George Hartmann Box Set

by Kelly Utt

  I step away and punch the air with a fist.

  I wonder to myself how my life devolved to this point. Here I am, standing in a hospital room because my children have been through a traumatic crash and my wife lies in an operating room downstairs fighting for her life. I have wet ejaculate in my pants from a dream which included another woman. And now, I'm yelling at my mom in front of a my kids, blaming her for something she may or may not have done in another lifetime. What has gotten into me?

  4

  Madness

  I’ve spent way too much time talking in terms of anger. Anger issues, anger this, anger that. It’s such a formal word. I’m sick of saying it. I’m mad. I’m pissed off. No, scratch that. I’m fucking pissed off.

  Yesterday, I was passing out. Twice. Today, I'm fucking pissed off. I've got to get out of this building and get some air.

  Without saying a word, I look through the dresser drawers in the boys’ hospital room to see what kind of shoes are here. Time is a blur and I can't keep track of who has been back to the rental house in order to know if someone brought me a change of clothes yet or not. I don't find anything.

  I need to go for a run. I realize that sounds selfish. I think I have to do it. I'm only going to sound more selfish until I get some fresh air and some ground under my feet. I might be too weak to run far, but even a short distance will do.

  "Do you know where my running shoes are?" I say to Roddy.

  Mom and Joe look at me strangely.

  "Leo’s surgery…" Mom begins.

  I raise my hand in the air to stop her.

  "I've already signed the permission forms to give my consent,” I say. "Can you stay with the boys a while longer? Please."

  "Of course," Mom says. "I thought you would want to be here. And the news trucks are still outside. If they're determined to speak with you, they’ll probably have a staff person positioned at every exit."

  "I'll find a way," I say. "I'm telling you, I have to get out of here for a little while."

  Roddy looks at me and shakes his head in a knowing gesture.

  "I'll give you a call the moment I hear something from Dr. Wong," Roddy says.

  "And I'll do the same when we hear from Dr. Adams," Mom says. "We know you're under a lot of pressure right now, dear. Go ahead and do what you need to do."

  I hug and kiss my boys and I take a few minutes to explain what's going to happen at Leo's surgery. Apparently, Mom and Marjorie have already gone over it all with them because they seem to understand. Leo tells me he's going to be a strong boy and make me proud. I know he is. I am proud of him. That's for sure.

  I again notice the bottle of infant formula on the table in the room and it pains me to see. Will is smiling for the moment. And although I'm glad to see him smiling, it hurts to realize how quickly he's moving on after having to stop breastfeeding. I think Ali would feel the same way. It’s happy and sad at the same time.

  I say goodbye to my boys, knowing our extended family is taking good care of them.

  "I'll have my phone with me," I say to the adults in the room as I step out the door. "Call me with any news."

  My muscles twitch as I walk down the hall towards the elevator. They want to move. My body wants to discharge some of the emotion that's been building up over the past few days. I'm wearing the clothes I wore yesterday and they're not good for running, so I decide to call my uncle and see if he can meet me with something more suitable to wear.

  Remembering the news trucks parked outside, I step into a little alcove near a pair of vending machines while I make the call. I can't go down the elevator without a plan of escape. I probably shouldn't go down the elevator at all.

  He picks up on the first ring.

  "Liam?" I ask. "I need you to come get me."

  "Sure thing," my uncle says. "I'm at the rental house right now. I can be back at the hospital in about fifteen minutes. Need me to bring anything?"

  "As a matter of fact, I do. I need to get out for a run."

  I start to say how I know it sounds crazy, but I stop myself. With my uncle, I don't have to explain.

  “Gotcha,” he says. “I'll bring a change of clothes and running shoes. Where should I pick you up?”

  "I'm not sure just yet,” I say. "I'll figure it out and text you shortly."

  "Roger that,” he says and then hangs up the phone.

  Liam doesn't ask if there have been any new developments. I'm pretty sure he left before the news crew showed up. That's one of the best things about my uncle. He is ride or die. I know I can count on him under any circumstances, at any time. I never have to explain myself.

  With those arrangements taken care of, I focus my attention on finding a way out without alerting the news crew. I'm irritated that the hospital can't get them all the way off the property. They're hanging around like buzzards waiting for me, a weakened animal, to step out into the open so they can attack. This hospital is private property. I wish the administration would at least push the buzzards to the edge of it.

  As I work to assess the situation, I realize that I don’t know how many staffers the news crew has in place. Strategizing is doing me some good though. I’m becoming more alert at the prospect of eluding them. I think back to what I remember about the layout of the building. I was preoccupied when I arrived and I haven't done much exploring, so my knowledge is limited. I decide to make a loop on the fourth floor while looking out as many windows as I can before I descend to another level. Maybe I'll run into someone who can help me sneak out the back.

  I don't get very far before I reach a set of double doors. They’re locked and require an employee badge to open. Each door has a small square window at the top, but they’re darkened and I can't see anything through them. I feel an urgency to get out and get moving, so I knock on the doors loudly. A short, African-American nurse with curly braids arrives to open the door. The name on her badge reads Jaz Foster. She looks disturbed by my loud knocking.

