Crashing Down (7 page)

‘Thanks for coming. Thanks. What happened isn't your fault.'

She nods, but it doesn't matter. His saying that means he knows it is. Carl must have been so mad — with her.

Al and Ben go in — so excited to finally see JD for real — and Lucy sits with Mr Tan.

‘Mrs Tan is not coping well,' he tells her. ‘She can't come, doesn't want to see JD like this. I try and encourage her but she is funny like that. Says she will wait until he's out of IC. In a proper room, she says.'

‘How long do they think?' Lucy asks.

‘Soon,' Mr Tan says. ‘They'll move him and test him. I'm praying the break is clean and hasn't touched his spinal cord.'

‘It won't have,' Lucy says firmly. ‘JD will be okay.'

As she waits for the two boys to return, Lucy checks her phone outside. There are six missed calls — all from Mr Kapuletti. There is voicemail. She listens but can't understand what he's saying. She hits the button and calls his mobile.

‘Lucy, we need you to come now,' Mr K shouts into the phone.

She pulls it away from her ear. ‘What's happened?' she asks. She's scared.

‘He's not himself. He's swearing at people and throwing things. He's not quite right in the head.
Please say you'll come now?'

‘Yes,' she says, as tremors run through her body. ‘I'll come now.'

Al drives her to the hospital. She's arranged for her mum to meet her in the foyer.

‘Can we come up?' Al asks, not taking his eyes off the road. ‘Did Mr K say?'

‘He didn't. I didn't ask. He freaked me out,' Lucy says apologetically.

‘Doesn't sound like Carl, man,' Ben offers from the back. ‘That dude is the most non-violent guy I know. Bit of a pussy even.'

Ben's trying to lighten them up — but it's true what he says. Carl is gentle, kind; if he's acting aggressively, something must be wrong in his head. Lucy shivers violently. How will he react to her?

Lucy waits with Al and Ben in the foyer of the hospital. This one is different to JD's hospital. It's huge and busy. People coming and going. Some shuffle, others stride carrying flowers and gifts. Everyone hurrying about with heads filled with their own problems. No one knows her thoughts.

She watches the front doors, waiting for her mum. There is no way she is going up without her. Al and Ben sit in chairs, tapping their feet — not talking. Then the sliding doors open and her mum appears, slightly flustered.

‘Hey,' she says, hugging Lucy.

Lucy looks at Ben and Al. ‘Thanks guys.' She hugs them both. How close the three of them have
become so quickly. Another bizarre turn.

‘Anytime,' Al says.

‘Text me,' Ben asks, ‘after you see him?'

Lucy nods, grateful for their support.

Mum holds her hand as they ascend, and Lucy is glad for it. She wants to ask what will happen but knows this time her mum doesn't have the answer. They enter Level 6, as instructed by Mr K, and see him at the end of the hallway. Lucy grips her mum's hand tighter.

‘Lucy, you're here,' he says loudly.

‘I'm here,' she agrees.

‘Carl is awake. But he's not right — he's not himself. I need to see if you can make a difference.' ‘Okay,' she says, but wonders what she can do.

They walk down the corridor, past doors open on people in beds, looking up vacantly at TVs. An old man bending over, the back of his open gown exposing his hairy, saggy buttocks. Her mother squeezes her hand. Nurses push wheelchairs and IV drips. Up ahead a large tea trolley is parked outside a door. 624.

She breathes deeply. Carl is awake, she reminds
herself, and talking. He is not right? What exactly is wrong with him? What if he gets angry with her?

Suddenly a loud shattering noise. A cup has smashed on the floor. Lucy looks at her mother wide-eyed, unconsciously squeezing her hand again. Her mother gives her a small smile. They step into the doorway; the curtain in front of them is closed.

‘I'm so sorry. So sorry.' It's Mrs K's voice. ‘My Carlo, he normally the good boy.'

‘It's okay,' an unfamiliar voice says.

‘Okay?' Carl's voice, but deeper. ‘I'd say that's as far from okay as you can get. Isn't it your job to collect cups and wash them, not smash them? Can't see your boss thinking that's okay.'

Lucy frowns. The tone is snide, hateful.

‘Here!' Carl shouts so loudly that Lucy jumps. ‘You forgot this!'

