Envisioning Hope (10 page)

She
didn't move.

I
was only scheduled to be here an hour and I had just wasted thirty minutes
getting to the side of the bed. In the deepest voice I could muster, I made my
demand known.

"Grab
the socks or I'm going to dress you and you're not going to like it!"

Instantly,
Hope threw her arms out violently as though she was swatting away a swarm of
bees. At this point, it registered that I wasn't hearing the television anymore
because her screams were drowning out the already overbearing noise in the
room. Her arms were flailing everywhere. She caught me once in the face as I
threw my body down on top of her.

"Get
out of here!" Hope screamed, over and over. "I'm not doing anything
you tell me to! Leave me alone!"

Hope's
body struggled underneath me and I allowed her to wear herself out. No one had
ever pushed her like this, I was sure of it. Of course, it was going to have
its drawbacks, but the outcome would be worth it.

I
heard the stampede of nurses and doctors pour into the room as she began to
slow her movements. I quickly raised my hands to let them know not to
intervene. Too many people had intervened, it wasn't going to happen again
while she was under my supervision.

Her
screams became quiet and throaty, having had screamed herself hoarse. As she
calmed, I put my face down to the side of her ear so that she could hear
everything I had to say.

"Shh,
it's done…you're done. Now that we have that out of the way, are you going to
sit up and put these socks on, or am I going to put them on for you? It's your
choice, but I can promise you, I'm not leaving here until these clothes are on
you. Got it?"

I
stayed where I was. Hope's breathing slowed to a normal rate as moved to rest
on my knees, taking some of my weight off of her. I waited for her to respond.

And
waited…

And
waited…

I
was done waiting. I got off, lowered myself to the floor, and picked up one of
her feet. She pulled it away. I went to grab it again when I heard the best
sound I've ever heard.

Hope's
voice.

"Give
me the goddamn socks. I'll put them on myself."

I
wasn't about to let her know, but on the inside, I was smiling huge.

Chapter 10

Four
Months Later

He
was coming.

Oliver
was coming and I wasn't in the mood for him to be bossy. I'd had that nightmare
again. I ran the back of my hand over my forehead, wiping the sweat from my
brow. I never went back to the place in my dream where I was happy. I would try
to coax myself by placing myself in that same chair, but I kept finding myself
in the one place I didn't want to be. The car, Charlie driving and me trying to
figure out a way to make us avoid the truck. My plan never worked. The
conclusion was always the same. A blinding burst of light would flash in my
head and then here I was, waking up to a life full of guilt and pain.

Oliver
had been coming every day since my freak out and every day was the same as the
first. If I don't get dressed, he would attempt to dress me.  One day I
actually tested him and was shocked when he actually started to do it.

I
learned not to test him again.

I
stood up from the bed and walked slowly to the small table that was directly in
the middle of the room. I reached my hand out and grasped the chair, feeling
the rough denim of my jeans that were lying across the back. Placing them on my
upper arm, I reached out again and clutched the more delicate cotton fabric of
my t-shirt.

I
still had the images of last night's dream in my head as I sat back down on the
bed. The explosion, the flash of light, it all seemed so real my stomach began
to churn. I was miles away from this hospital in a place I didn't want to be.
As many times as I had the dream over the last several months, I stopped
looking back at Sawyer. It made the reality of it all that much more difficult.
Waking up every morning, knowing you could only see your son again in your mind
right before he–

I
pulled myself back to my reality. I wouldn't say it. I couldn't. Bringing my
hands up to my neck, I began to untie the hospital gown's string. A deep,
demanding voice I had become used to spoke out of nowhere.

"Wait…
don't do that."

I
didn't even hear him come in. I was apparently too lost in thought to feel the
pressure change of the door being opened.

"What…why?
Don't you want me to get dressed? Isn't that why you come here every day? To
annoy me with your demands and activities?" I asked, my voice saturated
with extra sarcasm.

I
wanted to make sure he knew that I was riled up and really not in the mood for
today's lessons.

"The
nurse is going to help you take a shower while I wait in here. We're trying
some new exercises today."

I
rolled my eyes. I wasn't up for trying something new. Today, I wanted him to
leave and never come back. I wanted to crawl back in bed and try my hardest to
find the place where my happiness was with Charlie and Sawyer.

Throughout
the months, I had to say I was proud of myself. Giving Oliver his time, he had
taught me simple things. Actions that most of us would take for granted. Take,
for instance, pouring myself a glass of water. The deed seemed so easy in
thought, but was a difficult one to master. Taking a shower was another one I
found to be a bit challenging.

I
know that sounds strange and, don't get me wrong, I knew where the parts were.
It was trying to do all the tasks at one time in the pitch black that made it
challenging.  I had to wash, hold onto the handrail for balance, and make sure
I didn't miss a spot. It wasn't like I could check to see. Needless to say, I
got it down. I was now clean and I'm sure that the nurses were grateful to
Oliver for that success.

Other
accomplishments dealt with counting my steps around a room so that I could
memorize large surface areas just like I did in my room here at the hospital. I
now knew how to touch an object to find detail. I wasn't touching objects
anymore just to admire, I was handling them to find out exactly what they were.
The one task that I was thankful for, he helped me learn how to do a bit of
makeup. Oliver provided light tones as we practiced where to start the edge of
the pencil and how many swipes of the brush against the bronzer it would take
to give a slight color to my pale cheeks. I slowly began to feel like I was
getting back to my old life. Finding some type of independence was a good thing
for me.

