Quiescence

For the first time, I thought I heard him. In the pressing whiteness of my world, I could not only hear Laci, but hear him too.

“Hang on, Eva, hang on.”

“It’s Evan”, I correct him in my head. His voice is thick, almost like I was wading through viscous mud. There’s a certain open sharpness about it, and yet it’s as if I’m rubbing one of May’s tulip petals between my slender fingers.

That’s the funny thing about sound – you describe it without eve listening. Because after all, it’s just in my head.

Everything is just in my head.

Everything except Laci.

A steady, pulsating beat pumps through my blood. There’s a dryness in my throat that I don’t remember being there before – before what? A man in a charcoal suit is sitting in a phony-looking chair next to me. His eyes ignite once he catches hold of my gaze, and his hands come to life in front of him.

My name is Cal. I’m you’re interpreter. Are you okay, Evangeline?

I feel painful vibrations in my throat as I try to annunciate and articulate the severity of my pain, and the broad-shouldered, beady-eyed Cal watches me from the end of my bed sympathetically. Reluctantly, my mind shakes off the ice coating it, and with the gear slowly churning, the realization of true pain hits me like a train. I try to scream, kicking the sandpapery sheets off of me, but my legs works just as wonderful as my hearing.

Translucent tubes snake down the length of both my arms, and pinpricks of heat dot the entire surface area of my body. Threated and weary, Cal jumps up from his perch on his maroon throne and stands behind the plastic safety bar of my bed.

My name is Cal. The doctors are preparing you for emergency surgery. You’re going to be okay. Sweetheart can you remember your name for me? His eyes glance over my swollen face, and I let a heave out, the tears stinging every pore in my face. My heart rate starts to slow to a moderate level of anxiety. His strong, aged hands quickly flick meanings, setting me at ease. I look down and my mangled hands, red and shredded.

My name is Evangeline. I go by Evan. He chuckles, exposing a row of straight white teeth, glinting with a light coat of saliva. I can’t remember why I’m in the bed, or why my body is heavy and torn to pieces. I vaguely recollect Laci before the whiteness all came. I remember his smile, and the way his entire face lifted and lit up when he grinned. It was a curtain, denouncing the end of a tragic play, where his eyes danced in even the littlest of light. His suave sense of living, and his admiration of the girl who gave it all.

Where’s Laci? What happened? Laci? Laci, where are you? I pound my hands on the safety rail, sending tidal waves of pain through my body. My arms jolt out in angles from the shock as I contort my hands furiously, signing for Laci. Did he hurt me? The last face I saw was one that I had loved, but it was the one who did this to me.

Calm down, Evan. Everything is going to be okay. Laci is being questioned and will be in momentarily. Your parents will not make it in time for your surgery, given its urgency. You were in a hit and run car accident.

I lift my hands up to respond, but they’re heavy as bricks. Damn it, Cal. Hit and run accidents don’t happen to nice girls. Laci hurt me. He hurt me. My thumping heartbeat rises in agitation just as I see my blonde attacker slide in towards the doorway. His eyes lock on mine and before I can blink he’s at my side, grasping my hands. I tear them from his clutch, mortified. Unable to speak, I sign to Cal maliciously,

You hurt me, Laci. Why would you do this to me? Why did you hurt me? You son of a bitch, Laci, I can’t- Cal cuts me off with a swift motion of his torso, pivoting himself towards a frightened Laci. I see his lips move and I can still easily read them as he gives Laci my message. Both men are shocked, and I avert my eyes to the sheets, now turning a livid rose color. I see Laci’s pale lips move before me, his breath warm and moist on my cheek.

“Evan, talk to me, please. I would never want to hurt you, Evangeline. If we could trade spots at this very moment, I would. Damn it, Evan, you didn’t’ nearly have to kill yourself to get me to notice you. You had my attention from the moment I saw you.”

Cal turns back to me, slowly signing what I’ve already read. I half-smile. I idiotically smile at a time like this, at this horrible joke, from this lovely boy. A tall plump woman with carrot hair curled neatly at the nape of her neck walks in, her stance authoritative and intimidating. She talks slowly to Cal, who then signs to me I’m going into surgery now and to say my last goodbyes. Before I can respond, Cal turns to Laci abruptly.

“You do know she’s deaf, Laci? Right?” Cal side glances towards me, and eyebrow cocked. He taps his foot questioningly, but not signs of judgment emanate from him. Laci looks at me, and now it’s his turn for his eyes to turn to fire, his expression dropping horribly.

“You’re deaf?”