Chapter 7: Roads

Chapter 7: Roads (Wattpad)

         Friendly girl, Tristan thought as he made his way back to Reeya. He placed the tray on the mattress on her right side and sat on the same stool, pocketing the book. 

“She’s one of a kind nurse, isn’t she?” he said while he reached out to the most wanted bottle of water, “I have a good feeling you’ll get along with her.” He took a swig and instantly felt relief as the col liquid entered his system. He didn’t only felt tired because of reading out loud, this supposedly conversation with Reeya also added some strain to his larynx.

“Let’s talk later, okay? You have to eat.” Right after he said that, he turned to her lunch and took hold of the utensils and started scooping small amounts of rice and broccoli to the spoon. With a steady hand, he brought it near her lips and was about to open his moth to tell her in some manner that she has to open up so she can eat, but surprisingly, Reeya voluntarily opened her lips and ate.

As she pulled back and chewed slowly, Tristan tried to lessen the unexpected burst of surprise, which overpowered his joy. 

“Well then,” he cleared his throat, “best to keep going.”

He had always anticipated that making her eat would be the greater challenge. Nothing is as it seems, apparently, but Tristan didn’t know if that’s a good thing.

At the moment, it’s more positive than not. 

          30 minutes later

          “‘…there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that were it not for…’”

Chapter ten. If truth be told, Tristan was really caught up in reading that he became unaware of the time that flew past him and Reeya.

She finished eating several minutes ago, and as soon as the empty tray of food was collected, he resumed reading to her. The bottle of water helped a lot, of course; now, he was able to read on and on.

“‘She then ran gayly off, rejoicing, as she rambled about, in the hope of being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered as to intend leaving her room…’”

And Tristan didn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all.

If anybody knew what a dark, twisted road they’re going to face as he’s trying to relieve Reeya out of her void of nothingness, things could possibly turn out differently. But the crux of the matter was that nobody foresaw anything, and with that, event after event will take place.

Chapter 6: Mr. Bingley

Chapter 6: Mr. Bingley (Wattpad)

           Part I.

          For the first time ever, Tristan was hesitant to come in a patient’s room. He was leaning on the wall from Reeya’s room, breathing in cheerfulness and exhaling out his anger. Exploding like that was unusual for him, but not impossible. He was just so overcome that he threw caution to the winds and said the words inside his head. He’d never acted like that since he was eighteen.

There was no doubt in his mind that in less than twenty-four hours, the news would spread and there would be rumors to be dealt with.

“That was stupid.” he said under his breath. People are passing by, but they didn’t give any indication that they’d heard the doctor talking to himself. They probably did, but they were busy doing other things than provide him with words of wisdom.

After a deep breath, he pried his back away from the support of the wall and took steps towards the door. As his gaze drifted to his patient, he was, for once, able to give a sigh of relief.

Reeya was fast asleep, but she it was clear that she wanted to curl up against the chill, but the chains hindered her.

Carefully, he twisted the doorknob open and took silent steps towards her after closing the door. He didn’t take the risk of touching and inch of her skin and proceeded to unlock her chains. He started with her right wrist, then right foot. As he was taking care of her left foot, she stirred. She mumbled something he couldn’t catch, then shifted her weight and went back to her undisturbed slumber.

Tristan licked his lips nervously, and then proceeded on his task. Once he was done, he pocketed the chains – he never wanted to see those things in this room again – and thought of what to do.

So far, his mind came up blank.

He felt for the book inside his coat and found it unharmed. Although, he wasn’t really sure about the right adjective to use, as Kate’s copy was obviously old and yellowing and there were some pages that had been completely torn off from the bind. They’ve been inserted – extremely thin and fragile – on their right places according to their page number.

But Tristan didn’t mind. He can still make out the words, and that’s what matters if he was going to read to Reeya…

Who was deeply asleep. Incapable of listening to his storytelling whatsoever. He’d cleared off all his other schedules, assuming that he would be reading out loud for hours, and he hadn’t expected her to be asleep.

  So much for expectation, he thought. He didn’t want to go back to his office – the people would certainly want to interrogate him about the encounter with the manager and he didn’t want to lose his head and have another episode again.

Stand outside Reeya’s door? Under different circumstances, he would. But there were people around, rushing here and there. The last thing in the world he wanted was them to think him a stalker or an idiot.

They would probably think more than that when they found him here, sitting. Just sitting. He was getting ready to move out of the door – questions be damned – when he glanced at Reeya, who suddenly opened her eyes, looking at him with suspicion and at the same time, curiosity.

Tristan almost swore. He tried to ignore the fact that he just jumped out of his skin and tried to calm his racing pulse. Blast it, I should’ve been looking.

He smiled, “Hello, Reeya.” He wasn’t really expecting an answer, so he continued, “Can I sit next to you?”

