Page 2 of Julian

Today though was really odd.

I had returned from Mr. Benjamin’s and was waiting for Morla to show up. It was past six already and there was no sign of her. She told me never to go outside very far, but I was worried about her. She was the most punctual woman in the world, and now she was running late. At seven forty-five when I did not hear from her or from the doctor, I began to pace back and forth.

"Morla is fine yeah?" I would occasionally ask the cat who would just lazily purr and roll on its belly. Sometimes, cats are the worst of companions, they just purr and mock your pain.

Morla has to be fine. She promised me she would take care of me and the cat. The clock chimed loudly in my ears, and my heart raced like a horse on a racetrack. I wanted to get out, I wanted to find her. But anytime I took a step towards the door, her voice came back to warn me of the looming adversities outside these walls.

When you go, you simply just do not come back.

I bit my fingernails, and when I could not take the tension anymore, I dashed for the door.

"Just go to the phone booth, call to see if she is okay...and come back," I told myself. At that moment, I wished she had a phone in the house. She said a landline was just another place where someone could listen in.

As I turned the knob, the door pushed back abruptly and in stumbled Morla. My heart stopped but quickly recovered when I saw that she was fine. She put her hand over my mouth and a finger to her own lips to tell me to be quiet. I pulled her hand away.

“I was worri-“ I started to say when she grabbed my arm and pulled me into the bathroom.

She turned on the sink faucet, “we need to be quiet. I think they’re listening.”

I nodded.

She opened the door and grabbed my hand leading me towards my bedroom. She picked up my backpack from the edge of my bed and started shoving my clothes inside.

"We've gotta go," she whispered.

I picked up my favorite hoodie and pulled it over my head keeping the hood secure around my face.

"Grab Mr. Pickles," she told me, and I reached down to scoop the animal in my arms.

"Where to?" I quietly asked.

She leaned forward and whispered in my ear that I just needed to trust her. She said there was somewhere safe we were going, and I would understand when the sun came up.

We sneaked out under the cover of the dark sky, hopped into Morla’s car, and headed west. The motion of the car lulled me to sleep.

I woke up to the stinging ray of sunlight in my eyes, and the beeping of an IV machine on a stand next to my bed. An intubation pipe ran into my mouth and cables popped out of the top of my gown. I looked down and Mr. Pickles was curled up at my feet. I was not home; I was at a hospital. I tried to remember how I got here, and then it occurred to me that Morla was not with me. I struggled to sit up and was about to climb out of bed when strong hands stopped me from crashing to the floor.

I blinked twice and his face came into focus. He was smiling at me.

"Calm down, you'll be fine," he said gently.

How long was I going to keep believing that lie? I wanted to snap but was held down by the familiarity of his face. He was good looking, his brows were beautifully arched, his smile looked sincere, and his physique was striking. There was no way I would have met him and forgotten.

"Relax now..." he breathed into my face.

"Morla..." I tried to say around the tube in my mouth.

"Sshhh. Just relax."

How was I supposed to relax? He may be good looking, but he sure was an idiot. He went outside then came back with a fat balding man in a white coat with a stethoscope around his neck. Before I knew what happened, I was falling into another deep sleep with the name of my protector on my lips.

When I woke up again, my tongue was dreadfully bitter, the pain in my side and legs began to register, the IV machines had stopped beeping, and the tube running into my mouth was removed. Mr. Pickles was at my feet, and the strange, yet familiar man was seated in a chair close to my bed. He was asleep with a newspaper over his chest and overnight stubble on his jaw. Impulse made him jerk awake and his smile came again.

“Hi. Are you alright?”

“Who are you?” I croaked, fighting the bile that rushed up my throat.

“I am Julian.”

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