Shaking Off the Dust (2 page)

“Open your eyes so I know if you can see me.”

My eyes flew open and there was Dr. Tom Mecurio in my face again. It was suddenly so much worse.

“Go away. I’m not going to be crazy. I refuse to see or hear you.”

“You can hear me. That’s very good.” He sat in the only chair in the room.

“All kinds of firsts today, almost struck by lightning and now a hallucination.”

“Call me Tom. I am praying that you are not confused and will continue to see and hear me. Once you’re feeling better, we have a lot to talk about.” He didn’t look like he was going to be patient about my recovery.

The door opened and Martha came in, syringes in hand. “I’m here to medicate. I need to redo the dressing on your burned hand. I’ll let the medication kick in and I’ll be back with the supplies.” She gave me the meds, placed a cool compress over my eyes and dimmed the lights. I was almost smiling when she closed the door.

“Do you feel better?” Tom asked.

“Um, much. Now go away or be a very quiet, hallucination.” My tongue felt thick and my mouth was dry from the drugs.

“Fine, I’ll go out and see what’s going on with the press.”

I pushed the compress from my eyes long enough to see if he was still with me. He was gone.

I don’t know how much time passed, it didn’t seem but a minute or two, when a cool breeze from the door opening signaled someone had entered my room.

“Miss Campbell.”

I didn’t recognize the voice. I jerked when a hand touched my shoulder.

“My name is Mike Freeman. I’m with Channel 62 news. Could you answer some questions about what happened to you this afternoon?”

“No, go away,” I said softly. I didn’t want to scream. In fact I doubted I could get my voice that loud without my head falling off.

“Just one quote, Miss Campbell. Tell me how you feel about surviving that lightning strike? People say you are permanently marked on your hand. How does that make you feel?”

“No comment. Get out of my room. Please,
get out
of my room,” I called out as loud as I could. I pulled the compress off my face.

I stared as if watching a movie in slow motion as the beautiful Asian doctor appeared and in one graceful movement lifted the reporter off his feet and set him back down outside my door. My jaw was hanging open when he came to my bedside.

“Are you all right? Security is busy arguing with the media about patient privacy.”

I needed to get away from this weird circus I’d been thrown into. I started to rise and he was there, blocking my way.

“Where are you going, Miss Campbell?” He lifted my legs back into the bed.

“I don’t want to be here in the middle of all this.” I tried to get up, falling forward against his torso. He caught me around the waist.

“You really must stay. Lie down and close your eyes.” He spoke softly.

I burst into tears. Weird thoughts blazed around in my head. The need to leave all this confusion behind and get to my familiar bed took hold of me. Some detached portion of my brain registered all my surroundings, especially the beautiful man who was offering me comfort. “No. I need to go home.”

I expected him to have that look men get when women cry. That confused and frustrated face. But he didn’t. He touched my cheek where the tears were hot against my skin, then picked me up in his arms and sat down on the bed holding me.

I lay my head on his chest and sighed heavily. He felt warm and I was so tired. “Will you take me home?”

“I don’t think Dr. Perez will like that. Go to sleep, you’ll be fine.” His chest rumbled as he spoke.

He was rhythmically tapping on my right wrist. I could hear his heartbeat through the scrubs he wore, it was slow and steady like a metronome. The thought flashed through my mind that he must have changed his wet clothes. While I remained in a hideous patient gown, my hair still wet and streaked with ash.

I must have fallen asleep. Someone held my injured hand as the dressing on the burn was removed. I was still pressed against the body of an angel in scrubs. However, his thumbs were positioned firmly into each side of my left wrist. “I’m having the strangest dreams.”

“I’d be having nice dreams, too, if I were that close to Dr. Shimodo.” Martha worked quickly to change the dressing and apply medication to my hand.

“It’s not hurting. How did you do that?” I asked, waking up more.

“Dr. Shimodo is applying pressure over the nerves that send those pain signals. It’s like a Chinese nerve block. Unfortunately, as soon as he lets go, it will start to throb again.” Martha was my favorite nurse at

the moment.

