The Gift

I tell him how someone or something gave me the ability to help others be able to say goodbye by giving up part of my time left alive to the person in need. I tell him I’ve done it several times now and even had it done to me by Trevor.

Ben doesn’t say anything until I’m done and then says, “You really give up your own life, well parts of it anyways, to random strangers?”

“It’s only up to 24 hours and it’s not random. Something inside of me knows when a person needs the time, and it draws me to them.”

“Knowing what I do of you, it’s your heart,” he says.

I smile and continue. “I didn’t have to give up my time. It’s my choice, but I feel guilty if I don’t do it. It’s too late to get mad at a person for not making known what you should before it’s too late, but I know how I’d feel if I died without telling certain people I love them and not saying goodbye. So, I give up my time so they can. That’s the reason for my saying, ’Until we meet again.’ A nurse named Dee pointed out that it doesn’t mean leaving is final. If I die, I’ll get to say my goodbyes, or even hellos at a later time.”

“Makes sense,” Ben says.

“So, you believe me?” I ask.

“Sure, why not? It’s not any crazier than what I told you.”

“True.”

Ben takes my hand again and that feeling of serenity comes over me. “So why do we feel like this?” I ask holding up our hands.

“Well, I’m only fourteen, so I don’t know the mysteries of the universe, no matter what my parents think, but without sounding too mushy I’d say maybe we are soulmates.”

This surprises me but somewhere deep down it rings true. “Why Benjamin, I do think you’re blushing,” I say. “But you might be right.”

Anna sticks her head in the door and says, “Five-minute warning. It’s nearly lunch time,” and disappears again.

“Help me up,” I say, still holding on to Ben.

“What do I need to do?”

“Just hold on to both hands,” I say taking my right hand from his just long enough to put my left hand in his other hand before returning my right to him.

“Ready,” I ask.

“Sure. I got the easy part I think.”

I pull myself upright, trying to use both arms as much as I could. Taking a couple of breaths once sitting up, I say, “Okay, now the sideways shuffle. Hold my left hand so I can balance. Well, try to balance at least.”

I move my right left a little, then my left, over and over until I have the right one off the bed and realize I’m not sure I have the strength to stop the left from just dropping off. “Get my knee and help me lower my leg so it doesn’t just flop. Don’t do it, just stop it in case it does, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, releasing my left hand and grabbing under my knee. “All set.”

I love my leg towards the edge and slowly get my foot, then my calf, knee, then thigh over the edge, without it just dropping.

“Guess you didn’t need me,” Ben says.

“No, I think maybe I was able to do it because of you.”

He takes my left hand again so he’s holding both now. “I’ll come back when they let me.”

“I’ll have Anna talk to my doc to get the silly restriction removed. I’m better now.” I saw an eyebrow go up behind his glasses. “Okay, well not better, but getting better.”

“I best get going. Don’t want to ruin my welcome,” Ben says.

“Wait,” I say as he lets go of my hands. He pauses and I reach up and remove his sunglasses. “I don’t like these. You have such pretty eyes.”

He looks at me with the icy blue eyes, then cocks his head in that cute way he does. Like a puppy that’s heard his name called. He raises his hands and puts them on my cheeks like he did when he felt my face when we met.

Tipping them up so they were more upright towards my hair, his thumbs move down to find the corners of my lips. “You look even prettier than you feel,” he says, tipping my head up and putting his lips between his thumbs like guides and kisses me.

From behind us we hear, “Hey, what did I say about no hanky-panky? Break it up before I throw ice water on the both of you to break it up.”

Ben moves back and my lips try to follow. “Sorry,” he says softly.

For what?! “I’m not,” I say, slightly breathless.

“I’ll be back later – if I can now,” he tells me taking his glasses back and walks to the door and the waiting Anna.

“Have a good time?” she asks him as they walk away.

Ugh. I’m never going to hear the end of this.

Since I’m sitting up, I stay that way and grab my table and move it in front of me, then grab my phone and text Brittany back. She replies she’ll come down later if they let her and we say goodbyes just as Anna walks back in.

“So, your first?” she asks, and I turn bright red, and I think if it weren’t for the short hair, my ears would cause a hair fire. “Come on, fess up.”

I nod embarrassed.

“Good for you. Sorry about the timing but I had to get him back before lunch, I promised.”

