Chapter Three
There was a clock ticking loudly. His head did not really hurt so strangely enough, he didn’t mind. Michael lay there, listening to the clock, sorting through his memories of the last few moments that he could recall.
He could not speak. Not properly anyways. He might as well be mute. He took a deep breath and let it out gustily. He was not sure how to handle this.
Instantly a hand was holding his and another hand had found its way to his cheek. He turned his head to see Ann smiling at him.
“Hi sleepyhead. How do you feel?”
He was thirsty. His throat felt like it was swallowing rocks. His head barely hurt but he suspected that was the drugs. Michael could see and there were no ominous floating dark clouds around. He was grateful that she was there.
What could he say? He squeezed her hand instead.
“Are you in any pain?”
He shook his head no. It was insignificant.
“Would you like some water?”
He nodded and she helped him sit up. Drinking from the straw was like sucking down cut glass. He winced. Michael motioned for her to return the water to the side table. Leaning back, he watched her.
“Dr. Hemmond was by. He said that everything went as well as it could during the surgery,” she looked down at their joined hands and he realized that Ann knew.
She knew about his mixing up words. The doctor had probably explained it to her.
He swallowed thickly and instantly regretted it, his throat raw.
He stared up at the ceiling. He was permanently damaged.
“Noah keeps calling. I shut your phone off because everyone from the board was calling but Noah is now phoning my cell. He is left a few voice messages.”
Michael didn’t really care about the board at the moment.
“I think I should tell him where you are,” softly said Ann.
Michael looked at her sharply. He was not certain he wanted Noah to know just yet. He felt like he needed some time to assimilate what had happened before it was shared.
“Both he and Max deserve to know. They are your brothers.”
Michael hoped it was sympathy and not pity in her eyes.
He didn’t want anyone’s pity. He looked at Ann again.
It was not fair to expect her to stay. At some point Noah and Max would have to learn the truth.
Perhaps it was best they did know then Ann could go if that was what she wanted to do.
He wanted her to stay though. Her presence was comforting.
Conflicted, he nodded, giving her permission.
Ann rummaged around in her purse and came up with her cell phone. She dialed up Noah is number and put him on speaker so that Michael could hear the conversation.
“Ann! Where is he?” Noah sounded agitated. “Is Michael with you?”
“Yes,” Ann barely got to say the word before Noah interrupted.
“What on earth was he thinking?” Noah exploded. “The board is in turmoil. If this gets leaked to the press the stocks are going to dip. He has put the company in a bad place. Why would he quit? He always wanted to be head of the company.”
Actually, his father had wanted him to be head of the company.
Michael had simply done as he had been told to do.
He was not sure that he ever really truly wanted the position, now that he thought about it.
Head of the legal department had been challenging, interesting. Head of the entire company? Daunting.
“Put him on the phone.”
“I can’t,” Ann said calmly.
“Excuse me? Is he refusing to speak to me? If he is doing that silent ‘I know better than you’ routine, you can tell him where to put it. He left me with this mess, and he knows I hate the politics of the board. I am a simple scientist who likes being in charge of the labs. He cannot stick me with any of this. None of it was supposed to be my responsibility.”
Michael was confused. What responsibility?
Ann saw his expression and understood. “Who is trying to stick you with responsibility Noah?”
“The board! They are deciding between Gains and I to run the company. Something about having a Ramesly in charge for the past sixty years, tradition is important to shareholders and the business community, blah, blah, blah,” Noah took a deep breath. “I would like to talk to him Ann.”
“He is on speaker.”
“Michael, you need to come back,” Noah sounded exhausted. “I can’t do this.”
Michael stared at Ann. He felt impotent. There was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could say.
“Noah, we are at the hospital,” Ann kept his gaze and took his hand in hers again. “Michael has just had surgery.”
“What?” asked a surprised Noah.
“What?” a second voice came on the line.
Ann smiled for a moment. “Hi Max.”
“We are both in the conference room. No one else is here. Did you say surgery?” questioned Max.
“Yes,” Ann replied.
“For what?”
Ann bit her lip then steadily replied. “They found a mass in his brain. Two masses, actually. The surgeon took them out this morning.”
