Dying For A Chance (12 page)

            He clearly hadn’t responded to my question.

            “Go ahead Sam,” Nic’s voice sounded strong and confident. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

            “What? You can’t be serious!”

            “She’s not bluffing, she won’t let you go unless they do this.” I walked over to him at the window and sat on the couch to face him.

            “I don’t care if they think I’m crazy...I can’t lose you.” Tears welled up in my eyes and I tried to scrub them away.

            “What good is being together if it means that you have to be in a nut house? All your new dreams will be gone, we fought so hard to give you a second chance...” Nic’s cool hands wiped away my tears. “It’s alright Sam, I came back twice for you....what makes you think I can’t do it again?”

            I laughed at his confidence. I wanted to fight and scream, kick my way out of there and live on the run. Nic’s quiet confidence brought me back to reality. “Alright then, but if you don’t come back for me I’m coming in to get you. Deal?” He nodded his head. I looked over where the two of them had been exchanging whispered instructions.

            “Alright, you win. Do your thing, but be quick about it so we can get out of here.” I held tightly to Nic’s hands, their cold radiated throughout my arms. Father Phillip took out his bible and began to speak.

            Every word was like a hammer pounding in my ears. At first I thought Nic was going to beat it, that he could hold on if only I was strong enough to keep him there. I didn’t notice at first how light he had gotten. Suddenly I could see the floor below him, then the wall behind him. My heart raced. What could I do? I thought about throwing a shoe at Father Phillip but Nic shook his head. It would only delay things. I was losing him and had to watch every minute of it. My tears fell straight onto our hands unchecked while outside I thought I could still hear that little girl singing with her father.

            “It’s ok Sam, look at me. Don’t look anywhere else, just focus on me.” Nic’s voice had gotten quiet but I could tell he was trying very hard to make even that small sound. “You need to keep going. I don’t want...stop...dreams.” I choked on my tears and called out his name, I could barely see him and his voice was barely a whisper. “Remember....love...you”

             Then he was gone, no burst of light or trumpet sounds...just gone. I don’t remember everything that happened next but I do recall throwing Dr. Gannushkin out of my room, she didn’t look as surprised as I had hoped. For a time things were mostly a blur.

            It took a long while to get back on my feet. The hospital apologized for the traumatic scene with Dr. Gannushkin, it turned out that she had some pretty radical methods and was officially reprimanded. They didn’t want a lawsuit so they decided to help me find an apartment and paid for two months rent while I looked for a job. I’d like to say that I was strong and kept up my promise to Nic to follow my dream. Well, it didn’t happen exactly like that. I had been living in my studio apartment for three weeks when it finally hit me that he wasn’t coming back.

            I’d just gotten back from the grocery store with an armload of vegetables and pasta. My cane made an annoying thump, thump noise as I hobbled down the hall. I hadn’t kept up the exercises so my leg wasn’t getting any better. I’d almost gotten through my front door when the cane hung up on the frame and I tumbled into my apartment. The groceries spilled everywhere, the spaghetti sauce jar split open and sprayed across the wall. I stayed on the floor and cried.

            I bawled like my world had been torn apart. It felt so unfair. Why did I have to keep going on without him? I decided that I would lay on that floor until fate, the universe or God brought him back to me. It seemed the only reasonable thing to do. I waited there for a long time.

            It was late into the night when I finally pulled myself together. With grim determination I rescued my groceries and made dinner from what was left. Life didn’t seem to be listening to me and there was nothing I could do about it. That night when I sat down to eat my pasta and veggies a strange feeling came over me. I looked around my tiny flat with its bare walls and lifeless feeling, if you had just walked in you wouldn’t really know someone was living there. In the black reflection of the TV I saw myself, haggard and thin. My hair was growing out at weird angles and I hadn’t gotten the courage to take a taxi to a salon...what if I tripped, what would the other people say about my cane? I had gotten a few phone calls from Dr. Swaresh, he was eager to meet and see how my new life was turning out. I hadn’t returned any of them, my life had become depressing to me and I couldn’t face him. I flipped through the television channels and tried not to think about anything at all. I was flipping so fast that I almost missed it.

            Slowly I retraced the channels until I found it, A Fistful of Dollars. At first it made me cry, I thought of Nic and all the big new dreams I’d made when he was with me. Then, it made me laugh...I don’t know why, it seems weird thinking about laughing at a time like that. I laughed and laughed and it felt good. I remembered all the mischievous things Nic had done, like the time he duct taped one of the nurses station to the ceiling. The phone, the chair and all of it. They talked about that for weeks. I thought of the time I had thrown ketchup packets at the wall trying to hit him. What a mess that must have made. I laughed thinking about how Nic would have seen me, some crazy girl with a head bandage firing ketchup bombs. I hadn’t laughed in a long time and it felt so good to finally let go.

            Something had broken my wall of pity and self doubt. Thinking about Nic, how nothing really got him down...his confidence and strength. I sat there watching that old western and imagined what Nic would tell me if he were there, how he would chastise me for giving up. It made me smile to remember him and that was the beginning of how I pulled myself up, dusted myself off and started over.

            Things always seem to happen a lot faster when you look back on them. I started with myself, got back into the routine of exercising and stretching. After that I had to decide what to do with my life. I sat down with a pen and paper and wrote at the very top.... “What I would do if I had a million dollars” I didn’t want to limit my dreams this time, I wanted to do everything I had my heart set on. The first thing I put on the list...Go to Ireland. It felt silly, going to a place just because Nic had said he had wanted to go. I left it at the top but wrote a few other things below it; Get an education, Move on. It wasn’t much of a list but I clung to it. I decided that before I was able to do any of those things I would have to get a job.

