“Where am I?” I had intended to ask the question with a stressed
urgency. Instead, the words had slipped from my mouth in a trite, deflated way.
They
were received in kind; the only reply Dr. Shavers provided was flat, generic.
As if he had answered the same question at least ten times today. “There was a
plague. We stopped it. You are a survivor. One of the few actually. I’m sorry,
extremely sorry.”
The end of the world happened, and I had missed it. Sounded
like something I’d do.
“Do you know if…?”
“Anyone you
know survived?” Dr. Shavers anticipated, “Again, my apologies Mr. Burke but no
one’s checked with us since you’ve been here.”
Drifting
away from Dr. Shavers’ gaze, because for a moment there I was afraid I’d cry. It
didn’t seem right to do so in front of a stranger. In a flurry my thoughts
cycled to those I was close to…had they
survived? Where did they end up? Had any of them suffered? Where had they looked for me? Had they looked for me?
Then my
mind showed its true colors, switching to a frantic gear…
Why hadn’t they come here? Why hadn’t they looked for me? A greasy unease welled up in my belly; tears did the same in
my eyes.
Dr. Shavers
leaned over my bedside, removing his black-rimmed glasses with unnecessary
dramatic flair. “Now Mr. Burke,” his voice suddenly thick with emotion, “that
doesn’t mean you should assume the worst. They could be out there. Due to the
devastation, the sheer confusion, they may not have been able to locate you, or
make a substantial effort to locate you.”
What if they hadn’t searched for me on purpose? Initially, I thought I had posed the question in thought
only, but was surprised when Dr. Shavers answered.
“Preposterous,
Mr.Burke! Why would you think such a thing?” A stunned and bemused look covered
the good doctor’s face.
Within I
searched for a viable answer. That answer eluded me, as I attempted to shine a
bright light into the dark corners of my mind. However, the thought didn’t seem
to be going anywhere, and clung with me for reasons I couldn’t place.
“I don’t
know Doc...”
“Well, I
can’t imagine a set of family or friends that would leave a loved one alone to
recuperate for three weeks, and purposely not reach out to them, or try and
locate them if they had the means. Particularly, with the way things have been
the last month and a half.”
I nodded.
Those I knew were certainly not saints, but they weren’t heartless, turncoats or
cowards. Regardless of the state of the world, if they were capable they
would’ve searched, or sent word, assuming they were able.
“Besides, I
don’t want to be the one to tell you, not only has the old world ended, but
there’s no hope for the new one you’ve woke up to.” Dr. Shavers smiled, and
patted my shoulder.
I returned
his grin, but mostly out of some displaced sense of gratitude.
“Now then,”
Dr. Shavers said, moving towards the room’s only window, parting the blinds,
“I’ve dropped the world on you, and I’m sure you need time to process the small
bit of what I’ve shared. Take some time, sort out what you can, and we shall
talk through it tomorrow morning, when I’m back to check on you. The one thing
you need above all else at this moment, is rest.”
As the
doctor neared the door, I called out. “Shavers?”
His face
scrunched up as he turned to me, “Yes Burke?”
“When you
told me about everything earlier you
apologized, why?”
The newly
added ambient light highlighted genuine misperception on the doctor’s face.
“Pardon?”
“You said
you were ‘sorry, extremely sorry’.”
“The news
was grotesque; catastrophic. I was sorry to have to deliver it to you.”
“Hmm, I’m
guessin’ if I’m here… you helped save me?” The words were awkwardly
staged. It was a strange thing to think
someone might’ve saved me from
anything.
Though he
made no comment regarding my discomfort, Dr. Shavers seemed to notice my
struggle with the words. A look flashed behind his glasses. I read it as
modesty. “Yes.”
Examining
the Doctor again, I couldn’t tell if it was affirmation or a redirected question.
Assuming the former, I offered the only thing that seemed appropriate. “Thank
you.”
Dr. Shavers
nodded, and with a clattering of the door, disappeared from view.
***
Some minutes
passed until I realized Dr. Shavers had left me with two remote controls. One
for the bed that contained a call button, I assumed for a nurse or aide of some
kind. The second was for the small television mounted above me in the corner of
the room.
The TV I
was drawn to immediately. I clicked it on hoping to get some sense of the
devastation via the news. If the damage was as complete as Dr. Shavers had
indicated, would there even be anyone to report it? My question was soon
answered, as I noticed the image of the Emergency Alert System. I assumed it
was localized as it had the address of a nearby food pantry that was dispensing
consumables to survivors. Beneath that the screen informed viewers they could utilize
their smart phones to receive updates as well through sending a text key word
of “Emergency” to a specified string of numbers.
Continuing
to channel surf, I became disappointed that the three remaining stations were
broadcasting much the same message. The only variations; the location and the type
of goods being given out were different on two of the channels.
I
paused; thinking about what the world might now look like, at the same time hoping
it looked more appealing than the washed out surroundings of my hospital room.
Hopping from bed, my curiosity carried me to the blinds that Dr. Shavers
adjusted earlier. I raised them, too eager to think what horrific things I
might see.
The
face of a brick wall greeted me, its stones gray, dull. I looked up, and could just
see a small sliver of sunshine make its way into the narrow alley. Strangely,
it was as if the sunshine stopped just short of warming my face. I was suddenly
chilled and realized that the floor of the room was cold against my bare feet. Moreover,
dizziness overtook me and I clawed towards the bed more desperately than when I
had left it.
Through
staggering providence, I dropped onto the mattress and drew up the covers
completely. My teeth were rattling in my skull. Thinking as quickly as I could,
I tore off the bed sheet and curled myself within it as well. Somehow slumber
took me in this state. Not at all gently, but rather forcefully I was yanked
into sleep, my mind tumbling farther down into the black behind my eyes.