Michael wondered what time it was. He looked at his wrist automatically, but his watch was not there.
He supposed it really didn’t matter. Ann saw what he was about and showed him hers.
It was one of those digital Fitbit things.
The numbers were mixed up. There was no way there was ninety-eight minutes in an hour.
Michael looked at it in confusion before gently letting go of her wrist.
“Cancer?” Noah asked.
Ann looked at Michael. She didn’t know. Michael shrugged. He didn’t know. They would have to wait for the test results to come back.
“He doesn’t know yet.”
“Is he okay?” Max enquired.
There was a long pause before Max repeated the question. Michael certainly didn’t have an answer for that question either. He and Ann stared at each other.
“He is going to be okay,” Ann said shakily. She pulled her hand out of his and wiped a tear from her face. “I have to go.”
“Ann, what -” she clicked the end call button and then shut off her phone before tossing it back into her purse. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “Oh, Michael.”
He slowly sat up and silently held out a hand to her. He ignored the dizziness and nausea as she took his hand and sat on the bed with him. She hugged him, resting her head on his collarbone, under his chin. He wished she is stay there forever.
“Dr. Hemmond gave me a list of all these complications that could happen. Strokes, aneurisms, seizures, infection from the surgery, the mass could be cancer…” she sniffled. “Don’t you dare die.”
Michael held her a little tighter. The ticking sound drew his attention to the wall, and he saw an analogue clock.
He might not know if it was morning or afternoon, but he could read this clock.
It was five, either am or pm. For a moment, he felt a little better.
Then he saw a chart on the wall and none of it made any sense.
There was his name, Michael, he recognized.
After that, there were words written like they had been picked at random.
Letters were not in order. He tried to reread his name, but it was now a mess as well.
Maybe it was not his name after all written there.
How could he be certain? Maybe his mind had played a trick on him.
A ball of despair filled his stomach. Ann leaned back, looking at his face.
“Michael, what is it?” she asked softly, sensing something was wrong.
He gestured to the wall, the chart mocking him.
“The chart?” At his nod she began to read it. “It says your doctor is Dr. Hemmond. Your nurse is Kelly. That you have had brain surgery to remove two masses. That you are not to have any solids yet…”
She trailed off as he gulped in air. He could not read it.
He could see it perfectly, but he could not read it.
If he could not read, he could not write.
He had written every single day since he learned how.
He could not imagine not writing. An understanding of what he had truly lost grew darkly.
He buried his aching head in her shoulder and the shattering sobs came.
He would rather have the pounding migraines back with the dark specters chasing whoever they wished.
He could hear the nurse come in. She placed a hand on his shoulder and talked to Ann. Her voice was full of sympathy, “I am going to get Mr. Ramesly a sedative to help him rest.”
Michael felt Ann nod and he could hear the squeak of the nurse is shoes as she left.
He was exhausted. He slumped against Ann, wiping his eyes and soon enough the little nurse returned.
He assumed her name was Kelly. It said so on the board according to Ann.
She helped Ann settle him back on the pillows. She held up a pill and the water.
He would have told her that it hurt too much to swallow but he had no words, so he simply took the pill and swallowed it with the water. He leaned back and closed his eyes, wishing this nightmare was over.
Kelly took Ann outside of the room and he could hear them discussing him.
Something about speech therapy to find different ways to communicate around his new disability.
Therapy or counselling for the likely depression that he might experience over the loss of being able to communicate effectively.
Michael wanted to say that he could hear them.
He wanted to say that his mind was not deficient in understanding exactly what was going on.
He wanted to say that he was still here.
Of course, he said nothing at all.
∞
Ann listened to the nurse and thanked her for the pamphlets. She would add them to the growing number of papers in her purse. For some reason everyone seemed to assume she was his wife or long-term girlfriend. Ann did not dissuade them. It was easier to get admittance to Michael this way.
Kelly hesitated. “Perhaps, while he is sleeping you would like to have something to eat? Run a few errands? Go home and relax? He will be asleep for six or more hours likely which would give you some time to recharge.”