“Thank you.” I stared at the angles and planes of his face. He looked like a fashion model, one of those androgynous, beautiful males who sell cologne in
Cosmo
ads. “You smell good. Almost as tasty as you look. Is it hard to be that attractive?”

“Go back to sleep,” Shimodo insisted in a deep amused voice.

He was tapping on my wrist again. My eyes started to droop shut.

“What the hell happened?” Tom demanded. “When did Takeshi get in bed with you and why is he caressing your face like that?”

“Hush, Tom, he’s being nice. I need to sleep now. You can too, if you want.” I never opened my eyes.

My shoulder grew cold and I shivered until Shimodo pulled the cover over us both. His fingers brushed my face again. It felt wonderful. Too bad it was all a dream.

The night passed in a haze. They moved me to a private room and Tom Mecurio was there every time I opened my eyes. My angel-in-scrubs was gone.

Every few hours someone checked on me and found some little task they needed to do. I was exhausted by daylight. The cardiologist arrived the next morning and I begged him to let me go home. He reviewed my labs results and agreed I could come back for more tests in a few days. He put me off work until then.

“I’m going to follow him out and see if I can get a glimpse of your lab results.” Tom glided right through the door.

“Hey, haven’t you heard of HIPPA, the federal privacy act,” I called to the door.

I’d have taken that opportunity to dress, but I didn’t have a change of clothes. I leaned against my pillows, wondering if I was truly schizophrenic or whether it was a side effect of the electrocution process. I considered all the electrocuted patients I’d treated in the last ten years and couldn’t recall any of them confessing to auditory or visual hallucinations. Of course, I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone either, so that didn’t mean they were not common.

Tom came striding through the door, not the doorway. That takes some getting used to. I shook my head trying to clear it. Something was different about him today and it took me a moment to figure it out.

“When did you change into scrubs?”

“I always wear them when I’m in the hospital. Apparently whatever I think I should wear, I wear. It was disconcerting the first few times I changed clothes.” He sat on the end of the bed to stare at me like I was quite fascinating. “You have no idea how unexpected it is that you of all people are able to see and hear me. I’d given up hope of ever communicating with anyone.”

“So, why do you suppose I’m hallucinating you? I realize your name has been in the paper a lot and everyone acts like they were your great buddies. But I never aspired to be your friend. Why would you be in my psyche?”

He gave me an appraising look. “I am dead, so I guess I’m technically a ghost or spirit. I believe that you and I formed a bond when you inhaled my ashes and were struck by lightning.”

“I wasn’t struck by lightning. I was an innocent bystander. I’d be very dead if it had actually hit me.

Besides, I know it’s odd to say, but I can’t see you as a ghost?” Okay, so that was a stupid comment.

He glanced at me with that raised eyebrow, as if he agreed. “Well, surprise.”

“I mean you are one of those people who I thought left nothing to chance. Shouldn’t you have moved on to the next world? Based on every book and movie I’ve seen or read, you must have unfinished business here. I can’t see you leaving anything to chance. Very anal retentive.” I crossed my arms. Having given my unbiased and unsolicited opinion, I awaited rebuttal.

A smile almost crossed his face. “Yes, we all know it is such a well-researched area. Despite your Netflix account, I’m not inclined to concede your expertise on the matter. Let’s pretend you are right and there is unfinished business. Only one major event would fall under that category. The plane crash was a terrorist act. What if I know something that could help find the people who got that explosive on board?”

“What do you know?” Okay, I was having an excellent hallucination.

“That’s just it. I don’t remember seeing anything of importance, but I have this nagging feeling that I did.”

He shrugged.

“Great, are you going to hang around until you figure it out?” I sounded bitchy, but another few hours of this was going to make me believe he was real. “Keep in mind, if you ask me to do bad things, I will be forced to confide in Vicki, and she’ll think it great fun and tell the entire ER. By the time they tell the x-ray department and lab, I’ll be forced to get counseling. I imagine a large amount of psych drugs could ruin this relationship.”

He burst out laughing and I shook my head. He
was
a hallucination, because the living Tom Mecurio never manifested a sense of humor. “So glad you find my psychosis amusing.”

