For ENGL 201 - Fiction
“Waiting”
It was 3:27 in the morning, and much of the world slumbered. However, in a small town in Iowa, movement still occurred at this hour. It was at the General Hospital. The waiting room was empty save for four people: A thin young man, around 30 years old and his eight-year-old daughter, and across the room a teenage boy, probably around 17, and his mother who looked to be around 45 (though with makeup these days, one could not be truly sure). The dark-haired young man was seated next to his daughter. His back was away from the chair, and he had been tapping his foot nervously on the green and white-checkered floor for the past hour and a half, but a dazed sort of smile was stretched upon his face. Every thought in his head was in some way down the hall in front of him; he wondered how much longer this could possibly take. Since rushing to the hospital at 6:00 this evening (well, technically yesterday, and getting rear-ended despite his speed by a 1990 Mercury), all he’d really been able to do was wait. The young man’s daughter bounced happily in her seat, as if she was thoroughly enjoying being stuck in the rear with a tack. Her auburn curls echoed her body’s movement, and her eyes shone. Every minutes or so, she would whisper excitedly, “Baby brother, baby brother!” and her smile could not naturally have gotten any wider. These two souls’ auras put together were burgeoning with happiness and joy.
If someone were viewing the two pairs separately, that person would swear they were not in the same room. The middle-aged woman owned clasping hands on her wrists, only breaking them apart to place her face in the bowl formed by her palms. She looked utterly exhausted, as if she had been waiting in the same chair for hours (which she had; she’d gotten the call from the hospital at around 6:30 the previous day). Her pale blonde hair hung limp around her face, and when her face showed one could see dark circles underneath her murky hazel eyes. Her son appeared both lost in thought and completely unthinking. He’d had to take the phone away from his mother and drive her here, even though he positively loathed hospitals. At the moment the boy wasn’t looking at any one particular object or person, although a small crack in the wall happened to be in his line of sight. Despite slouching slightly in the chair beside his mother, the top of his head was a few inches above hers. He looked briefly at the crumbling woman beside him, wishing he could do more than simply wait beside her. He was just as worried as she was, and considered her into his worries, even though it seemed that she was only absorbed in her own thoughts. The air around these two rained with sadness and despair.
Two nurses entered the waiting room. One spoke. Both adults looked up, one excited, the other hopeful. Both children looked up as well, one not fully understanding, the other merely waiting for an answer.
“Will Mr. Shimble please follow me?” asked the short blonde nurse.
She had a clipboard in her hand and a soft smile on her face. Clearly there was some good news to be shared. The young man jumped up, nearly knocking his daughter to the floor. In a breathy voice he introduced himself as Eliot, loosely holding his right hand out for the nurse to shake. The young girl took her father’s left hand and shook it, grinning up at him all the while.
“Nadine, calm down! We’re going now, okay?” Eliot said with a smile. He squeezed his little girl’s hand, and walked down the right-hand corridor with the nurse towards the maternity ward.
The woman with her son seemed to collapse within herself. She began to weep quietly, but was not quite at her breaking point. However, these silent tears caused her son to finally break out of his trance; he placed an arm on her shoulder and kissed her forehead gently. The teen whispered something in his mother’s ear, and she nodded, leaning into her son’s embrace.
“Mrs. O’Limke, can you come with me, please?” the other nurse said softly.
The boy stood slowly, but his mother didn’t move. Leaving his hand on her shoulder but shaking it slightly, he said, “Come on, we have to follow the nurse.” She gently stood, her back straight despite her anxiety. As they walked behind the nurse down the right side hallway, a singular tumult came from the corridor Mr. Shimble and his daughter had just walked down. Though Mrs. O’Limke and her son did not know it, the new father had just seen his tiny son for the first time. They looked in the direction of the other hall, but continued on down their corridor.
Meanwhile, down that very hall from where sound had just erupted, Eliot and Nadine Shimble were both sitting on a bed, sharing it with a brand-new mother and her tiny baby boy. The newborn’s older sister had been told not to try and touch him, but she could not resist gently stroking the knit cap-encased little head. She looked at her parents, waiting for any sort of reprimand, but they just smiled down at her and the baby. Eliot whispered, “Thank you, Marie,” and kissed his wife softly but deeply. The blonde nurse who had led them to this hall was able to witness this little affectionate moment, but after a few minutes of watching the newly expanded family had to duck out; other patients were waiting for her.
Her colleague who had accompanied Mrs. Catherine O’Limke and her son opened a door in the silent hallway they’d come down.
“Caleb, I’m scared,” Catherine said, just low enough for only her son to hear.
“I know Mom, so am I.”
The trio entered Room 28H and quietly walked to the barred bed. An older gentleman, around 50 years old or so, lay there breathing laboriously. Bandages wrapped his left shoulder and abdomen, and his right arm was encased in plaster, just past his elbow. His eyes were closed, and a tuft of his white hair fluttered slightly with each shaky breath. Ever the devoted wife, Catherine sat gently on the edge of the bed and even more gently stroked the side of her husband’s face. Caleb looked on, hands in his pockets and a small amount of fear in his eyes. The nurse spoke one last time, and the expectant family watched her carefully.
“He’s going to survive, but it’s a miracle that he will. That crash nearly killed him; he has some serious contusions in addition to the broken bones you see here, but someone must have been watching out for him. I hope his car was as lucky as he is, Mercury doesn’t make them like that anymore.” said the nurse, and she left the room. The mother and son put their arms around one another and squeezed just a little, glad that though the beloved husband and father was in terrible pain, he would make it. Now all they had to do was wait until Sean could be released from the hospital. They both agreed that waiting for release papers to be signed would be a much easier kind of waiting.