A saucer hurtles into the curtain in front of them and clatters to the floor, unbroken but chipped. An orderly bends down to pick up the saucer, as he opens the curtain. Seeing them standing there, he says casually, ‘Common in head injury,' by way of explanation. ‘The aggression and violence.'

Lucy looks past him to where Carl lies on the
bed. He is stretched out, propped up, glaring towards her. She freezes. It looks so much like him, but so much unlike him. The difference is disturbing and disconcerting. It's like she's seeing a copy of Carl, with a few tiny variations. His face is white, yet grey. His eyes are open, but she can't see his eyes properly. The entire socket is black, making him look alien, foreign. Eyeball-less. Like a face without eyes. His mouth is a thin, mean line. Then it drops open, as though someone has shot him with 100 volts of electricity.

Lucy stares at him. Carl, but not Carl. He smiles. A sly, wolfish grin.

‘Hey,' he says, super casual, like he's trying to chat her up. But his voice is deep and gravelly. Nothing is right about him. ‘Long time, hey?'

Lucy nods. Even though it's only been five days since the crash, it's felt like years to her.

Mrs K is nodding and gently weeping. ‘My Carlo,' she says, patting his arm.

He flinches and glares at her, sending death rays through her with his eyes.

Lucy takes a step backwards.

‘Here,' he says, nodding towards the seat next
to the bed, ‘sit down.' It's an order, and Lucy is too scared to refuse. She moves towards the bed.

A sickening unwashed odour comes from him. She wrinkles her nose and then tries to pretend she didn't. She tries breathing through her mouth. Despite the leather cuffs restraining the full extent of his movement, he is still able to pick up her hand and crush it in his. His hand is filthy; there is black dirt under his fingernails and in the webbing between his fingers.

‘So whatcha been doing?' Again, that very casual voice that sounds nothing like Carl.

So many thoughts rush through her head, but she dismisses each one. Telling him how frightened she is, how worried about him and JD she's been, and now the pregnancy — all seem totally wrong. She shrugs.

The bones in her hand are rubbing together painfully. That eyeless face is watching her. He is freaking her out.

‘I went to work,' she says, although her mouth is suddenly dry and her tongue feels three times its normal size.

‘Yeah?' He leans closer.

The smell of rotting meat is overpowering. A wave of nausea rushes through her.

‘Where do you work, then?'

She frowns at his question, which immediately elicits the same response from him. Even his frown is menacing. She struggles to breathe normally. ‘Coles,' she says. She's been working there for a couple of years — every Thursday night and Saturday morning since she was fifteen. He has even picked her up from there.

‘Serious?' With just one word he sounds so disappointed in her, and releases his grip for a minute. ‘What happened to all your plans?'

‘Plans?' She looks at her mother and Mrs K. They smile encouragingly.

‘We go for coffee,' Mrs K interjects, seemingly happy that Carl knows who Lucy is, ‘leave you lovebirds.'

Her mum gives her the
are you alright?
look and Lucy nods, despite feeling the polar opposite of alright. She watches them leave, wishes she was leaving with them.

‘Thank fuck they've gone,' Carl mutters, grabbing her hand again. ‘I'm sick of them spying on me. So
what happened, then?'

Lucy thinks quickly — what happened? That night? He doesn't remember? ‘What?'

‘Your plans. You always said back when we were in high school that you were going to go to uni — become a …' — he pauses and frowns — ‘a something. What happened? How come you ended up working at Coles?'

‘Oh.' She realises there is a lot wrong with him, aside from the black eyes. ‘I work there part-time.'

He smiles, that strange secretive smile. ‘So uni, then?'

‘No.' She wiggles her fingers, the tips of which she thinks are turning blue. ‘I'm in high school, doing Year 12.'

‘What!' he shouts and she jumps. ‘Why? What happened to you? You were, like, the smartest girl in school. Why are you repeating?'

‘I'm not.' Lucy has a blinding headache. ‘I'm still doing it.'

He shakes his head, the information bothering him, but Lucy sees he can't figure out why.

A nurse puts her head around the curtain. ‘Hello,' she calls cheerily, pulling a trolley behind her. ‘Just
need to do some obs.'

Carl tenses and tightens his grip on Lucy's hand. ‘What the fuck do you want?' he snaps at the nurse.

