I Fell in Love with Hope - Lancali

“Is she okay?” he asks. “I know you were with her yesterday.”
Yesterday, I got on my knees the way Neo would have if he were
submerged in Sony’s blue. I held Sony once the doctor left. She
didn’t cry, but she needed to be held. She needed to not be alone.
Eric came in at the end of his shift and took her for ice cream. She
accidentally let it slip that there was a cat in her room. It had bladder
control problems. Eric pinched the bridge of his nose and told her
that if she cleaned after it, he would just pretend it didn’t exist. He
bought her a litter box and a food and water bowl. Later, when Sony
had little strength left, he took her back to her room and spoke to her
for hours, telling her about all the kids she hasn’t been able to play
tag with lately.
The mask didn’t hide her smiles. The ventilator was nowhere near as
loud as her snorty laughs and teasing. When she fell asleep, Eric ran
his hands through his hair. He cried. Silently. So that he wouldn’t
wake her. His sobs were all breath. He covered his mouth till the
dread he couldn’t carry left his body in tears. Then, he wiped his
face, stood, and checked every vital sign, screen, and machine
connected to Sony. Before he left, he kissed her forehead and
whispered something I couldn’t hear.
It’s unfair. That those you take care of usually end up being the ones
you care about. I should know. It’s what Eric and I have in common.
We aren’t supposed to love them. Narrators and nurses mustn’t get
attached. We are tied to this place, and they are tied to a pendulum
swinging to either side of the ledge.
“Don’t tell me, actually,” Neo says, wiping his nose. “It’s better if I
don’t know.” He scatters his papers above the sheets, recreating his
sea so that there’s
noise to fill the quiet. “Why are you still standing there? Go see
Hikari or something.”
When he says her name, my eyes don’t wander. They unfocus. All
my senses rush to my hands, the ones that mirror hers. I reach into