The Falling Man

A lot can happen in twenty minutes.

More than I ever imagined before.

They moved Katrina into a room, said they needed more space in the E.R. I just wondered how much this was all going to cost, and then how on earth I was going to pay for it. We didn’t have any insurance now, because I had quit my job a day earlier. I was regretting it more and more.

After they moved her, Katrina relapsed. She had awakened for a split minute, and her body began convulsing in the shock. I stood there, just watching as the doctors and nurses rushed in, trying to help her. A nurse had to escort me out and into the hallway.

“You can sit in the lounge if you’d like,” she offered, “It’s at the end of the hall.”

I nodded, wiping away a few stray tears and taking a deep breath before walking down the hall.

I had never been more afraid in my life. For myself. For my daughter. And for Gerard.

I entered the room, a few stray chairs were left and a TV was on. The rest of the chairs had been taken to the E.R.

I sat uncomfortably in one of the plastic chairs, sitting straight up with my hands on my knees and taking deep breaths.

There was a hurricane going on inside my head, trying to figure out in all the mess what I was going to tell him. How he’d react once I did.

I rubbed my face with my hands, my stomach becoming sick from the nervousness.

What’s the worst that could happen?

All of this was. The day my daughter was to meet her father, who didn’t even know about her, we witnessed the World Trade Center go under some unknown reason of attack. Now, she was lying in a bed, hooked up to machines helping her stay alive, and he was coming to the hospital, in for the biggest shock of his entire life.

This wouldn’t get any better. It wasn’t meant to.

I glanced at the TV, it was on the news. There were video of the towers burning. I looked away, my head throbbing as the newscaster droned on and on about the situation at hand.

“Miss?”

I looked up, another nurse stood in the room now, her arms behind her back.

“There’s a man in the emergency waiting room that is looking for you. His name’s...” She glanced at a piece of paper in her hand, “Way? Jared Way?”

I sighed, and shook my head, “His name is Gerard.”

She smiled apologetically, “Should I tell him you won’t see him now?”

I shook my head again before standing, “No, I’ll come.”

“I could bring him up here so he could see your daughter as well.”

I paused for a minute, then shook my head again.

“No. I’ll go down to see him.”

I followed her into the small elevator, and my head beginning to ache more and more.

What was I going to say to him? I hadn’t seen him in four years.

This was all a bad idea.

The elevator dinged as we reached the emergency room, and the doors slowly opened to reveal the chaos that was still occurring.

The nurse gently grabbed my wrist, pulling me out.

“Come, I’ll take you to him.”

I downcast my eyes, watching my feet take each step across the pristine, white, tiled floor. I didn’t look up again until we stopped moving.

“Well,” the nurse stood awkwardly between us, “Here you are.”

Gerard thanked her, smiling, and she head off.

He looked back at me, his hazel eyes still burning like they had years ago, and he smiled softly.

“Hi.”

I nervously ran my hand through my hair, my eyes wanting to look everywhere but at the man before me.

“Hey.”

I looked at him reluctantly, he looked almost the same. His hair was a bit shorter now, but still messy and dark. His eyes lingered to my lips and then back to mine.

Then, without notice, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closely to his body. It didn’t even take me a second to react, just hugging him tightly back and taking him all in again. He still smelled like cigarettes and soap. And I still felt so safe in his arms.

“I missed you so much, Ana,” he whispered, his hand rubbing my back lightly in circles.

“I missed you too,” I breathed, half-hoping he hadn’t heard me.

But I knew he did as he kissed me lightly on the temple, then pulled away to look at the stitches on my forehead.

“It’s not so bad,” his eyes traced the stitches, then looked back at me, “Does it hurt?”

“Not really,” I leaned back a little, his arms still holding me, “I just have a headache now. The pills haven’t really worked.”

“I’m sorry,” He mumbled, his thoughts obviously lingering.

It was funny being like this. I felt like I hadn’t left his side in years, even though it had been years since I had last seen him, let alone touch him. All of these dormant emotions within me came bubbling up again, and I felt at peace amidst all my worry and nervousness.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked, letting go of my waist then taking my hands, “We can go get coffee if your still up for it.”

All I wanted to do was get out of the city with him. Leave all of the disaster and tragedy behind. But I knew I couldn’t.

I shook my head instead, saying in a soft voice, “I have something I need to show you, Gerard.”