9. Makenna
Makenna
I don’t remember falling asleep. In fact, I’m not sure what the last thing I remember is, but I obviously fell asleep because now I’m waking up to beeping and the hum of voices.
My eyes are dry and stuck together, but eventually I manage to open them halfway and find two men standing at the foot of my bed.
I’d be concerned, but there’s a pleasant buzz zipping around my body.
Nothing bad can happen. Everything is certainly fine.
“Have I died? Maybe that’s why my body feels so weird. Those men are wearing white. Maybe they’re angels.” I blink to clear my foggy eyes and notice one of them is wearing glasses. “Angels don’t wear glasses. They have perfect eyesight.”
“Maybe even better than perfect,” one of the angels says.
“Does it always beep in heaven? It’s kinda annoying and I don’t think things in heaven are supposed to be annoying. Or do I just have a bad attitude? I’m not normally like this.” Tears fill my eyes.
The same angel speaks again. “You don’t have a bad attitude. And this isn’t heaven.”
“That’s good. I wasn’t quite ready to go, and eternity is a long time to listen to beeping.”
The shorter angel … man … speaks up. “You’ve had surgery, and everything went well.”
I struggle to clear my throat. The first man holds a cup of water to my mouth. I take a sip and nod my thanks to the man. Even though my eyes won’t focus on him, I can tell he’s tall. I can tell that for sure as he looms over my bed like a gargoyle. This thought makes me laugh.
As my fit of giggles subsides, I blink and try to focus my eyes on the first man.
Their accents finally register in my brain. “Are you guys Scottish? I’ve always wanted to go to Scotland.”
“Aye, we are. And you’re in Scotland,” the gargoyle says.
“I’m sorry, but I would know if I were in Scotland,” I say. My eyes seem to be working much better now, and I take in the shorter man. He reminds me of a glasses-wearing sloth. I’m not sure why.
The taller one, who has moved back to stand near the first, chuckles. “I’m not sure you would at the moment.”
“Whoa. You’re a tall drink of beautiful water.
” The man has the most beautiful red hair.
Dark, but not quite auburn. It’s on the shorter side of shaggy.
And his neatly trimmed beard is a bit lighter than his hair.
My foggy mind insists he’s familiar, though I can’t say why. Maybe he looks like someone famous.
“Miss Fore,” the other man says. “You’re in Inverness, Scotland, in the hospital. You’ve had your appendix removed. I’m Dr. Johnson; I was your surgeon. This is Dr. Robertson. He was the doctor who saw you in the emergency department.”
“Dr. Handsome looks like he’d be a good singer,” I whisper to Dr. Johnson. Of all the things to pop into my mind.
This Dr. Johnson man is all business. He doesn’t even smile. I hear the other doctor chuckle again. It’s almost as if he heard me.
“Your surgery went well, and you’re going to be just fine,” Dr. Johnson says. He seems in a hurry.
“I can take it from here, if that’s alright,” the handsome doctor whose name I can’t remember says.
“Fine by me,” I say under my breath, but they both look at me. Dr. Handsome raises his eyebrows at me, as if he heard. He must have fantastic hearing, because I know I was quiet. I’ve always been good at whispering when necessary.
“I expect her to be fine to leave the day after tomorrow,” Dr. Johnson says, handing Dr. Handsome a small stack of papers before leaving.
“Alright, Makenna—”
“Ooo. My name sounds so good when you say it,” I interrupt. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem the least bit perturbed that I’ve misplaced my manners.
He smiles, and I notice the beeping in the room speed up. What’s that about? He looks somewhere to the left of me and his smile grows. I guess it’s not a bad thing.
“I brought your personal belongings up. Can I help you call the people you’re traveling with?”
People I’m traveling with? People I’m traveling with? I’m in Scotland. Hang on … I went on a hike. I was alone. I got really sick. I had to drive.
Tears spring from my eyes. “I left my rental car at a church somewhere. What if it’s not okay for it to sit there? I have to go get it. Do you think I could leave today?”
Dr. Handsome steps closer. There’s something familiar about him, though I can’t put my finger on what. I think I know him, but that’s crazy. “Slow down. I’m sure it’s fine. Whoever you’re with is likely taking care of it.” His voice is soothing, but his words are not.
I’m suddenly overwhelmed with how alone I am, and I don’t want to talk with this doctor anymore. I close my eyes. “Can we finish this later?”
“Of course. I’ll come back in a bit. Hopefully you’ll be feeling better. Can I get you anything?” He asks, but I only shake my head in answer before darkness takes me under.