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“Remember, we confirmed yesterday,” Giuseppe smiled until he turned away from the nurse and faced Ricardo where he could look at him directly, and the nurse couldn’t see.
“Oh, yeah,” he stammered. Giuseppe looked at him keenly. “I remember.”
“By the way, Rick. You look so much better with that bandage off your head,” Giuseppe smiled. “Looking good, bro.”
Ricardo tried to erase the surprised look on his face and tried to overlook the fact that his heart had dropped into his stomach.
“So, what were you saying, nurse? Did you need to give him any further discharge instructions?”
“No,” she replied, still confused. “But our porter has to be the one to take him downstairs.”
“No problem,” Giuseppe smiled. “I’ll ride along with him.”
The nurse felt a sense of unease, but she couldn’t put her finger on why.
“Do you have any questions or concerns, Mr. Adele?”
She elongated the word concerned, so just in case he did, Ricardo would say something and clue her in.
“No,” he uttered, dropping his eyes from hers.
She’d seen that before, so it wasn’t telling. She had nothing to go on, but she pushed a little more.
“Are you sure? Because if you have any questions, I’m willing to answer them.”
He thought about reminding the nurse how she didn’t care what really happened to him. He thought about trying to tell her that the man standing near his bed, the man feigning pleasantries, was the one who was going to make sure he died that day. It was pointless, so Ricardo only shook his head, saying nothing.
“Okay then,” the nurse replied, giving up on trying to help even though she understood there was very little she could do, especially if he didn’t want to be helped.
“Let me get the porter. I’ll be right back.”
As she exited the room, Giuseppe stayed close to Ricardo. When he heard the door close, he spun on his heels and faced him. He didn’t say anything; he just made sure his presence was known and felt. Giuseppe could feel the fear emanating from Ricardo’s presence. The feeling was empowering and satisfying.
The door opened again. The nurse returned, as did the porter, entering the room for the first time.
“Are you ready, Mr. Adele?” The porter said as he wheeled the chair into the room.
Ricardo didn’t have the strength to respond. He didn’t even have the will to nod. He just sat there and awaited his transport. The porter and the nurse advised him on how they would move him to the chair. Ricardo scarcely paid attention. He knew he soon would be moved to a coffin where he wouldn’t feel a thing. They shifted and adjusted him with Giuseppe out of the way. When they got him in the chair, the nurse leaned in when she suspected no one else paid attention and asked him again if he needed help. She just couldn’t shake the suspicion she had.
“Please tell me if something is wrong.”
Ricardo turned his head and made eye contact with the nurse. She searched his eyes but couldn’t discern what she saw as they were cruelly interrupted.
“Alright, Rick, let’s get this show on the road,” Giuseppe replied much too gleefully. He reached for the handles of the wheelchair and turned Ricardo away from the nurse. Giuseppe started pushing him out of the room. The porter stopped him.
“Sorry, sir,” he said. “I have to be the one to transport him.”
“Well, let’s go,” Giuseppe smiled, relinquishing the handles.
The porter took over and straightened up the chair so as to push it out of the room. They made their way into the hall, with Giuseppe following behind. When the nurse tried to fall in behind him, Giuseppe paused and turned on his heels.
“Don’t you have other patients to attend to?”
It was the look in his eyes that defied the smile that halted her steps. When Giuseppe was satisfied that she was no longer inclined to follow, he turned around and followed the chair. When they made it to the elevator, and the porter and Ricardo were safely inside, just before the doors closed, Giuseppe looked at the nurse, who still remained frozen in place, and offered her a smile. She watched as the elevator doors closed.
Ricardo felt an overwhelming sense of doom and gloom the lower the elevator went. He felt that sense of foreboding when the doors opened on the first floor and even more when the porter pushed him across the emerald green marble floor with light gold lines to make it look richer. Ricardo watched those lines on the floor as he was wheeled toward the automatic front doors.
“This is as far as I take you,” the porter smiled as he stopped just past the awning.