‘Hey Carl, settle down.' She puts a hand on his wrist. ‘I'm Petra, just need to take your temperature and stuff.'

‘Nurse, hey?' he says triumphantly. ‘So this
is
a hospital.' He looks at Lucy, nodding.

She doesn't know what to say.

‘Do you know what day it is today?' Petra asks, as she fiddles with a machine.

Carl ignores her and turns towards Lucy. ‘My fucking eyes are killing me. What have they done to me?' he whispers.

‘Do you know where you are?' Petra asks, shaking a thermometer.

‘Do you know where you are?'
Carl mimics her nastily. ‘No, I don't, you stupid bitch. But I bet you fucking do. Get away.' He shakes his head from side to side and grits his teeth. ‘I'd stick that thermometer in your eye if you weren't wearing glasses. And my hands weren't tied.'

‘Calm down, now.' The nurse tries to soothe him.

‘Fuck off, you fat slut!' he screams at her.

Lucy recoils. ‘Carl!'

‘What?' He looks at her, confused.

‘Don't be so horrible.' Lucy feels close to tears. She watches Petra, who remains unfazed, pack the trolley.

‘Sorry,' Carl says churlishly. ‘You're not really fat. More like pear-shaped.'

‘Carl!' Lucy says again.

‘What?' He frowns. ‘Look, it worked. She's gone. So where were we? Tell me about yourself, then.' There it is again, that slightly sleazy tone. ‘Where do you live, what do you do?' He glares and drops her hand. ‘Who are you with now? That guy? Did you get married?'

‘What?' She rubs her hands together, trying to get the circulation moving again. ‘Married?' She wishes she could laugh — she's in
The Twilight Zone.

‘To that guy?' He spits as he speaks. She feels it on her face but is too scared to wipe it away.

‘What guy?'

‘You know.' He turns from her. There is dirt all through his hair; the white pillow beneath his head is filthy.

Nausea rises in Lucy again. Everything is
overpowering — the sight, the smell, the weirdness.

‘That guy you dumped me for.'

‘Carl.' She reaches over to touch his hand, but she's scared of what he might do. Her hand hovers in the air between them. ‘I never dumped you.' And once the words are out, she immediately regrets them. They had almost broken up, hadn't they? It was nearly all over that night, wasn't it?

He turns to face her and his black eyes glisten. He's crying, she thinks. In their fourteen months together, she'd never seen him cry.
Real wogs don't cry,
he'd say when she sat there, weeping over
The Notebook.

‘Are you sure?' He frowns and grabs her hand again. ‘Where have you been, then? How come I …' He trails off and looks around furtively. His eyes fix on the smoke detector above them. ‘Why am I here? Do you know? What have I done? What do they want from me?'

‘You're in a hospital, Carl,' Lucy whispers, engulfed by his paranoia.

‘Yes!' He nods triumphantly. ‘I figured. I think they keep experimenting on me. I'm not sure why. It was a total relief to see you. I figured you'd got
word and come here to get me out. You have, haven't you?' He drops her hand again. ‘You're not one of them, are you?' He pushes himself back against the headboard. ‘How do I know if I can trust her?' he asks, as if to someone else in the room.

‘Carl!' She is horrified. What has happened to his brain? Who is he? Who is he talking to? ‘You had an accident. You're here to get better.'

‘Sure, yeah.' His eyes narrow suspiciously. ‘Get me a drink?'

She leaps to her feet, relieved to get out. ‘No probs. Back in a minute.' She pushes open the curtain.

‘Hey,' he shouts. She flinches, ready to duck. ‘Make sure you do.'

‘Do what?' she says, steadying herself against the curtain.

‘Come back in a minute.' He looks at an imaginary watch. ‘I'm timing you.'

She tries to laugh, but is frightened it will come out as a sob.

Lucy walks unsteadily down the hallway. Is this permanent? Is this how he will stay? She rubs her hand over her stomach. Her awareness of how serious everything has suddenly become makes her want to swoon. It sounds so romantic — swooning — but there is nothing romantic here; it's dirty and sad and totally wrong. She sees her mum in the lounge area at the end of the corridor, listening to Mrs K, who is gesticulating wildly. As she gets closer, she notices they've both been crying. There's a pile of tissues between them and their eyes are red-rimmed.

‘Hey,' her mum says. ‘Okay?'