The conversation – monologue, rather – reminded him of their first meeting. Now, she slowly sat up and glanced confusedly at her ankles. Then she rubbed her wrists.

“Oh, I had them remove the chains just now. They won’t do it again.” He kept his smile intact, while she still gazed at him. She resumed her position of hugging her knees to her chest and staring at the opposite wall. 

Back to square one.

Tristan figured that this is where the book comes in, and he hesitantly brought it out Pride and Prejudice.

“Look, I have a book with me right now. Nurse Stewart let me borrow it. She wants me to read to you.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but Tristan thinks that she probably doesn't need to know the full extent of this little experiment. He carried on, not at all waiting for the non-existent reply.

“I’ll start reading to you everyday from now on, okay?” then quickly added, “Until we finish the story, of course.”

Still no response from her, but it didn’t matter. He came to her slowly, and sat on the stool at the side of the bed, so he was facing Reeya, who was still staring at the blank wall, not breathing a single word.

Tristan opened the book carefully, then cleared his throat when his eyes landed on chapter one. He started reading, “‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife…’”

 On and on, Tristan read. He was actually enjoying the story himself and read both for Reeya’s entertainment and his. She still didn’t bat an eye.

His voice was smooth as honey and gentle enough for her not to resent him, but Tristan knew it would be a matter of time before she would actually give him her attention and somehow respond to his advances.

Time. They definitely have that.

Part II.

In a few minutes, Tristan was already at the fourth chapter. He liked the book, really, and that’s an additional good point of sorts. He didn’t know how the hell he can read something he didn’t like in the first place all the way through.

He found Mr. Bingley funny. He didn’t know why, he just did. And also he found out that he liked Elizabeth very much, maybe because the character shared his mother’s name.

As for Reeya, there had been no changes. Atleast, she’s calm. He could deal with her in her current state than when she’s reliving horrible memories.

“‘Miss Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl, and their brother felt authorized by such commendation to think of her as he chose.’”

Tristan paused after that and cleared his throat. He didn’t even bring a bottle of water, he realized with annoyance. He considered folding the page, but then remembered the bookmark Kate had given him along with the book. From his pocket, he brought out a simple laminated brown paper with a cross.

As he inserted it at the end of chapter four, he smiled slightly. Faith would certainly catch up with you here, even while you’re working.

“So, they already met Mr. Darcy and Bingley.” he said to her conversationally. From a view of an outsider, what he’s doing would seem remarkably funny and stupid, but the others would understand. The people here would understand.

“But I think Mr. Bingley is funny. He’s like my friend, Gab. I think you’ve met Gab befo – ” he bit his tongue as he remembered what the doctor said in the conversation;

“Your assignment, right? Man, I had to use the tranq on her last night, and it wasn’t pretty. She kept screaming murder.”

Tristan cursed his stupidity. And his poor memory.

“Anyway,” he said brightly, covering up his chagrin, “he reminds me of Mr. Bingley. He’s really funny and he says the most outrageous things.” 

He kept up the one-sided conversation and decided to reserve the reading session later on. He really needed some water on his dry throat, but he carried on.

“I don’t like Darcy, though. He insulted Lizzy. I think Elizabeth is a nice character; really playful and I can just see her as a modern woman. Do you think we should read more? I really do. I want to know what happens next, but I need some – ”

A knock sounded at the door and through the window, he saw Nika, one of the new nurses. He’d never really had a conversation with her, they just shared mutually friendly smiles now and then when they chanced each other on the hallways.

“Excuse me a second, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He stood up, and felt relief when he stretched his stiff limbs. As he opened the door, he saw the nurse carrying a tray of food.

“It’s Reeya’s lunchtime, doctor.” she informed him and sent her sweet smile to Reeya’s direction, “Your lunch is here, Reeya.” Then her gaze fell on the book on the stool.

“You’ve been reading to her?” she asked in a hushed, but delighted voice to Tristan, who smiled in return. He said, “Lots of people helped on that idea.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! And you chose a good book, too.” Her doe-eyes are shining with so much happiness that her companion was contaminated with the euphoria immediately.

“I know a handful of people who knows books on a professional basis. I’ll take that.” He took the tray from her and said, “Can I feed her this time?”

“Absolutely,” she said while nodding, “I had to order the broccoli and more chicken, though. She needs meat, even if she doesn’t like it. And I also have a bottle of water here.” She brought it out from her small, white bag and handed it over to him, “It must be tiring to read out loud for quite some time.” She said it with a little laugh.

“You’re amazing.” Tristan replied, as she placed the bottle on the tray along with the plate filled with food. Instead of melting into a pile of puddle as expected by everyone when spoken with those words from Doctor Devon, she just grinned hugely and said, “Girl scout’s honor.”

“Thank you.”