            My sixth week out of the hospital I landed a job hostessing at a small restaurant, it wasn’t much but it left time for me to take online classes. They didn’t even mind that I started out using a cane. I was on my way to a new life and for the first time in weeks I wasn’t afraid of my future.

            The Aer Lingus flight landed precisely on time in Dublin, each time we landed I felt an intense satisfaction...like I’d personally had something to do with landing the plane. My company had made arrangements with the airline for all of our guests to be seated together and we waited until the plane cleared before making our way off the plane and on out through customs. At the end of the baggage carousels I saw an old man with a sign that read “Eire Tours” I flagged my guests down while they were taking pictures of the interior of the airport and instructed them to follow our bus driver.

            “Afternoon Mr. Tully, how is your granddaughter?” I knew everyone on my route, down to the shop owners of the little novelty places we always stopped at. My travel agent certification had taken six months and learning this new job had taken another six, plenty of time to get to know people.

            “She’s grand, thanks for askin’ Miss Samantha” Mr. Tully helped our group to get situated in their seats and I pulled myself up to stand at the front of the bus. I no longer need a cane, the hitch in my step was barely noticeable and I rarely got questions about the slight limp. I tapped
the
overhead microphone to get everyone’s attention.

“Please settle down everyone. Mrs. Craston your husband’s in the back dear...yes, two rows back...you better get to him before Mrs. Henson does. That’s it.” The bus was filled with couples and singles, most of them over 65 years old. I loved working with older people, they had a much better perspective on life.

“Samantha hun’ you think we can take that Guinness tour now...I need a cold one.” Mr. Jackson grinned and tweaked my cheek as he shuffled to his seat.

“Alright, do we have everyone?” I did a quick head count and when the bus pulled out of the airport I settled into my familiar speech. It was my job to give them everything they needed to know about Ireland, or at least this part of it. We didn’t have a big tour, just two weeks, but it was perfect for the old folks. I sat down when I finished my introductory speech and listened to the first of many renditions of O’ Danny Boy being sung throughout the bus.

The bus made good time and we made it to Dublin Port quickly. It was a beautiful day for Ireland, which meant it was only slightly rainy. I explained to the guests that we would board a specially designed tour boat and go out into the Muir Eireann, the sea of Ireland, and circle Lambay island. At the pier, Mr. Tully let all the passengers out but caught me as I was leaving.

“Miss Samantha darlin’” He didn’t sound as chipper as he usually did. “There’s a problem with the tour boat. Mr. Brennan’s boat caught fire two nights ago, engine fire...nasty smoke and all.”

I was expecting him to say that the captain was sick and we had to find a replacement, or that the boat was a mess from the last tour and we would have to wait while it was cleaned. The shock set me back for only a moment.

“Alright, thank you for telling me Mr. Tully. I’ll phone the office and see if we can’t find a new service and how quickly they can fit us in...we’ll have to get everyone back on the bus please.” I poked around in my travel bag for my phone but Mr. Tully’s worn hands stopped me.

            “No Miss, I’ve done that already.” He turned around and gestured to a boat that was docked near where we stood. A man was already ushering my guests onto his aged old fishing charter. It looked disastrous, the thing was loaded with nets and boxes that could easily trip my elderly tourists, not to mention the rust looked so shabby I was afraid it wouldn’t float.

            “Mr. Tully, I thank you for your help but I’m not so sure about this...my office doesn’t know about this.” I began walking towards the boat, determined to rescue my guests and return them to the cozy bus. The drizzle was increasing and I wasn’t sure how much longer they should be standing around in the open like that. Mr. Tully went on to tell me the rest of his story, how he had put the word out about our tour needing a boat...what a nice lady I was and how he was looking for a boat. He seemed surprised that this fishing captain jumped at the chance. I wasn’t as surprised, there were always people willing to make a buck. This captain was probably looking for some easy cash. Well, I decided that he wouldn’t be getting it from us.

            “Oh, Samantha dear, this is just fabulous. My husband was a fisherman before his hands got the arthritis...this is so much fun for him!” Mrs. Ostrum was delighted and shuffled off up to the deck of the old fishing trawler. She held her hands up and the captain leaned down to help her into his rust bucket of a boat. I marched up to him and stuck my hands to my hips. The absolute picture of confidence.

            “I’m glad you’re having a fun time Mrs. Ostrum but please don’t get comfortable, we won’t be staying long.” I fixed the captain with my most stern gaze and took in his full appearance.

            He was lean with an attractive runners build, unruly black hair and handsome green eyes. I caught myself checking him out unintentionally and chastised myself for it when I noticed that he’d seen me looking. His smirk was annoying and my first job was to wipe that smile off his face.

            “Ok, this is how it’s going to be. I will pay you-a small fee-for your time today. But we are going to get these people off your floating tetanus infection and back onto that comfortable bus.” I pointed behind myself dramatically to show him I was serious.

            “d’ya mean that bus?” he replied, flashing a smile and turning my head with his hands so I could see Mr. Tully pulling away with our bus.

            “No, no no” I sprinted down the walkway and waved my arms but it was no use. Apparently Mr. Tully did not effectively use his mirrors. I sulked back to the boat in defeat where the captain stood in the drizzle, his faded leather jacket and jeans darkened in splotches with the rain. I had to admit defeat.