Operation Subdue

by R. J. Castille

  Before I knew what was happening, Riley rushed toward me and snatched the paper from my trembling grasp. Her mouth was moving but my head was swimming. I reached out and tried to take it back as she balled it up and threw it across the room. My gaze followed it as it hit the wall and fell to the floor. The buzzing in my ears was deafening and I reacted harshly, pushing Riley away hard and scurrying toward the place where my fate lie in waiting.

  I did not have enough wits about me to realize that she had fallen, her head striking the end table next to our bed. I heard the sound. but my mind was on a one-track route to rescue the document that had enlightened us both. She lay still on the ground when I finally turned around, the ball of paper held in my hand. Racing toward her, I dropped to my knees, stroking her soft skin with my hand, tears welling up from deep within my soul and spilling out over the edge.

  It felt terrible to know I had inadvertently caused Riley harm. She was only concerned with my well-being, the source of my angst something she wanted to get as far away from me as possible, and I had done the unthinkable. She lay crumpled on the floor, her eyes closed tight against the world. I watched as a small drop of blood flowed down from her temple and dripped onto the floor. Horrified, I pulled her into my embrace, cradling her tightly and rocking her back and forth. It may have been more to soothe myself than her, but I continued that way until her eyes fluttered open again.

  “I was just trying to help you,” Riley croaked up at me, her face blurred through a veil of tears as I looked down at her. She was hurt, in more ways than one and I was the culprit. I had been blinded, my mind preoccupied with what waited for me the next day at work and had disregarded her concern at every turn. If anyone deserved to be protected, it was her. My Riley had always done right by me and I had been the one to deliver a crushing blow.

  “Riley, please, it was an accident. I am so sorry, what can I do to make you forgive me,” I sobbed as I spoke, my sentences chopped up by my effort to get myself back under control. I kept seeing her fall, her head strike the furniture and her body thudding to the floor. I would never forgive myself for my actions but hoped that she would see it for what it was. Induced by fear and the anxiety of things yet to come, I had left reason behind and run blindly down the path I was headed.

  “Yeah, well,” and that was all she said as she sat up, pushing herself out of my grasp. I could tell she was upset with me, and she had every right to be, but I still reached toward her to comfort her. She flinched, cowering away from my touch, an action that broke my heart. I had it coming, but it still pained me to no end that Riley was angry with me enough to deny me her touch. That was a first.

  “Seriously, Riley. I was caught up in the moment. That document is the only link to what they are doing at Kellogg. I need it and I guess my body took over. My mind was somewhere else. I swear, I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose, you know that,” my voice trailed off when I saw her face. She stared at me, her eyes burning a hole right through me as I waited for her to respond.

  “THAT,” her finger pointed at the ball of paper still in my death grip, “has been nothing but trouble since you brought it home. THAT is the reason you are in trouble and you are acting like it is a chunk of gold. I want nothing to do with it, keep whatever it is to yourself from now on.” She stood, steadied herself on the edge of the bed, turned and stalked quickly out of the room leaving me to my own thoughts.

  I watched her retreat. Her body language spoke volumes as she left. Riley was very angry with me, I could tell by her posture, and that did not happen very often. She was usually very easy going, taking everything with a grain of salt and bent on enjoying life rather than focusing on anything negative. My rock, my foundation, and I had not only hurt her physically but also emotionally. It was something I had never done and I was beside myself with grief.

  Instead of following her and begging for her forgiveness, I stayed put, my feet frozen in place. Based solely on the look on her face immediately after what had transpired, I knew I was in for it, I just didn’t know how long it would take for Riley to act. It wasn’t like me to be so emotionally charged but the entire situation had me on edge. I had no other excuse and I knew it was what caused me to leave her to herself. It would likely be best if I gave her some space and time to get over what had just happened.

  Smoothing the paper as best I could, I dropped it onto the surface of the bed. My eyes still trained on the words before me, my vision swam, and I felt light-headed. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, my head aching from where it hit the ground and I was staring at the ceiling. I assumed I passed out, the whole ordeal overwhelming me. Shaking my head slightly, I sat up slowly, my hand finding its way to the large lump on the side of my head. At least Riley and I were even, both of us sporting brand new injuries to our heads. Both injuries my fault, I let my face fall into my hands before the flood gates opened and the tears came with a vengeance.

  The rest of the night was awkward at best. Riley gave me the silent treatment as we ate the meal she had went through so much trouble to make. I attempted to thank her for the wonderful food, but my sentiments fell on deaf ears. Not a peep in response, which I knew was a result of my own actions but was still frustrating. After we ate, I cleaned the dishes, an attempt at making up for everything to no avail. As the night wore on, the silence between us became deafening.

  As I lay awake that night replaying the days’ events in my head, I cried. The tears flowed silently as I sobbed as quietly as I could. Riley lay next to me, facing away from me instead of cradled in my arms as usual. I had let myself get out of control over a stupid piece of paper, something I would kick myself for forever. Instead of kissing my angel goodnight and bidding her a good night’s sleep, I lay there contemplating what I had done.

