Rendering Flames

My head weighed heavy on the pillow under it. I was still feeling ravaged by Eugene’s vaccination test over the passing week. Each day brought some new symptoms worse than the one before. Aches, rash, blurry vision--a fever is inevitable with these things of course. I had started passing blood yesterday, apparently that was finally enough cause to be hooked up to a drip line of medication. Although it all made me tired, I had already started feeling better than I had yesterday. But whether it was the medications, the stress, or the substance that was injected into me-- or a combination of all of them--I just couldn’t keep my eyes open for very long. I had been sleeping the days away. Is this how it was going to be then?

The door to my room opened, a nurse came and checked the I.V. line and then my vitals. They usually didn’t talk or say much. I didn’t know if they were told not to talk or not but I thought it was easier that way. I didn’t have to try and do any bullshit talking, like who’s in charge of her and this place hadn’t done this to me and I was just feeling under the weather. She pressed some buttons on the machine, looking like she was lowering the dosage being injected into me.

“We’re bringing your friend in.” Her voice, though quiet, was the first I had heard in a few days. I wasn’t quite sure I was hearing her right.

“Bringing my friend in?” I repeated back to her. “You mean, Jaden? I’d rather not see him at the moment. I don’t feel up to it at the moment. Tell him later, like when I’m not pissing blood.”

“He didn’t request it.” I couldn’t fight the anger dulling into worry at her correction to my response.

“Then why is he coming in here?”

“After his first test a few hours after yours the other day, he didn’t take well to it, much like you. He’s in a conscious but unresponsive state to things around him. We aren’t quite sure how to treat it. We are wondering if he’s around someone familiar, he’ll say something or at least make eye contact. If he’s as unresponsive as he has been, we’re checking for permanent brain damage from either the vaccine or organophosphorus compounds.”

“I see. Well, I will do what I can.” I was worried. Horribly worried. Was I still mad at him? Yes, but that can be harbored for when he isn’t a steamed vegetable.

She nodded. “It’ll be a few minutes.”

I was left alone again. I sat up, blood rushing from my head. My body asked to be put back down, it didn’t have the energy I was asking from it. I rubbed my eyes and then a hand through my hair. I felt disgusting and uncomfortable in its broadest terms. I stared at the door separating us. I couldn’t hear anything from the other side. Was this a test maybe? To see how I would react to news like this. Maybe to see if the worry somehow aids in my recovery or worsens it. I was in a place of tests, right answers didn’t reveal themselves so easily.

The door creaked open, stopping still for a few seconds before opened fully. I did my best not to react to his state. He was in a wheelchair, eyes blank and glazed over. He hadn’t shaved, the bags under his eyes were puffy and rooted in their own shadows. He face looked sunken, most likely he hadn’t been eating or sleeping. Did they not have him on medications like I was on? Was this the test between us, to see what happens if you don’t intervene with medications?

“We’ll be watching to make sure things go smoothly.” They left him in front of me as I stayed seated on my bed, gripping the I.V. pole tightly. He looked as if he was sitting like he normally would but something wasn’t right. There was an absence I couldn’t identify confidently.

“They say you haven’t been well.” I started, but as they probably suspected would happen, I didn’t get an answer. “I didn’t know what they meant by that really but now I see. And I thought I looked like shit.”

He was idle. I could see his chest rising and falling evenly, his eyes moving in miniscule movements. I only saw him blink maybe once a minute. I felt sicker than any other time this week in this moment. It was surreal to see him so disconnected, so quiet. I swallowed hard. Searching my mind for something that could stimulate him enough to just look at me. I reached out and took his hand in mine. It was limp.

“You have to be able to hear me. Can you just not talk? Can you not move as you should? Would blinking in response help? The old, once for yes and two for no? Can you hear me?” My heart dropped when I gathered no response form him.

I pulled him towards me. I crossed my legs up onto the bed so he was as close as he could be. I reached down and locked the wheels in place. I took his hands again. I didn’t tried to talk to him again. Instead, I just studied the ghost in front of me. I watched him blink, one that was just automatic and thoughtless as compared to a more purposeful and long. I turned his hands over, looking at how pale they seemed. What did they do to him?

“I don’t understand how you went from pissing me off at the beginning of the week to a shadow within your own. What happened? Did they not treat you like they treated me? Was there no intervention to stop this?” I was talking to a wall.

I leaned forward, turning his head to look at me. It was heavy, barely being supported. His eyes didn’t stay focused on mine but continued their small movements. I placed my hand over his heart, feeling its beat. It was just as it should be. Steady, strong, and repeated. I was bewildered beyond reasoning.

