuckled when I squealed and sat me back on the bed where I was wrapped up in my mother’s arms and covered in kisses.

Because it was my birthday I was allowed a special treat: chocolate cake. Nurse Curly carried it in singing “Happy Birthday” and Mum joined in but she put her hand over Daddy’s mouth because he really can’t sing. He was pulling funny faces at me and kept trying to sing anyway. Mummy’s icing was the best in all the world. I licked it off my fingers, savouring the lovely chocolaty creaminess.

“Now, Nurse Gertrude (I think they mean Nurse Witchy) told us about your little art project on the wall...” Mum shook her head at me.

I stared intently at my feet.

“Has my little angel been naughty?” Daddy tickled me making me giggle.

“...but now you can draw as much as you like, without getting into trouble.” Mum gave me a pretty box with pictures of flowers all over it. It was full of jumbo markers and pencil colours and wax crayons of every colour you could imagine!

“Just promise to stay on the paper this time,” Dad laughed.

I got to spend all day with them for once which was fantastic. They told me stories and they brought a new puzzle for me which we started on the floor next to my bed. Dad kept doing silly dances and Mum and I couldn’t stop laughing. After a day filled with smiles and laughter, it was time to go bed. Nurse Curly came in to check on me. She said there was just enough time for one more bedtime story; after a wonderful adventure and lots of goodnight kisses my parents had to go. Once they’d gone I didn’t want to sleep. The room felt really empty without them.

Your Dad tells really good stories.

Hi Toby... I was growing used to the voice popping up in my head. In fact I quite looked forward to it.

Happy Birthday Annie!

Happy Birthday Toby.

How did you know?

You knew it was my birthday...

Well yeah, but...

I saw you blowing out candles.

Chrissie made me a chocolate cake.

My mummy made mine. Who’s Chrissie?

My nanny.

Why didn’t your mummy make it?

She’s not here. She’s at work.

Oh, when is she coming home?

Chrissie said four more sleeps. Or is that when I see dad? I don’t know...

Did you have a party then?

No, Chrissie said we will have a picnic at the beach tomorrow.

That sounds nice. I've never been to the beach before.

I’ll tell you all about it...

Yes please!

...If you tell me more stories.

What stories?

Your dad’s stories.

Oh, okay then.

The next day he told me all about his picinic, just like he promised. He described how blue the sea was, and how the sunlight reflected off the water. He said it tickled when you wriggled your toes in the sand, and that the air smelled salty.

And the funny thing was, it was like I was there, like when I saw him blowing out the candles on his cake. It was as if he’d taken photos, I could see it all perfectly in my head.

The nurses were a bit confused; when I drew the sea on my big easel they thought it was just a pretty picture, but when I drew a big tall building all in grey (it was actually where Toby’s dad worked) they thought it was a bit odd, especially since I’d written the exact address, floor and office number underneath it.

I told Toby all the stories my dad told me, sometimes he’d even listen in when Dad came to visit. We went on all sorts of adventures together, from sailing the seven seas in a fantastic pirate ship to exploring jungles, swinging from vine to vine.

The nurses’ confusion escalated to doctors’ worry as I became more and more quiet lost in my own world. They feared I might be slipping back into the sleeping phase, even though my recovery had looked so promising. The truth of the matter was, I was having way more fun spying on Toby’s life. He got to go to school and learn all sorts of great things and play on climbing frames and in sand pits. Chrissie picked him up from school every day, sometimes they got ice creams on the way home and every night she’d tuck him up in bed. And where was I? Stuck in my boring white box.

She doesn’t tell me stories though.

I hadn’t realised he was eavesdropping on my thoughts again.

You can see her every day.

But she’s not my mum.

She can hug you.

Can’t you get hugs?

Sometimes, but those white things mummy and daddy wear are scratchy.

I’d hug you.

I giggled shyly, Thanks Toby

As my eyelids were starting to droop and I drifted off to sleep, I faintly heard

Your stories are still the best.

It made me smile.