Maps || l.h. au

08 // May 14, 2012

 

 

 

   When he opened his eyes, everything was so bright that he had to blink a few times to adjust the light coming through his retina. When everything seemed coherent enough, he could see that the ceiling was white. And the walls were also white. And all he could hear was the constant beeping of a heart monitor. Why was he at the hospital?

   “Good gracious,” the nurse suddenly said beside him, surprising him. She was an elderly woman, with the looks of a good-natured grandmother who gave you cookies once you got to her house. “You’re finally awake. I’ll tell the doctor about this,” she said. “Just lay down there, OK, son? Don’t move that much.”

   Luke merely nodded his head once which sent a slight tremor down his spine. The nurse smiled at him, looking at his heart monitor before leaving the room. When she was gone, Luke tentatively reached for his head and felt the bandage wrapped around it and little tufts of his blonde hair peeking out.

   Then, he suddenly remembers the accident — the horrible screeching of the oncoming car that hit him and the impact of his skull hitting the asphalt ground. Thankfully, he was still alive but . . . how long was he unconscious? Had Leah responded to his numerous letters? Was she OK? Did his mum know about what happened to him?

   If his mum knew what happened, he wouldn’t be able to finish this little road trip and he would have to stay home until he had to Harvard for the fall. And he didn’t want that to happen right now.

   Taking the nurse’s orders not to move, Luke stayed on his bed even if he was itching to go to his backpack that was on the empty seat that was meant for visitors. But he was hooked up to an IV and his head hurt to even make the slightest movement. Luke couldn’t do anything but wait for the nurse along with the doctor.

   Minutes later, the nurse came back, holding a clipboard and now along with a bald man in a lab coat with a stethoscope over his shoulders. He looked like one of those typical old men who would go bald due to the genes they’ve inherited.

   “Hello, Mr. Hemmings,” the doctor said and in a nearer view, the small nameplate on the breast pocket of his coat said ‘Dr. Sherwin Huang – Doctor’. “How are you feeling?”

   He doesn’t seem to be Asian to me, Luke thought unnecessarily as he answered, trying not to sound sarcastic, “Peachy keen.”

   “Does your head still hurt?” the doctor continued to ask.

   “It hurts when I move but the pain’s bearable,” Luke replied. “What really happened after the accident? How long was I unconscious?”

   “I do not know what exactly had happened at the spot of your accident, Mr. Hemmings,” he said. “The police can help you with that bit. However, I can supply you with the medical news on your health. You’ve had a concussion after hitting your head on the ground, but luckily it was mild. You’ve also had a few broken ribs but we’ve tapered them all up.

   “The good news is that your vitals are stable, and your ribs are healing quickly. You’ll be good to go within a few more days. Your mother would be delighted to know that you’re finally awake.”

   Luke paled. Of course his mom knew. And he would absolutely, with no doubt, get back home with her on the driver’s seat and him at the passenger’s. He’ll never get to make use of the rest of the small freedom he’s been offered with. All because a goddamned homeless man had to irritate him and pushed Luke to the road with the traffic light still in green.