“I’m at a loss of words. I don’t know what to say.” My thumbs grazed his cheeks as my legs shakily leaned me up enough to reach his lips. Nothing. I let his head roll off to the side like it had been. I massaged his hands, trying to warm them up beyond the chill they were at. My hands started to shake on their own accord. I place his hands back down on his lap. A punch to the chest caused me to willfully ignore the burning at the back of my eyes.

I sighed deeply. A part of my head couldn’t help but think of him alone in his room. Just there. My head shook at the qualms that never seemed to end for either of us. Of course, my last words were telling him to leave. And of course, the last feeling he got from me was anger. He nor I could have predicted him escalating to the state he was in. It was human to find the blame and reasoning for things, with this, I couldn’t help but partly blame myself.

I looked to the camera in the corner of the room, quietly asking to come get him.I knew they were there watching, like the nurse had said they would be. I the door clicked, the same nurse entering as before. I took and squeezed his hand lightly.

“I love you.” And I did, not out of pity or dispair or the situation that had been slapped down in front of me. I did because feeling anything else for him would be unnatural. And I had to say it again because somewhere in the back of my mind I didn’t know if I would have another chance.

The nurse had reached the door to his room. I stopped her. “I need to speak with Eugene.”

“He’s very busy. I will tell him that you will like to see him but I don’t know when he will make the time to.” The answer seemed good enough to her but I would be satisfied until he was standing in front of me.

“I’ll rephrase my question, I will speak with Eugene. As soon as possible. Not before or after he finds the time to inject people with a cocktail of poisonous chemicals and a shotty vaccine. No, he will make time to look at his failed attempt before having the same happen to others. And if he still doesn’t comprehend the seriousness of my request, make sure he knows how much I will make his life a living hell just as he now made mine and Jaden’s.”

Her look was stern and controlled. “I will let him know.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

I waited for what felt like hours. It had to have been at least and hour and a half judging by the rate of how emptier the bag of pralidoxime being pumped into me has gotten. I was rattled with guilt and confusion. I didn’t know how to process the suddenness or seriousness of his condition. Like I had felt earlier watching him, it was all surreal. Was this all one big hallucination? For the first time in memory, I prayed that it was.

The door opened swiftly, having me straighten up in attentiveness. Eugene gave a small smiled as he walked in, pulling the chair from against the wall closer to me, and sitting down. He had what looked like a file, a pen clipped to it.

“I received your message loud and clear. I apologize I didn’t get here sooner.” I didn’t trust his friendliness any longer, not that I truly ever did.

“What happened to him? Why wasn’t I told as soon as it became apparent how fucked up he is?”

“Again, I apologize. I didn’t want to inform you of his condition while we were still running through possible treatments. I didn’t want to add anymore stress onto you. You’re already ill enough, stress can do horrendous things to one's body and mind in a weakened state.”

“You herded us into compliance with you. We’ve corroborated. I imagine you understand how hard it is for me to continue the same attitude at the moment. I don’t fully understand what this place is, except a compound for human testing.” I started to feel faint from the amount of anger that was drawing my blood pressure up.

“I don’t know I’m going to be able to sleep at night knowing that he is on the other side of that door by himself, alone and thinking who knows what. I want him moved into here with me. I don’t care if you don’t allow two people to a room or some bullshit. You did this to him, he didn’t willingly sign up for the risk of having his head thrown into a blender. I have no way of knowing how he is being treated on the other side of that wall. And I will be damned if he is fully aware of what is happening around him and to him, unable to control it. Until he is either better or dead, I will be his eyes and ears. I will be his voice. Do you understand that?”
Eugene remained silent for a few minutes before opening the file in his lap and jotting something into it. Once he shut it, he looked back up to me. “I’ve changed his room number to yours. He will be moved in after dinner hour. Is that alright with you?”

I was prepared to fight Eugene tooth and nail on this. I wasn’t prepared for him to just go along with it. “Yes. Thank you.”

He apologized again for Jaden’s state and how it all came about, that he couldn’t have known if he was going to have an adverse reaction to the vaccine or the chemicals. There are just too many to look at with the amount of lab equipment at his disposal, risks have to be made. I didn’t argue in fear of him going back on his word. I just gave a quiet nod to him before he left. I stayed where I was, watching the door until the nurse came in with my dinner tray, for some reason thinking I would have any appetite to eat.