“Stateside?”
While I processed this information, he stood, gave my hand a squeeze, and then signaled to Char, who handed me two pills and a cup of water before grabbing some clean gauze and bandages. I felt her eyes on me, but was unable to look at her for fear I’d start crying.
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “They’ll fix you up and you’ll be back in no time.”
But we both knew that might not be the case. My absence would leave a space for someone else to come in. In all likelihood, I’d be sent elsewhere once I was well enough to work again. The thought of leaving my friends, the hospital staff I interacted with daily, this strange and too-hot island with its crazy weather, damn bugs, and creatures making up camp in our beds...
I threw the pills in my mouth, drank the water down, and handed the cup to Char.
“I’ll be here when you wake,” she said.
I nodded, closed my eyes, and drifted off.
I slept fitfully, waking with a cry on my lips as I came to every so often, having shifted my leg unintentionally and sending a fresh wave of pain through it.
Each time I woke I saw Char sitting beside me as promised, a book in her hands, a look of concern on her face as she sat up, prepared to help, and then sat back again as the pain medicine pulled me mercifully under once more.
When I woke fully a few hours later, she was still there. She looked tired, her hair a mess, her clothes wrinkled, but a smile on her face as her eyes met mine.
“Good evening,” she said.
“Whatcha reading?” I asked, my words slurred.
She held her book so I could see the title.Evil Under the Sunby Agatha Christie.
“Is that your diary?” I asked and she threw her head back and laughed, earning her several hushes from the medical staff.
“Sorry,” she whispered and then smacked the side of my bed with the book. “I see the pain medication didn’t dull your humor.”
She stood then and stretched.
“You hungry?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“Well, I am. Why don’t I go grab us both some chow.”
She returned a little while later with Paulette, Tilly, and a tray of food. Tilly helped me sit up while Paulette readjusted my blankets, and then Char placed the tray before me.
“I can’t believe this,” Tilly said, sitting at the foot of my bed.
None of us could. It was even more unbelievable when two days later I was being loaded onto a plane for the US, a telegram having been sent to my aunt and uncle ahead of my arrival so they knew I was coming.
“You’ll write?” Char asked as she secured me to my bunk for the ride. I had never once expected to be leaving the island this way, as a patient like the ones I’d cared for over the past many months.
“I will.”
“And send chocolate?” she asked.
I laughed and then winced, gripping the rails and nodding.
“I’ll send what I can.”
“I can’t believe you’re really going. Who’s going to listen to me in the middle of the night? Who will I drag out to get a drink?”
“Paulette?” I whispered and she glared.
“Never. Again,” she said and I grinned.