Vicki burst through the door. “Hey, girl, your nurse said you could go as soon as you sign your life away. She’ll be here any minute with the papers. I heard you’ve been sleeping around again, climbing into any man’s bed. Though, in this case he climbed into yours. That was a good trick, pretending to be afraid and drugged up. I’ll give you points for originality.”

I gasped. “That really happened? I thought I was having a weird drug dream.” I never expected to see Dr. Shimodo again, but I’d be totally embarrassed if I did. “Please tell me you have clothes for me to wear out of here?”

“Yep, I brought scrubs and we plan to sneak you out by the employee entrance to avoid any media.

You were on CNN. The footage from the memorial service went national, it’s been broadcasting all day.

It’s pretty cool. You can see the electricity arc up from the ground and the urn lid sparks before it flies out of your hand. Down you go, like a stone.”

“Lovely,” I muttered.

Two hours later we walked out of the hospital without any problems, even with a white bandage on my hand. Vicki carried the brown paper bag that held my ash-and mud-covered black dress.

Vicki drives like she talks, with increasing speed and odd breaking patterns; it was a recipe for carsickness. Tom sat in the backseat. I didn’t dare peek at him, but he complained about Vicki’s lack of

driving skills and I had to work hard not to laugh.

As we pulled up to my house, I turned to her. “Do you mind if I go in alone? I didn’t get much sleep last night and I just want to crawl into bed, take a pill and go to sleep.”

She looked at me, I thought she might take it wrong, but she shook her head instead. “You really are a crotchety old hag.”

“Yeah, I know. Love you too.” I got out of the car.

“Seriously, are you sure you don’t need anyone to hang around in case you start feeling worse?”

“Thanks for asking, but I’m feeling much better today.” Except for the hallucinations. “I promise to call if I need anything, even a bedtime story. I’ve had way too much attention and I’m ready to have some alone time.”

“My cell phone is on, call when you get bored.” Vicki waited in my driveway until I got inside.

I walked into my cool, dark living room and dropped my keys on the entranceway table. I flipped on the light and stared at my reflection in the mirror, shaking my head. I looked like shit. If the circles under my eyes got any darker, I would officially be pronounced dead. My bandaged hand hurt like a fresh knife cut. I hated it when my life got interesting.

I glanced over to the officially dead person as he walked around checking out the other rooms. “Don’t mind me,” I yelled. “Make yourself at home.”

Tom had the good grace to be embarrassed. “Will you be going straight to your room to sleep?” He sat on the couch.

“I’m going to shut the light off and sit in that big lounger right over there. I’m going to close my eyes and if my psychotic break progresses as I expect it will, I shouldn’t doubt you will regale me with tales of the deceased.” I closed my eyes the second my fanny hit the lounger and put my feet up, sighing heavily.

“How’s your head?” he inquired like a doctor during an office visit.

“It’s only a mild throb at this moment. I’m not sure if my heart is racing because of you or my other recent shock.”

“Is everything a joke to you?”

I looked over at him. It was late morning and my living room curtains were dark, but the blinds were partially open. Large patches of sunlight streaked across the couch. He sat on one, appearing solid enough to me. It seemed as if he was even causing the cushion to bend a little.

“My life’s one big cosmic joke, Mecurio. I figured I’d at least try to be in on the gag.” I put my feet up on the footrest. “Did laughing ever make your…existence the better?”

He shook his head. “Call me Tom. I expect we’ll see a lot of each other until we figure this out.”

“Whether you’re a real spirit or my imagination is yet to be determined. I’ll wait until I know which one before we get all informal. I maintain a very select list of ghostly friends, but you are my first

hallucination.”

“You keep saying that. Let’s assume I am not from your imagination, but I am here, in your living room.”

He spoke with an undertone of coaxing.

“Then tell me, Tom Mecurio, what are you?”

“Just Tom, please. I’m not sure what I have become. Best guess is a ghost. I’ve been dead twenty-four days. In that time, I’ve not felt hunger or slept or used the bathroom.” He sounded like he always did.

Clinical.

“What do you do? Does time pass like it does for us?” I figured I might as well find out what my subconscious believed.

“The time passes normally. At first it was alarming, but I’ve been exploring my…” He stopped, looking stunned.