“See you. Bye, Reeya.” she called out gently and closed the door from the outside.

It seems like Kate isn’t the only genuine helping soul of a nurse.

Chapter 5: Nightmarish reminders

Chapter 5: Nightmarish reminders (Wattpad)

        Sunlight fell in rays of different angles in the garden. It was inside a huge dome placed within the facility, and carefully taken care of by the staff. It was one of Tristan’s favorite places in the hospital – tall trees, green, thick bushes, and wildflowers of vibrant colors. It’s a perfect place for recovering patients to visit.

         “Careful, now.” He cautioned Miriam Worthe, one of his patients, as they walked slowly along the worn gravel path. Miriam has a severe case of dementia, and she thinks her dead son is still alive, just away on a long trip. Tristan saw her a month ago, talking to thin air in her own room and he was immediately drawn to help.

          But that was a month ago. She’s remarkably better now; he only saw her talking alone for once or twice in a week, and sometimes not at all. She’d actually begun looking for his company, not her son’s ghost.

          “You look excited, Tristan.” she said in a raspy voice, “You remind me of my boy.” He smiled kindly at the wrinkled lady holding his arm. “It’s just a beautiful day.”

          “Yes. Yes, it is. Joshua would’ve loved walking with us.” 

          “I’m sure he would.” he nodded slightly and stared at the bluebells at his right.

          “Well, you look really distracted.” said Miriam. 

       “You bet I am,” he murmured, “Miriam, had you even wanted having a daughter?” he asked out of nowhere. He was on the verge of desperation; all night, he’d been wide awake, thinking about something that would make some progress with Reeya. Talking to her is like talking to a brick. The question just came out of his mouth before he was even fully aware of it.

          “That’s an odd question. But yes, it would’ve been wonderful, I suppose.”

          “If you had, what things would you do with her?” he asked casually as they continued the route back to the side door of the dome, leading to the main building where the rooms were. Miriam may have dementia, but at rare cases, there are some things that illness can’t take away. Like being a parent. 

 

          “Hmm. Are you having a daughter, Tristan?”

          His eyes went wide. “God, no!” he exclaimed. “I mean, that would be too, err, early for me, I think.” He blinked rapidly and tried to shake away the awkward feeling on his shoulders. He’s young, for goodness sake. He didn’t even date properly, much less thought of having a daughter…

          He shivered.

          “So, this is for a female friend?” Miriam’s voice brought him back to the present and he tried to regain his composure, “Yes, kind of. So, what do you think?”

          “If I had another child…well, I would very much like her to find pleasure in small things, like, let’s say, reading?”

          “Reading?” Tristan asked a bit skeptically. 

          “Yes. Reading does wonders. You do have books, don’t you Tristan? A smart boy like you.” 

          Tristan’s expertise with books only extends to the medical ones, but he’d rather not mention that fact. 

          “So, you’ll have her read stories?” If he tested that little experiment, Reeya will probably throw the book at his face.

          “No, I would read to hear.”

          “Read to her?” he asked again, definitely skeptical this time. He never read out loud since second grade. He was an only child, too, so he doesn’t have any nieces or nephews he could read fairytales to. Mrs. Worthe probably had a young daughter in mind; a child.

          “Silly of you to ask a second time. Of course I would read to her. Children loved to be read to.” 

          They’ve reached the end of the gardens by this point and Tristan managed to thank his patient for giving him a starting tool as they went back inside. 

He thought of books as he walked Miriam back to her room and once he’d made his notes on his clipboard, he closed her door and wondered what on hell he should do.   

Tristan had never thought that literature should be counted as a necessity in his chosen occupation. He doesn’t have an idea, not a single one, on what to read. 

Then came the sudden burst of inspiration.

He brought out his phone, at the same time, walking to his office. She picked up at the second ring.

“Tristan?”

“Who else, Ma?” he chuckled.

“Well, I just thought that I probably wouldn’t live to see the day when my son will be the one to call me.” Even though he knew she couldn’t see him, he rolled his eyes. Elizabeth Devon is usually witty, but Tristan didn’t think he inherited that from her.

She spoke, “I assume you need something.”

“Yes. What do you think I should read to Reeya?”

There was a brief intake of breath and then he heard her disbelieving, yet excited response, “Read? You’re going to read to her? Oh, that’s wonderful!” The comment tugged a genuine smile from Tristan this time and he said, “I don’t think it will work, but it’s worth a try. Can you suggest me some reads?”

That question took half an hour to be answered. Title after title spurred forth from his phone that he couldn’t keep track. But at last, his mother decided on one.

“Now, I know. Pride and Prejudice! Jane Austen’s writing may be old, but just enough so Reeya can understand – ”

“Mom, I’ve been sitting on my desk listening to you for half an hour – ”

“Tristan darling, it’s perfect! Call me when she improves, okay?”

