Soul

by Dave Blackwell

  “What the hell?” Marie got to her feet. “You are crazy!?” She looked at Kimimela. “What is wrong with her?”

  Sophie moved, her arm reaching up to the ventilator tubes that ran from her mouth, she choked and struggled to breathe. The ventilator alarmed and lit up with red warning signs, the mechanical hissing ceased.

  Marie looked at her and then ran over to the side of the bed, grabbing Sophie’s hand and looking into her eyes.

  “I am here Sophie.” Marie reached up for the red emergency button above the bed and hit it, a red light above the door came on and a continuous alarm sounded. Marie looked behind her to find Jackson and Kimimela had left, the door wide open. “Hold on Sophie, the doctors are coming.”

  Tina ran through the door, looking at the monitors and then at Sophie.

  “I need you to wait outside Marie.” She demanded. “I need some room.” She took a torch from her pocket and shone it into Sophie's eyes. A male nurse ran into the room with a sealed resuscitation trolley. He was tall and heavily built with a trimmed beard. Marie could feel his footsteps vibrate the floor when he ran in heavily.

  “What’s happening to her?” Marie demanded. “Is something wrong?”

  “She is waking up.” Tina said loudly. “We need to remove the circuits, so please wait outside. I promise I will come and update you as soon as I have made her comfortable.” Tina returned her attention to Sophie, stroking her head as she checked the monitors.

  Marie stepped backward and left the room, she leaned up against the wall in the corridor, her hand over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes and her heart thumping in her chest.

  Bill turned the corner, carrying two coffee mugs, walking slowly and watching he didn’t spill them. He looked up and saw Marie, looking around he placed the mugs on a window ledge and made his way to Marie. Stopping by the door he glanced in at the staff working on Sophie, and then looked at Marie, a smile breaking on his face.

  “She is awake?” He asked Marie who looked at him, unable to speak and nodding. He grabbed her and hugged her, rubbing her arm as he broke away. “That is a good thing.”

  “I know.” Marie wanted to tell him what happened, but she remembered Jackson's words.

  “Was you there when she woke?” Bill asked, glancing back into the room.

  Sophie looked towards the door, the tubes removed and Tina placing an oxygen cannula under her nose, Bill smiled and gently waved. Sofie awkwardly smiled and waved back, attempting to sign.

  “Marie, Sophie is signing.” Bill took hold of Marie’s arm as she wiped her face and pulled her towards the door, she looked in and gasped.

  “Hi.” She signed to Sophie. “You scared me.” She said.

  “Sorry.” Sophie struggled to sign.

  “Kimimela.” She said.

  “I know.” Marie said. “I know.”

  Jackson walked to the edge of the corridor and through a stairwell before Tina had turned the corner, he waited a few seconds before descending. Looking back as he caught a glimpse of Marie.

  “Kimimela?” He said in worry. “Wake up.”

  Kimimela groaned.

  “I know what to do.” He said.

  Jackson descended a few flights before arriving at the Cancer Ward. ‘Blue Morph Cancer Services Team’ was sign posted above the doors, with blue butterfly stencils all over the door. Jackson opened the door and walked in, slowly approaching the nurses’ station.

  Sandra stood up and smiled when Jackson approached, Sandra was an athletic built Cancer Specialist who had moved to England from Jamaica when she was in her teens. She had long dreadlocked hair down to her shoulders, which was tied up in a ponytail at the back, she had yellow glasses with a pink band on them that hung around her neck. She was wearing dark red scrubs which were damn down the front.

  “Jackson.” She said with a smile. “Great to see you.”

  “Sandra. It is good to see you, only I wish it was under better circumstances.” Jackson panted. “It has been one of those days.”

  “Is that Kimimela?” Sandra leaned forward. “Is she ok?”

  “She is fine.” Jackson looked down the corridor and then back to Sandra. “Is Mary still with us?” He asked.

  “Yes, but she is not doing so great, it could be days or even hours.” Sandra said. “Are you here to see her for the last time?”

  “Yes.” Jackson sighed. “It is her time.”

