Letters from the Lost Man, Part 7

"How long was I out?" I ask, the pain in my side giving a polite little reminder that it was still there.

"Twenty-four hours," the nurse answers as she bounces around the room looking busy.

I blink. "You're serious..."

She nods. "Uh-huh."

There's no way I was asleep that long. It just doesn't seem possible. I feel like I closed my eyes minutes ago.

"That's the thing about dreams," the nurse continues. "Especially drug-induced dreams...nothing is as it appears."

"Yeah, tell me about it," I snort. But it's strange that she should say that. It seems that nothing really is as it appears lately...dream or no.

"Are you hungry?" she asks cheerily.

Without even thinking about it, I nod. I'm famished actually. I can't remember the last time I ate. As if it knows we're talking about it, my stomach growls. Not to be outdone, my side aches defiantly.

"Maybe we'll give you something for the pain as dessert," the nurse offers.

"Maybe," I say doubtfully. "Though not the same thing as last time. I'd like to stay conscious for a while."

"Okay," she beams.

"Say, why does my side hurt so bad anyways?"

The nurse sighs. "You mean you forgot again? You were hit by a truck."

I shake my head. "No, that I remember. What I mean is, what's broken or bruised or whatever."

"Oh," she says, glancing at the chart on her clipboard. "Um, a few broken ribs, some bad bruising obviously..."

"That's it?" I ask incredulously. "No road rash or broken limbs?"

The nurse raises her eyebrows at me. "Would you prefer to have more injuries?"

"No..."

"You were very lucky. The truck hit you right before it stopped."

"I see..."

Did you ever have the feeling that somebody was just totally winging it? Just improvising lie after lie to make you believe some story that is fairly plausible anyways. No, you probably haven't. It's a really strange and unlikely situation to be in...very disconcerting. Some things are starting to come back to me now.

Loretta told me to just go with the images. She's the real one, not like this nurse here. And yet, I can't bring myself to go along with her instructions. I just don't remember what all this is about...and I don't think I'm supposed to. You have no idea what it's like not to know what in your life is real and what is a dream. Well, if this is a dream, I'm taking control.

A few minutes after my exceedingly happy "nurse" leaves the room, I find myself hatching a plan. I'm going to get off this trippy little amusement park ride. I sit up in bed... Ouch, that hurts! It's okay. Just ease yourself out of bed. That's right. Now, tiptoe over to the door and peek out.

The coast appears to be clear. Now, slowly step out of the room. Creep down the hallway. Excellent, so far so good. Oh crap, who's that?

"Hi, I need to transfer this patient to the psych wing," some guy in scrubs says to the lady behind the counter up ahead. He has a patient in a wheelchair next to him.

"Name?"

"Vine, Loretta," he replies.

"Okay," the lady says. "Here's the papers. You know the drill."

"Yeah," he answers with a snicker.

Loretta? It has to be a coincidence. It also has to be a coincidence that the woman in the wheelchair looks exactly like the Loretta I remember. Oh hell, they're coming this way.

"Do you need anything, sir?" the guy in scrubs asks.

I shake my head dumbly. Is that really Loretta? "I, uh..." I hear myself begin to speak. "I, uh, think I work with this woman. When did she come in?"

The guy looks at me suspiciously. "I doubt it, sir. She's being transferred in from another hospital. She's been there for years," he explains.

I take a good look at her. Her hair is stringy and greasy. The stare in her eyes is vacant. She's made no indication that she's even aware we've been talking right in front of her. But still...underneath her ragged exterior, I can still see the one person I can really recognize.

"Hmm..." I say. "I guess I'm mistaken."

The guy nods and continues pushing her down the corridor quickly.

Yeah, mistaken my foot. I'd like to follow them, but I'm sure it would arouse some attention, especially since this guy seems to think I'm as crazy as Loretta apparently is. This can't be right at all. I know I saw Loretta in a hospital room as my nurse no more than a week ago. And then again as the new girl at the office. What should I do? Should I forget about seeing her just now and keep making my way toward the exit, or should I stay and try to figure out what's going on?

I turn to look down the hallway at the exit sign. Someone is standing right below it...it's a figure in a dark black robe. Damn it...not this guy again. Well, I'm going to turn the other way. Last time I saw this guy, I got hit by a truck. I'm not playing this game again.

Pivoting on my foot, I step the other way with one last glance over my shoulder. The figure is gone. See? It's all in your imagination. But as I face forward to look where I'm going, I bump right into him...er, it.

"Oh, uh...I'm so...ah, excuse..." I mumble lamely.

The black figure leans back, then shoots forth his fist. The world explodes into little shooting stars. Everything goes dark. Here I am again...

...