Indeed, Kathy Blaker was the most interesting eight-year old I had ever met.
11th July 2000
“We have a new title,” Kathy announced.
“Really?” I asked with surprise and fascination at the same time. “What is it now?”
“Siamese Twins!” she said with her jet black eyes twinkling.
In just five days, Kathy and me felt like we had known each other for five generations. We were like siblings and by now, everyone was aware of our friendship to the extent that they had started giving us titles like “The Wacky Duo” and all other sorts. I had forgotten my previous days spent at the hospital when I was constantly annoyed and sarcastic.
One of the fun things we did amongst talking into late nights and irritating the hospital staff was going to visit Mrs. Anne D’ Mello. She was the head nurse of the hospital with the heart of a saint. For a woman in her late fifties, she still had quite a child-like heart. She was one of the not-so-many adults who could understand children and who could actually relate her own experiences to ours. In hers and Kathy’s company even the stale hospital food and the tired old faces stopped bothering me and I felt as though my life was at its greatest peak. At least for the time being…it was.
18th august 2000
At long last, it was time for me to be discharged. After bidding a tearful goodbye to Kathy, Mrs. D’ Mello and Dr. Khan, I left the place that had helped cure me not only physically but also mentally by assisting me to appreciate friendship, relationships and people. Kathy and me exchanged contact numbers promising to keep in touch and eventually I ended up leaving the hospital with numerous plans for the rest of the summer vacations. Little did I know that I’d be back to the same place where it had all started… I’d be there sooner than I knew.
21st August 2000.
(5 p.m.)
I was back at home and back to the idling routine of ‘holiday life.’ It was only now that I realized that, indeed, “there is no place like home.” After almost two days of being an authentic extrovert, I returned home in the evening and started checking the answering machine for messages. Even though I didn’t know why, I was expecting something to happen. And it did.
The 4th message was from Mrs. D’ Mello. It said.
“ Ok dear, I really don’t know how to break this to you, but something terrible has happened at the hospital.”
I was dumbstruck, not knowing what to expect next.
“ Kathy has been involved in an accident…. she.. She fell down the stairs and…” the message ended in Mrs. D’ Mello’s sobs. The total rhythm of my pulse changed and I felt jolts of electricity rushing all over me. I left the house and if I had really cared, I would be astonished at my speed.
21st August 2000
(5:30 p.m.)
Reaching the hospital I found out that Kathy had received a major concussion on the left side of her brain. She was supposed to have fallen off the stairs while going to visit Mrs. D’ Mello. I caught a glimpse of several neurosurgeons being ushered into the operation theatre where she was being operated. The small rectangle of clear glass on the doors of the operation theatre illustrated the view of several paramedics in a frenzy, trying to save the life of a person most dear to me. On the top left side of Kathy’s brain, I saw the blood oozing onto the pillow and a nurse frantically trying to clean it up with cotton wool. As I observed my friend on the crossroads of her life, a felt a small tear flow down my cheeks. I had absolutely no idea of what was going to happen. Suddenly I felt the presence of someone gripping my elbows tightly to console me.
“The ward boy told me that she hit the railing while she fell down.” Said Mrs. D’ Mello from behind me.
I didn’t respond to this for I couldn’t. I felt dead and was waiting for a miracle to strike. I just hoped that the operation wouldn’t take long for the wait was already unbearable. I didn’t want it to get excruciating.
22nd August 2000
(12:30 a.m.)
Every second brought a mixed array of emotions inclusive of hope, despair, numbness and not to mention a trickle of sweat on the brow. I was confused as to how I survived those seven hours (which seemed like seven lifetimes at that point in time.) Then quite suddenly, a gust of air escaped the operation theatre cooling the sweat and agony off my face. I expected news but to my sheer disappointment, it was just a nurse’s journey to get some blood samples and X-rays. Before the door closed, I managed to hear something which I wished I wouldn’t have.
“ Doctor, the patient is sinking fast!” An urgent screeching voice said.
“Nurse, get the blood samples and X-rays NOW!” was the second response.
Knowing that interrupting the nurse now wouldn’t be the right move, both for my emotional state as well as for Kathy’s life I stayed where I was. Waiting. Sobbing. Frozen.
22nd August 2000
(2 a.m.)
Ages later, a doctor came out of the operation theatre and transferred my thoughts from the nightmare in my dreams to the nightmare of reality that was about to hit me.
“What happened? Is she..” I couldn’t even get myself to say anything.
“Yes, she is alive’ But..” it was only at this point of my life that I had analyzed this three letter word so much. Even though the Oxford English Dictionary defined it as-“Otherwise or on the other hand,” to me that three-letter word placed a life at an intersection.
The doctor heaved a deep sigh and continued. “ She is alive but in coma.”
“Coma? So when do I see her? When will she recover?”
“You can see her right now little girl but when will she recover is a little tricky for me to answer. It may take three days, three years or three generations or…” there was a long pause.
“Or what?”
“Or she may never recover. She may never come back to consciousness.”