  “Ok.” Sandra said, sadness in her voice. “Thank you.”

  Jackson nodded and walked down the corridor, stopping by a door and gently knocking. After a minute he walked in, closing the door behind him.

  Jackson laid Kimimela in the armchair, carefully supporting her head as he rested it against a pillow. He sighed as he looked around the room as he removed his overcoat, hanging it on a hook on the back of the door.

  The room was small and bland, a hospital bed at the centre of the room against the wall. A small pine cupboard next to the bed with various drinks and snacks, above the bed were a couple of cards and patient notes. In the corner next to the cupboard was a single pine wardrobe with a mirror on the front. The armchair where Kimimela laid in was sat next to the wardrobe, a grey throw was draped over it. At the opposite side of the room was the door leading to the hall, and a door leading to the washroom.

  Mary lay in the bend, her breathing shallow and strained. She wore a knitted beanie hat which covered her hairless head. Her face was pale and wet from perspiration. She wore a dark pink t-shirt which was damp, a hospital blanket was pulled up to her torso.

  “Oh Mary.” Jackson said softly.

  “What is wrong with you?” Mary muttered, opening her eyes.

  “I am sorry.” He apologised. “Did I wake you?”

  Mary gently laughed.

  “You walk around like a bigfoot.” She said bluntly. “Of course not.” She chuckled.

  She glanced at Kimimela sitting in the chair.

  “Is it time?” She asked.

  Jackson nodded as the sadness hit him.

  “Hey.” Mary could see his sadness. “We talked about this.”

  “I know.” He sighed. “It doesn’t make it any easier.”

  Mary shuffled in the bed, groaning and then coughing.

  “I have had a good life.” She smiled. “I want to return the gift you gave me.”

  Jackson forced a smile.

  “You saved my life Jackson.” Mary held out her hand for Jackson who walked over to the bed and sat down next to her, holding onto her hand as a tear ran from his face.

  “Is that a tear?” Mary teased him. “I thought you were tough!” She laughed.

  Jackson wiped the tear away.

  “I am sorry.” Jackson apologised.

  “Don’t be.” Mary said.

  Kimimela opened her eyes and sat forward, struggling.

  “Is this the girl you told me about?” Mary smiled at Kimimela who smiled back, breathing heavily.

  “Yes.” Jackson said.

  “The poor girl looks like she is in pain.” Mary looked at Kimimela in concern.

  “She just saved someone very dear to her.” Jackson said. “She is in pain.”

  “Then let’s do this.” Mary said. “Come here.” She indicated Kimimela to sit next to her.

  Jackson stood up and helped Kimimela up, sitting her next to Mary.

  “Hi Kimimela.” Mary smiled. “I am a friend of Catherine’s.” She coughed. “Knew her for many years.” She smiled. “Had to put up with that lump too.” She whispered, pointing to Jackson who shook his head.

  Kimimela laughed softly.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” Kimimela said, tears in her eyes.

  “You are not hurting me.” Mary said, you are helping me. “I have lived a long time and this cancer is slowly eating away at my stubborn body.” She sighed. “I want to sleep.”

  “It is ok Kimimela.” Jackson said. “She wants this.”

  “I can’t.” Kimimela struggled to keep her eyes open.

&n
bsp; “Please.” Mary held out her hand. “I cannot go on like this.”

  Kimimela looked at Jackson who nodded. A tear ran down her face as she reached out and gently took hold of Mary’s hand. Mary pulled her top down slightly and Kimimela put her hand on her chest.

  Mary gasped and shuddered.

  Kimimela closed her eyes, groaned and growled softly.

  Jackson turned around, his back to them and put his head against the wall, closing his eyes and covering his ears.

  Sandra sat at the nurses’ station, holding a bottle of water. She looked up at the room when she heard the loud groans.

  “Goodbye Mary.” She said softly, wiping the tears that ran down from her face. “Rest now.”

  The pained scream echoed down the corridor and within a few seconds, all was quiet.