Until
my mind wandered back to the one thing that kept me in here.

We
had fought several times after that first big power struggle, but as things
became easier to me, I began to pick my battles. I knew he was up for the
challenge, but I didn't want to spend time in that chair. Knowing him, he'd use
it. Hearing the sound of paper moving across the floor, I knew he was walking
in my direction. I stood up and turned toward the scuffling.

"I
know, I know…I'm going."

I
was not in the mood for fighting. Pushing the clothes back up on my arm, I
started toward the door where I knew the nurse would be waiting to take me down
to the showers. Just as I put my fingers around the knob, his voice caught my
attention.

"One
radio a day."

I
raised my head as though I was looking straight through the door. I knew what
he was talking about, in the last couple of weeks he began asking me about the
sounds in the room and I found myself ignoring his questions.  I knew I would
pick my battles but the sounds and lights were two battles he was not winning.

"Not
a chance."

I
turned around to show him that my decision was final. Those radios were my
sanity. I crossed my arms over my chest in a power stance that spoke the words
I didn't need to say.

"For
now."

That
was the only response I got, so I turned back to the door and turned the knob.

*
* *

"How
‘bout a field trip!" Oliver exclaimed as I came back into my room. That
was the reason they supplied me with shoes after my shower. I sucked the panic
back into my mouth as I drew in a heavy breath. I wasn't ready to go out of my
room, there was no way I was ready.

"No!"
I didn't waste any time letting him know exactly how I felt about his field
trip idea. How in the world could he think taking me out where life has gone on
as if nothing had ever happened could help me when I was barely able to leave
my hospital room? I turned around and placed my hand on the knob. Before I
could move any further, I heard his voice directly in my ear.

"Hope,
trust me…please?"

His
voice was soft and gentle, his breath wisped across my ear and I could feel his
question as the words left his mouth. It wasn't just a question, it was a
promise.

I
pulled my head up, his scent still in my nose and the sound of his question
still ringing in my ear.

Trust
him…why? I wasn't anyone to this man, how can I put my trust in someone that I
can't even see, let alone a man who is no more to me than a complete stranger?
The last time I put my trust in someone it got him killed.

"How?"
I whispered so softly, I wasn't even sure he could hear me. I felt his hand
cover mine and he spoke softly in my ear once more.

"It's
easy. Let go of the door and take my hand."

This
decision seemed like it was the hardest in my life. Turn the knob and go back
to where I was safe and secure, alone and lost in my thoughts, or take my hand
off and allow him to lead me to a place I didn't know and couldn't see?

I
wasn't ready for that.

My
grip on the door became tighter as I turned in his direction. He hadn't moved,
I could feel the heat of his skin directly in front of my face. I drew in a
breath and let it go…

"I'm
sorry."

As
soon as I finished the word, I flung the door open and hurried back into my
safe and secure world.

Flinging
my shoes off, I headed for my bed. I felt the pressure of the door being
opened.

"Sorry?
What the hell does that mean, Hope?" Oliver's voice was growing closer to
me and it sounded aggravated and intense. He was the one who was pissed off?
Because I didn't want to go on his little excursion, he was mad? Well, he'd
just have to get over that. "Explain it to me, Hope, because I thought we
were making progress! And, what is it with the radios and lights?" I
ignored the last part of the question again as I swallowed down my emotions and
answered with the best excuse I could come up with.

"I
don't feel well."

He
wasn't going to buy that. Hell, I didn't even buy it. I could hear the papers
being kicked up and out of the way as he came closer still.

"You
don't feel well?" He repeated my excuse and I realized just how ridiculous
it sounded. I bowed my head in regret, knowing I rightfully deserved this ass
reaming. I would rather take this than admit that I was weak and unwilling to
go back out into a world where I was alone and surrounded by darkness. That
world was beyond my control. At least in here I had some amount of control,
and, even then, I could barely deal with it all.

"For
the past several months, I have had to deal with your hard ass giving me
nothing but grief and rejection every time I turn around." At this
statement, I became rigid because that was so untrue. "When it came to
brushing your hair it was, ‘no, I have a headache'. When it came to putting
your clothes on it was, ‘no, I'm comfortable in this'. When it came to pouring
water into a cup it was, ‘no, it's too hard'." I slowly lowered my posture
in slight defeat; it was all true. I did fight him on everything, but I was not
about to admit to it. The trash on the floor started moving again as he began
walking. "I gave you the benefit of the doubt, but now you're gonna start
talking. First, answer my question that I know your ignoring on purpose. What's
with the sounds?"

I
was not about to let him into my head. Oliver Sheldon was here to help me with
everyday necessities, not to counsel me on why I have thirty-two electronics
playing at the same time.

And…
well, the excuses were none of his business. If I wouldn't even talk to my
family, why the hell would he think I'd talk to him? I went to lie back down in
my bed when his footsteps became faster, harder.

"Oh,
no you don't!" he yelled as I felt his arms grip my shoulders, pulling me
back up to a sitting position. The bed dipped further as he took a seat beside
me and pulled me closer to him. Panic began to rise in me. I wasn't ready to
answer these questions and I sure as shit wasn't ready to be made to answer
them.

"What's
with the excuses, Hope?" he asked as he gave my shoulders a small squeeze.
His hands felt nice on me, I hadn't felt someone's hands on me in over a year.
I shook my head at the thoughts of his touch and brought my attention back to
the subject at hand.