  "Can I help you, sir?" she asks, shifting her weight onto one foot.

  “Yes,” I reply. "My wife and my sons are patients here and there is a news crew looking for me. I need to get out and meet my uncle for a run to maintain my sanity and I need to find a way out of this building that doesn't land my face on the evening news. Can you help me?"

  Jaz looks at me hard as if she's deciding how credible I am.

  "What do you want me to do? Hide you in a cart of linens and push you out the back door?"

  "That would be great, actually,” I reply. "Is that a possibility?"

  She continues to look at me hard without answering right away. I know I’m making a strange request. Finally, she acquiesces and motions for me to follow her.

  "I'm going to take you to Miss Tessa,” she announces. "Miss Tessa is in charge of housekeeping for this floor. I'll let you tell her your story. If she believes you and decides she wants to help, she can get you out of the building.”

  "Great!" I say. Take me to Miss Tessa."

  Jaz motions with her head for me to follow her. I do, walking quietly so as not to disturb any patients in the area. I'm not sure what kind of patients are treated in this particular section of the hospital, but I get the idea their condition is more critical than those near the boys’ room. Maybe this area is for something specialized like cardiac care or neurology. I decide not to ask questions.

  Three other female nurses and one male one are huddling around a desk as we turn the corner. They look at me curiously and squint their eyes. Jaz puts her lips out into a pout and waves her hand to let them know not to worry about it.

  We take a turn down another long hall and walk all the way to the end, where we reach a locked door. I assume this is Miss Tessa’s room.

  Jaz knocks hard three times on the door, much like I did on the double doors where I met her just a few minutes ago. No answer. She tries again, this time knocking five times in a row. Still no answer. I'm beginning to get impatient. I've got to get out of this building. Perhaps I shou
ld take my chances on my own. I appreciate Jaz being willing to guide me. But I don't have time to participate in a long search for this Miss Tessa, who may or may not assist once we find her. Jaz sees my impatience even though I'm trying to hide it.

  "Calm down now," she says. "You're the one that asked me for help. Don't you want to get out of the building without being seen?"

  "Yes," I say simply. "But my uncle is picking me up and he's going to be looking for me in just a few minutes. How long do you expect it will take to find Miss Tessa?"

  Jaz smiles and laughs as she looks over my shoulder. She sees someone.

  "Did I hear someone say my name?" a little old lady says from down the hall. If this is Miss Tessa, she isn't what I pictured.

  I'm not sure what I expected, but this lady is hunched over and has some of the whitest hair I've ever seen. It’s white as snow and frames her ultra-pale face like a hood. She shuffles slowly as she walks towards us. She doesn't look like she's fit for a housekeeping position, let alone able to somehow sneak me out of the hospital.

  I walk fast towards her to quicken our meeting, extending my hand to shake hers.

  "Are you Miss Tessa?" I ask.

  "I am," she replies, scrunching her nose as she raises her head high enough to make eye contact with me. "Who's asking?"

  She lowers one eyebrow and squints the eye below it as she looks me up and down, trying to gauge how believable I am.

  “My name is George," I say. "Jaz here heard my story and said you might be able to help me."

  "What kind of help do you need?" Miss Tessa asks.

  I can tell she’s skeptical.

  "Maybe you’ve heard about my family,” I begin. "My wife, little boys, and mother-in-law were missing for a couple of days after someone ran them off the road and their van tumbled into a ravine. Then my little boys and mother-in-law were found, but my wife remained missing and was presumed dead. There were teams of volunteers out searching all day yesterday."

  "Oh,” she says, her demeanor softening. "I did hear about that. I'm really sorry about your wife."

  "Thank you," I say. "They found her and she's in surgery right now. We don't know how things are going to turn out."

  Miss Tessa take me by the hand as if we know each other and leads me back down the hallway to her door. Then she takes a set of keys out of her pocket and unlocks the door. She invites me into what turns out to be a small space with a desk and a handful of chairs situated around the room.

  "Come and sit with me, George," she says.

  When I look back at her, Jaz tips her head high and smiles. Now I see why she wanted me to find Miss Tessa. Jazz seems pleased to have made the connection. She waves then closes the door and leaves us.

  "What can I do to help you?" Miss Tessa asks as she peers deeply into my eyes. Now she seems grandmotherly. I'm reminded of my own grandma. It's been a long time since I've had a grandma in my life. I take a deep breath let it out slowly.

  "I want to leave the hospital for a little while," I say "I just need some fresh air. It feels like I've been here so long. And I'm so worried about my wife. The surgery has gone on longer than they expected and I don't know what that means. I'm afraid it's not good."

  She again takes my hand in one of hers, then places her other hand on top to pat mine gently as we talk. Or, more accurately, as she listens and I talk.

  "As if that wasn't bad enough," I say. "They told me in the middle of the night that my wife is pregnant."

  "Congratulations," Miss Tessa says softly.

  "Thank you," I reply. "You're the first to congratulate us."

  She tilts her head to one side, apparently wondering why.

  "My family is the best," I explain. "Don't get me wrong. They didn't congratulate me yet because they're being cautious. My wife’s surgeon, well, he called my baby a fetus instead of a baby... I guess that's beside the point. He says babies don't usually make it under these conditions."

