Coma Girl: Part 5 (Kindle Single) by Bond Stephanie

Author:Bond, Stephanie [Bond, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: NeedtoRead Books
Published: 2016-11-01T07:00:00+00:00

November 16, Wednesday

FOURTEEN THOUSAND THREE HUNDRED THIRTY-FOUR… Fourteen thousand three hundred thirty-five—

The door opened quietly. I might not have heard it except for the fact that it’s early and the hospital is only beginning to rouse.

“Good morning, Coma Girl.”

It’s the volunteer who reads to us often and exploits us occasionally. But at this point, what’s another photo of me in my bed? I might be wearing a different headscarf and from what the nurses say, my baby bump might be showing, but otherwise, I’m a still life arrangement.

“It’s chilly this morning,” he said, blowing—I assume into his hands to warm them.

I believe I’ve forgotten cold and hot. When I think of the words, instead of sensations, colors pop into my head—pale blue for coolness, flame red for warmth. And I can conjure up images of ice and fire, but I can’t recall what they feel like on my skin.

Audrey Parks had escaped the vegetable patch only to come back and torment the rest of us with descriptions of how horrible it was to try to adjust to living again. I suspect after a couple of years of nonbeing, a person would have to relearn everything about interacting with the world. No wonder she was having a rough go of it.

“I marked this Dickinson poem to read some time ago,” he said, “but the timing never felt right. But today for some reason, it feels right, and I hope you like it.”

Even the pages of the book sounded stiff as he turned them.

“It’s called ‘I Have No Life But This,’ and I think it applies to everyone on this earth.”

He paused to good effect, then began.

“I have no life but this, to lead it here, nor any death, but lest dispelled from there. Nor tie to earths to come, nor action new, except through this extent, the realm of you.”

It’s as if he’s looking straight into my heart, as if he knows I’m struggling to accept this life. Part of the resistance is knowing what a burden I will be on my family, and especially my mother. But part of the resistance is plain old brattiness and wanting what I had before.

And even though the philosophy of the poem seems especially poignant for someone like me and Karen Suh, our volunteer is correct that it applies to everyone in all walks of life. As hard as it might be to understand, even a life of privilege comes with its challenges. Look at Joanna.

The door opened again, and I could tell the volunteer was startled by the way he jumped to his feet.

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice said. “The security guard told me I could come in? I’m looking for Marigold Kemp?”

My mind is racing to identify the voice—the woman sounds young, and she’s an ‘uptalker’—she ends every sentence as if she’s asking a question.

“You’re in the right place,” the man said smoothly. “That’s Marigold, with the flowered headscarf.”

“Oh? Are you a relative?”

“A friend.”

She sighed, then I heard the slide of papers, possibly a book.

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