How Deep Is the Red?
2
Harper didn't know what she was supposed to do- she wasn't exactly clear on the etiquette that followed finding a busted man in a crater of his own making. She knew something unnatural was going on, but didn't know how to react.
"The uh... the ambulance is on its way."
The man didn't say anything, he kept his head down. When the ambulance pulled up, it was followed by two police cars. While the paramedics checked on the man, the police questioned Harper about the car. She easily made up some ridiculous vehicle and hoped there wasn't a match in the city. In a rushed mix-up, the paramedics suggested she ride along with them. Too intrigued to decline, she climbed in the back of the ambulance.
Harper's heart wrenched- the man had an oxygen mask on, his black hair was knotted and matted with splotches of blood. His tired blue eyes were barely aware. He looked small and vulnerable on the stretcher.
She looked away. sitting on the metal bench, listening to the paramedics talk to him as they inserted an IV and checked his vitals.
"Do you know what year it is?"
"2011," it was weak, but coherent.
"Do you know where you are?"
He shook his head, breathing shallow.
"You're in Albion, Nebraska."
He didn't respond, really- just kind of stretched his neck a little to look around dispondently at the metal walls, his eyes resting finally on the overhead light.
After a ten minute ride, Harper was following the paramedics through the doors of the E.R. She was stopped by a nurse from going into the checkout room.
"Are you a family member?"
"Uh, well...no," Harper admitted.
"I'm afraid you'll have to wait in the waiting room. In the meantime, could you help out with his papers?"
"Actually, I have no idea who he is."
"Alright," the nurse huffed. "Well, until he's cleared for visitors, you'll need to wait here or go home."
Harper was almost surprised at herself as she decided to sit in the uncomfortable plastic room, reading severely outdated gossip magazines. She figured she was already in this deep, why not just stick around? Maybe she could pull what really happened out of the guy.
Two and a half hours later, a doctor approached Harper. "I assume you're the one here for a man we've identified as Jimmy Novak."
"Yeah, I guess," Harper scooted to the edge of her seat.
The doctor shuffled through some papers on his clipboard before pulling his glasses up to rest ontop of his balding head. "He's got a broken rib and a mild concussion. The trauma to the head has apparently caused him some amnesia. I wish I could say when that will clear up, but we never know with these things. We've got him on a morphine drip right now, but we'll probably switch him over to Vicodin for his treatment. He's ready to be checked out, we just have to find someone to contact. If you want, you can go and see him."
The doctor walked off without waiting for a response. Harper shrugged to herself, standing. She walked past several doors before finding on where the clipboard on the door handle said "Jimmy Novak". She pushed it open, finding herself nervous.
Jimmy, as it was apparently, was propped up, looking out the window. There was a light rain, the glass pain sprinkled with drops that magnified the glow of red and whites car lights in the parking lot against the black sky.
Not truly knowing what she was even supposed to say, Harper stood awkwardly by the door, quickly checking the time on her phone. 6:23 a.m. The sun would be up soon.
Jimmy looked down at his hands. "Why are you doing this for me?"
Harper was startled by the question. She cleared her throat, looking for an easy answer. She'd always had a problem saying 'no', even found herself going out of her way to help out. She avoiding saying that, knowing it would come off as a pretentious Mother Theresa act, when in truth, it was witch's brew of boredom, lack of spine, and the constant need for approval.
So she decided on a shrug and said, "It's not much trouble."
Which was a fairly large lie. She'd wanted to sleep more than six hours ago- now she had work in four hours. But for the life of her, she needed the truth- she coudn't explain it, but she knew there was more than just who he really was.
"Well, thank you," he said, more grief in his voice than greatfulness.
"Is someone coming to get you?"
"No," he said simply, eyes glued to the window.
"Oh," Harper sighed. "Well, do you need a lift to your place?" She hoped he hadn't forgotten where he lived.
He looked at her now, brows knit together in confusion. "A lift?"
"...a ride?" she almost wanted to laugh.
"I've got nowhere to go," his eyes were full of sorrow.
Harper felt guilty for being excited about this; she wasn't happy about his misfortune rather than the fact that this looked like a chance to break the monotony of her life, even if it was just for a day.
"You could stay at my place for a night, if you need to."
She couldn't believe what she was doing. Inviting a strange man into her home. Her mother would just die if she could see Harper right now. There was something so incredibly innocent about him, though. Harper knew this was exactly what he needed.
"I don't deserve your hospitality," he muttered in a way that also sounded like he didn't want her charity.
"Nonsense," she laughed, rushed. "A pull-out bed is hardly any fuss."
He looked torn, unsure of what to do.
"I'm ready to go whenever you are," she'd put her foot down. "C'mon, Jimmy, what d'ya say?"
"I say my name's not Jimmy, it's Cas."