  Miss Tessa shakes her head up and down sympathetically and pats my hand some more. She's good at letting people talk. It reminds me of how Dr. Epstein was the first time I visited him. There's a lot to be said for being a compassionate listener. People who can lend an ear when needed are angels, right here on Earth.

  “My little boys,” I begin. "Or, I should say, my three oldest little boys all made it through okay, except that my second son, Leo, needs surgery this afternoon to fix fractures in his legs."

  "I'm sorry your son has to go through that," Tessa offers.

  "Thank you," I say. "You're very kind."

  Finally, she releases my hand and leans back in her chair. Her pose looks strange because she’s still hunched over even though she's leaning back. I wonder if she's always been hunched over or if she had a specific issue that caused the condition. I wonder if it hurts her.

  "So, you just want to get out of here and meet your uncle for a little while. Do I have that right?"

  “Yes,” I say. "I don't know if you noticed the news trucks outside, but they are here for me. A reporter cornered me by the elevators a little while ago and told me some nasty news about my wife. I don't think I believe her. But I’m not sure yet. it's all too much."

  "You just need a little air," Miss Tessa confirms.

  "Exactly," I reply. "Can you help me?"

  Miss Tessa smiles softly, then leans forward and pats my knee.

  "Sit tight, George," she says.

  I watch as she picks up the receiver from an old-school landline telephone on her desk and punches three numbers. When the line is answered, she says but a few words to the person on the other end.

  "Coming down to twelve and five," she says. “Need transport off the property."

  She hangs up the phone, then turns to me as she stands to leave the room.

  "You wait right here for me,” she instructs. "Don't go anywhere. You understand?"

  "Okay, yes."

  She scoots out and closes the door behind her, leaving me in the room alone. I take out my mobile phone and text Liam to let him know I'm working on getting myself out. I tell him to standby for a pickup location.

  Normally, I’d enjoy a few minutes alone. Except, right now, I don't want to be alone with my thoughts. I want to get out of here and move my body. Luckily, Miss Tessa doesn't take long. When she opens the door again, she's holding a bundle of gray cloth in her hand. She tosses it to me.

  "Put these on," she says. "I've got to get you a hat, too. I'll be right back. Be changed when I return."

  I'm a little bewildered by this, but I nod my agreement. What she’s handed me looks like some type of uniform. I guess she's going to try to make it look like I’m an employee exiting through a service entrance. Good idea. It makes much more sense than hiding me in a linen cart. Hopefully, all of this turns out okay and I’ll be able to look back at these antics and laugh. If my life weren't falling apart, I'd laugh right now. This is funny.

  I follow instructions and change into the gray uniform. Upon closer inspection, it looks like it's a uniform for a maintenance staff member. I suppose it could be housekeeping, but it's different than the blue uniform Miss Tessa is wearing. The short sleeve, button-down shirt has space for a name to be embroidered on, but this particular shirt is blank. I guess it’s better that I don't have to answer to a fake name. Given my current state, I'm not sure I could focus enough to keep up such a charade.

  When Miss Tessa opens the door again, I'm ready. She tosses me the hat. I put it on right away.

  "What should I do with my clothes?" I ask.

  "Give them to me," Miss Tessa says as she takes the stack of folded clothing out of my hands, then opens a file cabinet drawer and places it inside.

  "Are you going to keep them? I ask.

  "Only until you come back to get them," she says. "I'll be here until seven tonight and then I'll be back at seven in the morning. Seven to seven. When you're ready to have your clothes back, you come find me and I'll have them for you. Maybe we can have another talk."

/>   "That's very kind of you," I say. "Truly. Very kind."

  "Do you have a grandmother living?" she asks.

  "No, I don't. My dad's biological mom and the mom who raised him both passed away before I was born. My mom's mom was a great grandma to me. She's been gone for about fifteen years now. I miss her."

  "You remind me of my grandson," Miss Tessa says. "He lives in Florida. He has a wife and four little boys. He's tall like you and he has dark hair. If he ever needed help as you do now, I hope someone would be there to take care of him."

  We smile at each other for a moment, appreciating the connection. But Miss Tessa doesn't hesitate long.

  "Time to get moving," she says. "You'll follow me downstairs to the service room where the big washers and dryers are located. If anyone asks, you're a new employee and I'm showing you around. When we get down there, my friend Girard will take you with him. He's in the maintenance department and he'll be able to walk you out the service entrance. He'll drive you wherever it is you need to go so you can meet your uncle. And if you need to be picked up later, well, Girard will do that, too. He works seven to seven, the same as me. Now, let's get going."

  I feel my pulse quicken. A rush of adrenaline courses through my body as I follow Miss Tessa down the hallway. We pass the same nurses’ station where those on duty gave me strange looks a short time ago. This time, there are only two nurses at the station. The male nurse who is there doesn't look up from his computer screen at all. The female nurse moves her eyeballs to watch us pass, but doesn't move any other muscles in her face. My disguise can't be that good. They must be used to seeing Miss Tessa do things like this. It probably doesn't seem out of the ordinary.