  Realization slammed into me like a truck as I wept. It wasn’t just me who was in danger, it was anyone I had welcomed into the situation, and that included Riley. Neither of us had a clue how much trouble we could be in but not knowing was worse than facing whatever it was that we were in for, of that I was certain.

  Sometime later, the sand man finally did his job and I was swallowed by the darkness. Plagued by nightmares of being chased through the halls of Kellogg Premier, an unknown assailant close at my heels as I moved. I was screaming for help, the ghostly figures around me ignoring my cries as I went.

  Suddenly, I was standing in the center of a room, the only source of light coming from a single bulb dangling from the ceiling and hovering above a chair. Seated there was a woman, her face not visible as I approached. Upon reaching her and placing one hand on her arm, I realized she was secured at the wrists and ankles with metal handcuffs. As I watched, she lifted her face to look into my eyes. I froze, it was Riley. She had been crying and her eyes were surrounded with puffiness as if she hadn’t slept in days. Blood-streaked eyes regarded me with a dead pan stare as I backed up slowly. When my back hit the wall behind me, I still couldn’t tear my eyes away from Riley’s tortured face.

  Riley opened her mouth to speak as I jerked awake, sitting straight up in my bed. Looking around, I noticed that she was lying next to me still, her soft, even breathing told me that she was enjoying some much-deserved rest. I smiled in the darkness, stroking her hair as I lay back down. Closing my eyes tight, I offered a silent prayer to anyone who was listening to protect her above all others. No matter what happened to me, Riley did not deserve to pay the penalty for something that I alone had done.

  -13-

  Ragan

  It was her and I knew it. Nurse Cooper was in my room taking vitals and writing things on my chart without so much as a glance. She appeared unnerved to see me and busied herself with her duties to avoid an awkward conversation. Over her shoulder, I saw a female figure leaning against the counter of the nurses’ station just outside. She was staring across the space directly at Ms. Cooper, watching her every move. For whatever reason, the nurse I had met at the urgent care department some months ago was under the watch
ful eye of her superiors.

  After she left, I breathed a little easier. That is until my cardiologist entered the room. Her mere presence enveloped the room in a blanket of cold as I waited for her to finish rambling about more tests and being discharged shortly. It was shocking that I was to be released so soon, having no answers yet again. You would think that after ending up in the emergency room following a nasty spill in my living room, someone would sit up and take notice. Apparently not at Kellogg Premier.

  By the end of the day, I was being discharged and sent home. Roger waited at the curb; passenger door wide open by the time we reached the car. Nurse Cooper pushed from behind, stopped short of the edge of the sidewalk and put the wheelchair brakes on. She helped me stand slowly. I used her arm to brace myself as she pulled me up using her own weight as leverage. Roger appeared at my other side, offering his arm to steady myself for a moment as I turned toward the familiar face behind me.

  “Ms. Jensen,” she said at barely a whisper, “I need to tell you something secret. I can’t here, I need to do it where they can’t see me. Can I please contact you somehow, once I get home?” Her tone told me she was deadly serious, the look on her face confirmed that notion. I nodded, her mannerisms telling me that, whatever it was, there was a risk of someone nearby seeing or hearing my response. Roger’s eyes locked onto mine as they both lowered me into the car. “I will contact you directly.” Elaine Cooper buckled me in and shut the door before taking the brakes off of the wheelchair and heading back inside.

  Roger drove slowly, almost at a snail’s pace. I became annoyed but only because I wanted to get home and take a hot bath. Staying in the hospital wasn’t a glamorous thing, you often went without a good, long shower and had to brush your teeth in a small, porcelain sink affixed to the wall. I let my head roll back against the headrest, my gaze wandering outside as we made our way back home.

  I was relieved it was over as Roger pulled into the parking area of the community we called home. A hop, skip, and a jump, and we were safely inside our humble abode. Taking in a deep, cleansing breath, I allowed the warmth of my surroundings to soothe me, the familiar sounds and scents of my home-sweet-home filling all of my senses at once. The distant smell of roses had me curious, it wasn’t there before. I turned my head to greet a large vase stuffed to the brim with long-stem roses. My eyes misted as I looked back at Roger who was standing nearby with the biggest grin on his face that I had ever seen him wear.

  Roger had already set things up in preparation of my arrival. He even went so far as buying extra pillows to make me more comfortable as I rested and recovered. It warmed my heart that he was going through so much trouble on my account. I was glad that I had him on my side.

  For the next few days, that’s where I remained. My devoted man waited on me hand and foot as I began to regain my strength. By the end of the week, I was back to moving around the place, conquering small tasks and making myself useful again. Slowly, of course, Roger wouldn’t have it any other way. He did most of the daily tasks as I made my way back to the real world.