Figuring she better not push for more answers, Harper smiled.
"Well, Cas, let's get you checked out of here."
"The uh... the ambulance is on its way."
The man didn't say anything, he kept his head down. When the ambulance pulled up, it was followed by two police cars. While the paramedics checked on the man, the police questioned Harper about the car. She easily made up some ridiculous vehicle and hoped there wasn't a match in the city. In a rushed mix-up, the paramedics suggested she ride along with them. Too intrigued to decline, she climbed in the back of the ambulance.
Harper's heart wrenched- the man had an oxygen mask on, his black hair was knotted and matted with splotches of blood. His tired blue eyes were barely aware. He looked small and vulnerable on the stretcher.
She looked away. sitting on the metal bench, listening to the paramedics talk to him as they inserted an IV and checked his vitals.
"Do you know what year it is?"
"2011," it was weak, but coherent.
"Do you know where you are?"
He shook his head, breathing shallow.
"You're in Albion, Nebraska."
He didn't respond, really- just kind of stretched his neck a little to look around dispondently at the metal walls, his eyes resting finally on the overhead light.
After a ten minute ride, Harper was following the paramedics through the doors of the E.R. She was stopped by a nurse from going into the checkout room.
"Are you a family member?"
"Uh, well...no," Harper admitted.
"I'm afraid you'll have to wait in the waiting room. In the meantime, could you help out with his papers?"
"Actually, I have no idea who he is."
"Alright," the nurse huffed. "Well, until he's cleared for visitors, you'll need to wait here or go home."
Harper was almost surprised at herself as she decided to sit in the uncomfortable plastic room, reading severely outdated gossip magazines. She figured she was already in this deep, why not just stick around? Maybe she could pull what really happened out of the guy.
Two and a half hours later, a doctor approached Harper. "I assume you're the one here for a man we've identified as Jimmy Novak."
"Yeah, I guess," Harper scooted to the edge of her seat.
The doctor shuffled through some papers on his clipboard before pulling his glasses up to rest ontop of his balding head. "He's got a broken rib and a mild concussion. The trauma to the head has apparently caused him some amnesia. I wish I could say when that will clear up, but we never know with these things. We've got him on a morphine drip right now, but we'll probably switch him over to Vicodin for his treatment. He's ready to be checked out, we just have to find someone to contact. If you want, you can go and see him."
The doctor walked off without waiting for a response. Harper shrugged to herself, standing. She walked past several doors before finding on where the clipboard on the door handle said "Jimmy Novak". She pushed it open, finding herself nervous.
Jimmy, as it was apparently, was propped up, looking out the window. There was a light rain, the glass pain sprinkled with drops that magnified the glow of red and whites car lights in the parking lot against the black sky.
Not truly knowing what she was even supposed to say, Harper stood awkwardly by the door, quickly checking the time on her phone. 6:23 a.m. The sun would be up soon.
Jimmy looked down at his hands. "Why are you doing this for me?"
Harper was startled by the question. She cleared her throat, looking for an easy answer. She'd always had a problem saying 'no', even found herself going out of her way to help out. She avoiding saying that, knowing it would come off as a pretentious Mother Theresa act, when in truth, it was witch's brew of boredom, lack of spine, and the constant need for approval.
So she decided on a shrug and said, "It's not much trouble."
Which was a fairly large lie. She'd wanted to sleep more than six hours ago- now she had work in four hours. But for the life of her, she needed the truth- she coudn't explain it, but she knew there was more than just who he really was.
"Well, thank you," he said, more grief in his voice than greatfulness.
"Is someone coming to get you?"
"No," he said simply, eyes glued to the window.
"Oh," Harper sighed. "Well, do you need a lift to your place?" She hoped he hadn't forgotten where he lived.
He looked at her now, brows knit together in confusion. "A lift?"
"...a ride?" she almost wanted to laugh.
"I've got nowhere to go," his eyes were full of sorrow.
Harper felt guilty for being excited about this; she wasn't happy about his misfortune rather than the fact that this looked like a chance to break the monotony of her life, even if it was just for a day.
"You could stay at my place for a night, if you need to."
She couldn't believe what she was doing. Inviting a strange man into her home. Her mother would just die if she could see Harper right now. There was something so incredibly innocent about him, though. Harper knew this was exactly what he needed.
"I don't deserve your hospitality," he muttered in a way that also sounded like he didn't want her charity.
"Nonsense," she laughed, rushed. "A pull-out bed is hardly any fuss."
He looked torn, unsure of what to do.
"I'm ready to go whenever you are," she'd put her foot down. "C'mon, Jimmy, what d'ya say?"
"I say my name's not Jimmy, it's Cas."
Figuring she better not push for more answers, Harper smiled.
"Well, Cas, let's get you checked out of here."