C4 antho - Chamber Four

Helping Hands ~227~
* * * *
“I’m here with you at the hospital. You’re going to wake
up soon and I’m going to be here for you.”
Paul sat on a plastic chair next to Betsy’s bed. She had a
private room. The sky outside the window opposite was overcast.
He watched Betsy’s eyes twitch and he thought she
must be dreaming.
He did not know how long comas were supposed to last
and he did not know whether or not it would be best for her
if she stayed wherever she was.
Paul leaned forward with his elbows on his knees,
cupped his hands in front of his mouth, and began to cry.
She’ll need a quadruple amputation, they’d said. Symmetric
peripheral gangrene. Caused by a malarial infection.
Paul did not know the answers to the doctor’s questions
about where Betsy had been or what she had done or what
she had taken. He only knew what she told him. She had
been to Kenya, to Rwanda, to Sudan. She volunteered with
the International Rescue Committee. She had been administering
Polio vaccinations. It was her dream to help stop
Polio.
Paul leaned back in his chair and stared out the window.
He did not want to think of Betsy spending the rest of her life
confined, without arms, without legs.
Paul thought that the gray sky was the same sky over
Africa. He wondered if these clouds were made of waters that
had once been in Africa. It occurred to him that if so, the
journey these waters had made was a long and thankless one.