  Mary stood up, looking down the corridor for movement. She could hear someone in the nearest room. After a few seconds the door opened.

  Mac stepped out from the room, a man in his thirties, tall and skinny. His hair shaved off and a rough beard with white patches that needed a trim. He wore a blue dressing gown which hung off his bony body, it was open, and he wore only black boxers. He looked at Sandra.

  “What was that?” He said, fear in his voice. “Who screamed?”

  “Cover yourself up please Mac, I have told you before.” She said. “Seen it all before too!” She joked.

  Mac closed the dressing gown and tied the strap around his waist as he walked to the desk.

  “Did someone scream or are the drugs playing with me?” His voice was croaky and dry.

  “Mary.” Sandra said. “She has refused any pain relief. She is having a bad night.”

  “Jesus!” Mack looked towards Mary’s room. “Shall I go check on her?”

  “No. You need to go back to bed.” Sandra said. “Mary doesn’t want anyone in her room.”

  “I hope she passes in her sleep.” Mac said. “Such a lovely lady and she doesn’t deserve this.” His voice wavered. “She loaned me a book.”

  “Have you read it yet?” Sandra asked.

  “No not started it.” Mac said. “Feel shit all the time.”

  “Do you want something to help you sleep?” Sandra asked. “I can sort that out.”

  Mac nodded.

  “Ok go to bed.” Sandra smiled. “Once I have checked on Mary, I will pop in and attend to you.”

  Mac nodded and walked back to his door, pausing as he looked down the hall and then walked into his room, gently closing the door behind him.

  Sandra sighed nervously and picked up a clipboard and made her way towards Mary’s room, arriving at the door she was just about to knock when Jackson opened the door, his eyes wet from crying.

  Sandra rubbed his arm, and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

  SEVEN

  Kimimela looked out of her bedroom window as Marie walked down the drive towards the house. At one point she looked up and Kimimela moved away from the window, hiding to the side. With her back against the wall, she slid down and brought her knees to her chest, her arms wrapped around them. With her hair tied back into a ponytail, she wore a blue sweatshirt and black leggings. White socks with dirty soles.

  “Why are you so nervous?” She said to herself. “You have done this so many times before.” She groaned. “Wish you were here Catherine.” She rested her head against her knees and closed her eyes.

  The door opened and Jon walked in, he was wearing black boots, black jeans, a blue jumper and a leather jacket.

  “I will be down in a minute.” Kimimela said, not looking up. “I just need a minute.”

  “You are coming with me.” Jon said, holding up a revolver at Kimimela who looked up and gasped. “Make any noise, and I will hurt you.” He snarled.

  Kimimela stood up slowly, the fear in her growing.

  “Where is she?” He demanded.

  “Who?” Kimimela said.

  “The woman.” Jon sniffed, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

  “Elizabeth is not here.” Kimimela said looking around for somewhere to run. “It is only me, Jackson and his friend.”

  “No.” Jon groaned. “Not her. The old one.”

  “I don’t know.” Kimimela said. “She is missing.”

  “You are lying.” Jon stepped forward. Kimimela was backed against the wall, breathing heavily. “Where is she?”

  “Jackson will know. He is in the kitchen.” Kimimela said softly. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “Take me there, and no tricks.” He warned her. “Or I’ll kill everyone.” He growled.

  “I know you.” Kimimela suddenly realised. “You were at the hospital.”

  “What?” Jon said. “What are you talking about?”

  “I ran into you. You were really mean.” Kimimela said.

  “That was you?” Jon remembered. “You little shit.”

  Kimimela didn’t say anything.

  “Come on, get downstairs and keep quiet. Remember I have a gun on your head.” Jon said. “If I pull the trigger your face goes.”

  Kimimela nodded and slowly walked to the door, opening it and stepping out. Jon followed her, aiming the gun at her head.

  Marie stood at the door to Catherine’s house, deciding on whether to knock. She had arrived minutes before after sitting in the car for over an hour, thinking about what to do or say.