“So, you’re not mad? You’ll let him come back?”

“It’s your lips. Do you want him to come back?” Anna asks.

I nod vigorously.

“I have no problem as long as you keep it PG,” she says.

“Can we get this visitor ban lifted?”

“I’ll call the doc and tell him your progress and you’re up for visits and it should be enough for him. So after lunch you should be able to see whoever you want.”

“Thank you.”

“Want your food now?”

“No, keep it,” I say, and Anna starts to protest. I stop her and say, “I’ll have my mom bring something.”

“You better. I find out she didn’t, and I’ll make you eat your lunch cold. And it’s burritos, so it’ll be all hard and crunchy, and not in a good way.

Yuck. I pick up my phone and text mom to add lunch to my shake when they come back. She replies back that they will be up in five minutes.

I show Anna. “See,” I say.

She nods. “Good girl. Just make sure to eat it too.”

I promise her.

She tells me physical therapy will be back shortly after lunch, but my parents don’t have to leave now that the plumbing is removed and I’m decent.

Anna goes off to tend to her other patients and my parents come back with my lunch, including the shake.

I eat as much as I can after making sure the shake as gone.

We talk more until PT arrives. The same man from yesterday comes in with a box.

Uh oh.

He tells my parents they can stay since I forgot to tell them earlier but asks my mom to move to one side or the other so he can be directly in front of me.

Mom clears the trash from my table after moving her chair and the therapist sets the box on the floor and opens it. Pulling out a tray with a small lip on it, a small bowl, and another small box, he sits them down on my table.

Tray, then bowl on the tray, then box on the tray. “Now, open the box and dump it on the tray,” he says.

I do. “Well, we now know your right hand and arm works. Now let’s work on your left, shall we?”

Oops. The box contained marbles that I dumped into the tray. The lip stopped them from rolling away.

“Now, the easy part,” he says. “Simply pick up a marble and put in into the bowl. Left hand of course.”

I grunt. Easy my a… I try to lift my arm to the table and get it part way up, but I can’t get it all the way. I look back up at the man.

He looks back and says, “Go ahead if you need to.”

I nod and lift my arm to the table. Using my left, I move it around jerky until it’s over a marble and I close my fingers. I feel like one of those claw machines. Big claw with large openings, trying to pick something up. Of course it falls out. I’m starting to get frustrated after failing several times.

The man senses my frustration and says, “It takes time. You’ll get it.

I try several more times before losing it. “Damnit,” I say, picking up a marble and throwing it out the door. I can hear it bouncing off the walls and down the hall.

All the people in the room are looking at me. “Sorry,” I say sheepishly.

Anna walks in holding the marble I threw. “Someone losing their marbles?”

I giggle. “It appears that under normal circumstances Ms. Halloway has problems with fine motor control. However, when frustrated, it seems to go away and her hand and arm work just fine.”

Anna says, “Really? Add pain to that list too.”

I quietly add, “Don’t forget fright.”

The therapist laughs as I realize that I had picked up and thrown the marble with my left hand. “Well, that’s a very good sign,” he says. “She’s recovering quickly, and it shows there should be no permanent damage. Try a few more and aim for the bowl please. We wouldn’t want you hitting people in the hall, right?”

“Right, sorry.”

Anna returns the marble and leaves again.

I concentrate and am able to pick up a few marbles and put them in the bowl.

“Good. Next, the same thing, except using your toes.” He sits the tray down, emptying it the bowl back onto the tray. Removing my left sock, he says, “You must like blue, huh? Hair, nails, toes…”

“Yeah,” I say embarrassed.

He stays on his knees to watch my progress and it goes better than my hand now that I know how to kinda will my body to do what I want it to do. That and I don’t think I could pick up a marble and throw it with my foot.

After getting several in the bowl, the therapist puts my sock back on and picks up everything, returning it to the larger box. He says therapy will go like this tomorrow morning and he’ll bring a walker in the afternoon and we’ll begin working on getting up and down and walking after I’m able to do that.

Saying goodbye, he leaves, and my mom moves back to her original position and sits. We sit and talk and as it gets later, I tell mom and dad to go home and rest. I’m okay and getting better. Since there was nothing they could do but sit around, they might as well go home and be comfortable.

They fuss for a while before finally agreeing to go home.