All Jerry could hear were the
hisses and beeps that came from the life support machines on the other side of
the wall, so it surprised him when Dr. Kleiner suddenly spoke. “How is she
doing?”
“Dr. Kleiner!” Jerry snapped to
attention, pulling his feet off the desk. “I’m sorry, I-”
“It’s alright, Jerry. I know this
assignment is boring.” She looked through the glass, inlaid with fine wire mesh,
and watched the comatose patient. “How is she doing?”
“Well, her vitals are normal and
all. No spikes, but there were the occasional dips. Nothing out of the
ordinary, really. It’s like she, well, it’s like she’s missing her head.”
“In a sense she is.” She sighed. “Kind
of fitting, don’t you think?”
The patient showed no signs of trauma.
Except for her ghostly pink lips she appeared to only be sleeping and likely to
wake up refreshed at any moment. This made the tubes and nodes connected to her
seem very unnecessary. Jerry and the other nurses assigned to her had learned
to watch by listening, as actually watching manifested in them a subtle madness
that would grow exponentially if allowed. Dr. Kleiner, however, seemed immune.
“It really is a shame. So full of
life and yet confined to a tiny little room.” Dr. Kleiner bit her thumb and
furrowed her brow “…the harsh light doesn’t do her any favors either.”
“I dunno, doctor. She looks fine to
me.” Jerry said, typing away at the keyboard, unaware of the look she gave him.
“You think she’s pretty.”
“Well yeah. Everybody does, don’t
they? She’s a beautiful tragedy. People love that.”
Dr. Kleiner looked at him a moment
longer, then resumed her gaze on the patient. “I’m sure the money helps too.”
“Money?” Jerry finally looked at
her. He thought he might have seen a hint of a smirk.
“Of course. We’re a fairly large
hospital. Not every coma patient gets this kind of treatment. Didn’t you ever
wonder why she’s been under near constant surveillance?”
“I have, but… I just figured she
was, I dunno, new?”
“Oh, that’s right.” She laughed. “You
only just transferred here a few weeks ago. Her parents are exceedingly wealthy.”
“I never see them though. If they
care so much-”
“They care by throwing money at the
problem, Jerry. She’s been here over seven months now. No change.”
Jerry froze, his finger stuck on
the ‘O’ key, making it repeat across the screen. He looked into the room,
focused on the sterile walls and machines that had been housing and sustaining
the girl. After a few moments he realized his hand was on the keyboard and
fixed the error, which had become a long, shouting paragraph. He got up from
his chair and approached the window, facing it straight on. He spared a glance
at the patient then looked to Dr. Kleiner.
~~~
continued in Stranger and Fiction Anthology 3
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