  My follow-up appointment did not go off as well as it should have. That was the understatement of the year. Roger went with me, concerned that I would “pussy out” and not confront the doctor with hard and fast questions. He wanted answers as badly as I did, and to tell the truth, I couldn’t blame him. Enough was enough. The silence was killing me, quite literally it seemed.

  We waited for an eternity to be called back. An occasional grumble from Roger reminded me, yet again, just how long we had been waiting for the phantom doctor who had yet to make her appearance. I didn’t blame him; I was as annoyed as he was. The entire system was flawed, I was convinced of that. There was something about a group of so-called medical professionals that virtually ignored what was right in front of their face. In some cases, I dare to think that their inaction had deadly consequences. That led me to another question: why?

  Dr. Garrison went through her usual routine: skimming through my chart, mentioning a few factors and leaving out the rest I was sure, completely dismissing the concerned look on my face as she turned her face back to me. Her fake demeanor suddenly made me want to punch her in the face. The lack of concern for everything I was experiencing had gone from disappointing to infuriating in a matter of seconds.

  “So, the fact that she fell out in front of me in the middle of our apartment, has a huge knot on her head and keeps having the strange sensation in her chest means absolutely nothing? Is that what you are saying, DOCTOR?!” Roger was fuming, and with good reason. The words were a little harsher than I would have chosen, but then again, maybe that’s what it took to get some attention around there. It was definitely how I felt in a nutshell. Leave it to my awesome man to give me a voice where I had none.

  Dr. Garrison looked between Roger and I for several seconds, the odd smile she always wore never leaving her face. It was almost creepy how hollow her stare was. It was as if he were demanding something that she was unauthorized to say, and she was struggling with how to respond.

  That’s when it dawned on me. Nurse Cooper had told me she would get ahold of me, to give me some sort of inside information. Maybe that’s what she meant. For a moment, my mind was preoccupied with that notion. The fact that everyone I had encountered there so far, with the exception of Elaine Cooper, had been as empty and superficial as I was experiencing right at that moment.

  “Mr…” Dr. Garrison looked on; Roger’s name unfamiliar to her as it was only listed under the emergency contacts in my records.

  “Culbertson. Roger Culbertson. Ragan is my girlfriend, my fiancée, if you will. We just want some answers, doctor. I apologize for my outburst, but you have to understand our position. This has been going on for months and not one soul has identified what is wrong or what we can do about it.” Roger was trying another tactic. You caught more flies with honey than with vinegar, that was for sure, and his plan seemed to have an effect on Dr. Garrison that was more positive than not.

  “Mr. Culbertson,” her voice was even, flat, almost monotonous. It was strange how she looked and felt robotic as she addressed the two of us. “Ms. Jensen’s problems have yet to be identified because there are many more tests that need to be performed. It has been our experience that patients do better in the comfort of their own home with frequent follow-up visits to continue conducting these screenings and monitor their progress, we usually prefer to allow those circumstances to transpire.”

  It sounded like a lot of hooie to me, but it was enough to diffuse my nearly explosive and over-protective man. Dr. Garrison did a typical exam, listening to my chest, checking a few of my reflexes and looked into my eyes with an instrument I assumed would allow her to see behind my iris and into the functional part of them. Definitely arbitrary, considering those things had nothing to do with my ailments, but at least she was doing…something.

  Roger stood by, his foot tapping impatiently on the tile floor as Dr. Garrison glanced through my chart again, nodding and making sounds to herself as she reviewed whatever was there. After quite some time, she returned her attention to us, the same smile stretched across her perfect teeth.

  “Ms. Jensen, I am going to order a nuclear stress test. They will give you a shot of something to artificially elevate your heartrate as they simultaneously do a scan similar to the echocardiogram you had. These tests are better at detecting things during the heart at a time when it is most stressed out. The nurse will make you an appointment on your way out. I am confident that will reveal something.” Finally, I was getting somewhere.

  “Thank you, Dr. Garrison,” I really was, she had no idea. I don’t know if she had a sudden change of heart, but I was incredibly grateful that I was finally getting somewhere. “You have no idea how much I appreciate you actually listening to me and doing something to try and figure out what’s happening. Blacking out and waking up in the emergency room was not the best experience of my life, and I can definitely do without a repeat.” I followed with a laug
h, hoping that others would join me and leave me feeling less awkward. Roger did not disappoint, of course, he always had my back. Dr. Garrison, on the other hand, returned to robot-mode as she typed her orders into the computer in front of her.

  Roger drove me home again, half-pleased with the outcome of the appointment. The good doctor had ordered another, more-detailed test that would have a better chance on shedding some light on whatever was happening inside me. I knew it was because he cared, he was as sick of having no answers than me, and to be honest, he was much better at letting his thoughts be known. I had more of a softer approach, which until that afternoon, had not had any success in cracking through the defenses at Kellogg Premier.

  “I told that bitch, didn’t I, babe?” Roger boasted out loud as we settled in at our apartment. I wanted to laugh at his statement and tell him he was wrong, but I knew that would just burst his bubble of confidence and I couldn’t have that.