Everything else was a blur and all the suppressed emotions of mine erupted like molten lava from a volcano. A rain of tears shot out from my eyes identifying me as a person who broke down because of the shattering of a hope and because of the epitome of despair. I was amazed by how many emotions could crop up inside one person at the same time. At this stage, I felt like the village swept away by the fiercest tidal wave. However I realized that I wasn’t hit by the elements of nature but by the reality which couldn’t be absorbed.
Slowly, silently and somewhat unsteadily I treaded across the long whitewashed corridor when I came face to face with Kathy’s Killer. The twisted white marble staircase reminded me of the structure of DNA. I started descending the down the monstrous steps and saw the vivid, now reddish-brownish blood. Imagining how the whole scene must have taken place made me feel absolutely nauseated. I raced out to the corridor, externally breathing fresh air but internally trapped in an eddy of my own conflicting emotions. My physical self felt released from the dark and dingy stairway but my thoughts held me back and wouldn’t let me catch a breath of freshness. At least not for the time being. My first instinct was to run home or even forget the incident as a terrifying experience but the lead in my legs and the conscience of my heart stooped me. There was still something else to be done.
22nd August 2000
(3 a.m.)
I caught a sight of Mrs. D’ Mello next to the hospital gift shop purchasing a vibrant bouquet of purple and orange flowers for Kathy. However, the most peculiar thing was that her face did not breed an expression of mourn but highlighted a feeling of joy. She turned and caught notice of me and said in her jovial and cordial voice.
“ Aren’t they lovely?”
I stood still, wondering. Somehow I just didn’t seem to understand how the world had such a short-lived memory.
“Kathy loves these colours. She’ll like them when she wakes up.”
“And when will she wake up?” I said these words not out of sarcasm or nastiness but out of dire desperation. It’s funny how the Fates alone can answer the most crucial questions in your life and yet I asked this question to Mrs. D’ Mello to break free from my own perplexity.
“Why if she isn’t up yet, she’ll be in a couple of hours right?” apparently the expression on my face was enough to frizzle enough Mrs. D’ Mello’s excitement. It only took her smile a few seconds to disappear and soon enough and it was replaced by a look of shock and puzzlement.
“Mrs. D’Mello, Kathy is free from danger and she is alive, but she has escaped from all of us.”
“Escaped? Why dear child where has she gone to?”
“ She has gone into the world beyond the closed eyelids Mrs. D’ Mello. She is in coma.” The impact of my words hit upon Mrs. D’ Mello like a lion tamer’s cane ripping apart her thoughts of joy. Looking across the mirror in the gift shop, I caught a glimpse of us and indeed, the only word that could describe us at that instant was ‘disoriented.’
“What happens next?” she asked me, her eyes boring into mine.
“That’s a good question Mrs. D’ Mello… we’ll just have to wait and watch.” I said as a tear escaped my eye and fell into one of the orange flowers.
22nd august 2003
(Present day)
I went to see Kathy today not knowing what to expect. I caught up with the doctor who had given me the shattering news of Kathy being in coma and asked him, “Dr. how is the progress of Kathy Blaker?”
“Excuse me miss but who are you talking about?”
“Oh I…I was talking about the patient on bed # 503.”
“Ah yes bed # 503….well there are no signs of recovery yet. I’m sorry.”
The reality doomed on me and I understood that anyone could lose their identity to the extent that no one recognizes them. The very person I spoke to had once saved Kathy’s life and now, she was no one but bed # 503. I progressed slowly once again through the whitewashed corridor to meet the now so-called the patient of bed # 503.
Going back to the hospital to see Kathy brought back some long-forgotten memories. There were so many things that had remained static in Kathy and so many that had changed. Her life was like a stagnant river, both progressing and stationary at the same time. Her features have changed since the past three years. Her radiant child-like face has been replaced by a paleness I had never known existed in her. However these things don’t matter. To the whole world Kathy is as good as a living corpse but yet, somewhere in her eyes lies a child-like sparkle that only I notice. Inside that disgusting motionlessness is a soul of a child shifting in its place to perform tricks on others. A child who is struggling to steal away from the curse that has been given to her. A child, who is still fresh just like the flowers Mrs. D’ Mello had brought for her three years ago. I still have retained those flowers. Indeed, time has also caught up with them and they are now brittle and lifeless just like Kathy seems to be. But whenever I smell them, I can still feel the fragrance in them that is eternal. I know that just like Kathy, even those lifeless orange and purple flowers are also keen to bring joy into other people’s lives and I know that they will never give up that hope.
I then decided that I would go to see the old-timer Mrs. Anne D’ Mello. I crossed the gift shop and went to the chemist asking for her. It wasn’t till after half an hour that I learned that she had retired. Just before I was leaving the hospital I decided to pause and take a good look around me. On a personal level I had lost an irreplaceable friend but when I looked around the world seemed as similar as it was three years ago. There was hustle and bustle in every nook and corner and no one in that entire place had the time to stop over and consider where life was taking them. It was then that I decided that life goes on… with us or without us. It just goes on.
While leaving the place I was lucky enough to catch the sight of a shooting star and I didn’t know whether or not my wish would be answered but in any case, I hoped that God would help the flower named Kathy Blaker bloom again.