“Yes, Ma. I love you, and thanks.”

“Of course, love.”

He heaved an exasperated sigh and tossed his phone to the desk. Mothers never change, don’t they?

10 minutes later

He found a tattered copy of the said novel from Kate, who was beside herself with his idea. Apparently, she’s a loyal Austen fan and refused to tell Tristan about the story so he and Reeya can know the story together.

“It’s a busy day, so I’ll leave you to it, okay?” They were both on the secure ward now and Kate wished him luck before going out and attended to her own duties. This shouldn’t be hard, Tristan thought. He appeared calm and relaxed as usual when he passed his colleagues on his way to 572.

When he looked through the glass, he swore out loud. He was furious. 

Reeya was still in chains. She was leaning on her decrepit headboard, and it was clear that she’s tired. Really tired. The chains made it hard for her to move around and Tristan could tell her body was getting numb from that same position from yesterday. 

He tucked the book inside the pocket of his coat and strode lividly to the exit. He didn’t bother to sort out his things as he got his items back from Mr. Johnson and stomped to the elevator. 

Thought after thought raced through Tristan’s angered mind as he stepped out to the fifth floor after the ding of the elevator.     

The senior caretaker of Macquarie Hospital is Mrs. Burns. She’s the most formidable woman Tristan had ever met. Maybe it’s due to the fact that she had a huge frame for a female and her stiff attitude, but she managed had always managed to make him uncomfortable.

That piece of information had no place in his mind right now as he knocked on her door loud enough to signal that he wasn’t here for pleasantries.

She opened the door herself and Tristan was greeted by the sight of her bony face and beak-like nose.

“Doctor Devon,” she nodded and waited for what he wanted to say. Which was probably a half-bad move.

“I need the keys to patient 572. Secure ward.” He growled through clenched teeth. He was trying to keep his patience in check, and it was quite a feat.

“Can’t you get in the door? No one told me one of the doors were dysfunctional – ”

“No, damn it! Not the door, her chains!” Tristan exploded. “She didn’t have to be chained; she’s not a goddamned animal!”

“What’s going on?” amidst all the other caretakers walking by, one of the managers of the hospital appeared around the corner. Tristan didn’t recognize him, but it wouldn’t make much different if he did. He was still bubbling up with anger and was clenching his fists to restrain them from punching the nearby wall.

He wasn’t really sure where the sudden, hot anger came from, but for a moment, he remembered the sight of Reeya crying and he just burst. 

He won’t take no for an answer in this matter and he won’t be leaving unless he gets exactly what he wants. Let the manager hear. He didn’t care.

“Good morning, Sir James.” said Mrs. Burns in a calm voice, but he ignored her. The old, gray-haired man faced Tristan instead.

“Doctor Devon? What is the matter?”

“I just needed the keys to Ms. Hamilton’s chains, sir.” He practically spat the word, and Tristan knows that what he did was rude, let alone unwise. It perplexed him to no end, but he was so overcome with mixed emotions that he couldn’t contain himself.

“Tristan, I don’t think it would be a good idea to unchain Ms. Hamilton just now. She’s very violent.” The young doctor barely registered the fact that the manager knew his given name and he was oblivious to the stares sent in their direction, but both of his company clearly well.

“Maybe we could talk inside instead?” Amanda Burns suggested, but Tristan cut her off, “If you don’t mind, we can settle everything here just fine.” Before she could say anything in response, he turned to the manager, Sir James.

“She’s only violent because being chained is what reminds her in the first place. If you’ve been chained to a bed, raped and beaten up by thirteen different men, one after another, all in one day for several months, don’t you think you’d get sick of the thing?”

Shocked, wide-eyed stares followed his vehement declaration; Tristan had spoken louder than he’d intended and his statement was probably heard on both ends of the corridor. Nurses and few caretakers were staring at the three of them and despite his anger, Tristan felt his color rise. 

“Amanda,” James Elliot said in a low voice and she turned her blushing face to him as he said, “Get the keys for Doctor Devon.”

She muttered an inaudible assent and went back to her office, instructing her secretary to do the order.

Tristan was extremely uncomfortable. People were starting to mind their own businesses, but he can’t shake the embarrassment from his shoulders. He knew was case was justifiable, but shouting at the top of his lungs in front of a person capable of firing him was admittedly stupid. He started to say an apology, but Sir James interrupted him with a slight smile and a murmur of “Good day, doctor.”

As he walked away, Tristan gaped after him. He’d been expecting an episode wherein the last words would certainly be, “you’re fired.” 

“Here are your keys.” The secretary emerged from the office door and held up a silver key, attached with numbers 572 in black and white.

“Thank you.” With renewed determination, he got the key from her and walked back to the elevator. He’d better not screw this one up.