  Two days had passed since the events at the hospital, Sophie recovered from her brain injury and there were no long-term effects. Her doctor put it down to the fact that the scanners may have been faulty, and the damage was not as extensive as they had thought. Other than the broken bones and cuts, Sophie was on the mend.

  Earlier that day, Marie had called Jackson and asked if they could talk about what happened. He asked her to visit later in the day, and everything would be explained.

  “You cannot stand outside here all-day Marie.” She whispered to herself. “Just knock on the door.”

  Marie groaned and turned away, stopping at the edge of the step. She didn’t notice when the door slowly opened, and Jackson stood in the doorway.

  “Are you going to come in?” He said with a smile. “You have been standing outside for some time. You must be cold?”

  Marie turned around and smiled awkwardly.

  “Sorry. I am a little freaked out by this whole thing.” Marie said. “And to be honest I am scared.”

  “I understand.” Jackson fully opened the door. “I promise that nothing will happen to you. You are safe here.”

  Marie nodded and stepped into the hall, looking at the floor where the blood had been.

  “They managed to clean everything up.” Marie said.

  “Not quite no.” Jackson laughed. “Elizabeth managed to get it clean.”

  “Is she here?” Marie asked.

  “No, she is volunteering at the Cancer ward today.” Jackson said.

  “At the Blue Morph?” Marie asked.

  “Yes. Catherine donates a large sum on a regular basis.” Jackson said. “Let’s go into the kitchen.”

  Marie followed Jackson into the kitchen, removing her coat and placing it over the back of the chair. Straightening her grey shirt, she sat down.

  Jackson approached a large silver kettle and switched it on.

  “Would you like a drink?” He asked. “We have a large selection of teas and coffees.”

  “An expresso would be great.” Marie said smiling.

  “I hear you were in court today.” He said getting two small mugs from the cupboard above the kettle. “Was it successful.”

  “Yes. It was for a previous case of mine where a man was beating his wife and sexually abusing his daughter.” Marie sighed. “He pleaded guilty.”

  “That is good to hear.” Jackson turned and faced her. “However not so good for the poor mother and daughter.”

  “No. The case has been going on for quite some time. The guy is an expert at manipulating people. And recently the mother and daughter have retracted
their complaints.” Marie said.

  “Why did they do that?” Jackson asked.

  “I am so sure he has threatened them.” Marie said. “But it all changed today.”

  “How so?” He asked and turned, taking a jar of coffee from the cupboard.

  “We don’t know, but he was pretty freaked. He brought in evidence against himself, videos of himself beating his wife and a video of him.” Marie paused and groaned. “Raping his daughter.”

  “Men like that do not deserve to live.” Jackson said through gritted teeth. “He will not last in prison.”

  “I agree.” Marie took a deep breath. “I am sorry for lumbering you with this.”

  “Not a problem.” Jackson turned. “I will help in any way possible.”

  “Can I ask a personal question?” Marie asked.

  Jackson put down the coffee and turned, his arms folded across his chest.

  “Of course.” He said.

  “Did you and Elizabeth ever have children?” Marie asked.

  Jackson went quiet, his face dropped.

  “I am sorry I shouldn’t have asked.” Marie realised she had hit a nerve. “Sorry.”

  “No. It is fine.” Jackson said and smiled. “I have not been asked such a question for some time.” He sighed and took a deep breath. “We always wanted children, two at least. We had a daughter, a beautiful little girl. Shortly after Elizabeth became pregnant again. And we were complete. We worked on a farm, in the states.” Jackson sniffed and paused. “I was working the fields one afternoon and heard gunshots. When I got to the house, I found my little girl, dead. Elizabeth was still alive, barely. The doctor managed to save her, but the unborn child was gone.”

  Marie listened on, shocked and speechless.

  “Unfortunately, the damage prevented her from having children.” Jackson said and returned to making the drinks.

  “Oh my god, I am so sorry.” Marie said, her hand over her mouth. “I should never have asked.”

  “No, it is good to talk.” Jackson poured the drinks. “I am glad you asked.”

  “Did they ever find the person responsible?” Marie asked.