White Lion Rising

Chapter 4

He heard the faint buzz from the LED lights that lined the metallic ceiling in his room and the mechanical hum of the medical machines around his ergonomic hospital bed that was inclined forward at a fifteen-degree angle. He felt stronger and more able than the many times he had woken before. He did not know how many weeks had passed since he had first woken to the whispered discussions of the three doctors who were restoring his body surgery by surgery, but he assumed that perhaps two to three months had passed. He opened his eyes and finally, as the doctors had explained to him before his last surgery, he was able to see. But all in the room was a blur and illuminated by the unnatural, cool blue hue of the LED lights. Unable to focus his vision he closed his eyes and then squinted. The thick glass sliding door to his room opened and closed. He could smell the pleasing scent of her perfume.

"Montsy," he addressed her. "I see, but it's all out of focus."

"That's normal," she assured him as she walked toward his bed.

He wanted to finally see her face, but could not make out any of her details as she neared and leaned over his head, opened his right eye with her thumb, and shot a beam of light into his pupil from her medical pen. All that he could see was a white haze around her that he assumed was her laboratory coat.

"Blown pupil," she whispered. "Normal for the type of head trauma you've suffered."

"So, what's next?"

"Another surgery for your eyes to fully restore the iris sphincters."

He let out a deep sigh.

"Soon this will be all over with and you'll be back on your feet and better than new," she assured him.

"Anything else? More shots?"

"Yes, that's right," she answered with a nod as she checked the digital screens by his bed that provided real-time data concerning his vital signs. "Xavi will be coming by today to check on you."

"Good," he replied with excitement.

"You will have a good talk with him. I know that you've been eager to get many of your questions answered, and that we've urged you to be patient. But you must understand that we needed you to be calm throughout this process."

"Yeah ..." he looked down at his chest. "I've followed your rules ... and you've delivered." He looked up to her blurry, oval face. "I've been feeling better, and soon I'll be able to see and make my way around this metal box without the assistance of the staff, trainers, or bots."

"Yes, that's right, Lleó. But when you regain your sight we will have much to explain to you."

"I don't understand why all of this couldn't have been explained to me before. My ears work just fine. I can listen, can't I? But no one wants to talk. Not talking to me–answering my questions–probably stresses me more than telling me what I want to know. You know that, don't you?"

The rhythmic pulse of his heart rate that sounded through the vital signs monitor began to increase.

"Slow down, you're boosting your heart rate and blood pressure," she cautioned him. "Take a deep breath and relax, please."

He inhaled and exhaled.

"Again," she instructed. "Let's bring that rate down."

He took in another deep breath and relaxed.

She reviewed his vital signs on the screen again. "Good, that's right."

"Well, soon anyway ... you guys will tell me what the hell happened. Just relieved that I'll be able to race again–right, Montsy? Right?" he asked her trying to stare into her dark brown eyes.

"Yes, yes, you do not have to worry about that," she assured him. "You'll be able to ride again."

"Good, good ... good," he said relieved feeling his upper body relax and sink into the memory foam mattress of his medical bed.

The sliding glass door opened and closed.

"Lleó, you're looking better," Xavi announced in Catalan as he stepped toward the base of his bed.

"Wish I could say the same about you, but I still can't make out any details. Montsy said that I'll have my sight back to normal after one more surgery in the next day or two."

"Is that so, doc?" Xavi asked in English.

She nodded. "I'll leave the two of you alone. I'll be back after your talk for your shot." She walked toward the sliding door.

"Thanks, Montsy," Lleó said.

"Your welcome," she answered in Japanese.

The sliding door opened and closed. Xavi rolled a medical stool on rollers toward Lleó and took a seat.

"It's good to see you," Xavi greeted in Catalan.

"It's good to see you too," Lleó replied in their native tongue. "Although you're out of focus," he joked.

"Yes, that's why I'm here."

Lleó sensed anxiety in his voice. "What do you mean?"

"You will gain your sight soon, but before that happens I wanted to talk to you because you will find that some people–and things–are different."

"What do you mean?" His brow furrowed.

"We've known each other a long time ... I've known you since what?" He raised his head. "Since you were five? And look at you now. A young man."

"Yeah, we've known each other a long, long time."

"If you could see me now you'd notice that I look different from when you last remembered seeing me."

Lleó squinted his eyes hoping to bring Xavi's face into focus. "How? How different?"

"I'm older than when you last saw me. I've got grey and white hairs now. Still good looking though," he tried to smile.

"What happened to you?"

"It's not something that happened to just me. You will notice that many of those you knew before the accident are older."

"What the hell happened?" he asked with anger.

"You were asleep for a long time, Lleó–"

"What do you mean I was asleep for a long time?" he demanded to know as he sat up in his bed aggravated.

The vital signs monitor sounded his increasing heart rate.

Xavi stood up and placed his hands on Lleó's shoulders. "Relax, Lleó. Relax," he urged. "You don't want a team of doctors running in here and sedating you again."

"Fuck you–Xavi," he swatted Xavi's arms away. "Don't fucking touch me."

"You need to relax."

"What the hell do you expect from me with rubbish like that coming out of your mouth. This isn't funny!" he shouted pointing his finger at him. "If this is one of your damned jokes–I'm telling you now–it's not funny."

"It's not a joke. Believe me, Lleó. It's not–"

"How long then? How fucking long–damn it!"

"Twenty-nine years."

"Twenty-nine? Twenty-nine years?" he said in disbelief. "What? What the hell are you fucking talking about–twenty-nine years?"

The tempo of his heart rate continued increasing.

The glass door slid opened and Montserrat rushed into the medical room with two other doctors directly behind her.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Montsy said as she pushed Xavi aside, grabbed Lleó's right forearm, and injected a sedative into his vein to calm his nerves and accelerating heart rate.

"What ... the," Lleó murmured as the drug made him faint. He collapsed back into his bed; the memory foam mattress conformed to his body allowing him to sink comfortably into it. His head swung from side to side as the blurred images he saw faded. "Twenty, twenty, twenty ..." he whispered until he lost consciousness.