The Peculiar Patient
Chapter 1 – The Encountering
It seemed to be another regular day at the Lewis Gale Public Hospital; five childbirths and four life saving operations was an average day…. In the sea of drugged patients, nervous families, and stressed doctors, there stood the one man who enjoyed being at the hospital: Earl Pinkford, the thief and imposter. Earl stood around in his stolen scrubs, snatching stethoscopes, bags of blood, and large amounts of crackers, all of which could be sold on the black market. The hospital was the perfect sitting duck; with doctors and nurses scrambling from patient to patient, and with a lack of administrative oversight, it was impossible to keep up with the constant demand for help… they couldn’t care less about having a few replaceable items go missing. Earl made his rounds, making sure to avoid drawing suspicion by only circling twice. He was skilled at the art of stealing, approaching twenty years in what he called work. After being fired from job after job for not meeting his employers’ exceptionally low standards, he resorted to thievery. Early in his career he survived off picking pockets, but realized that he loved every aspect of it; he felt that he wasn’t stealing, but rather redistributing items from the rich to the poor; but though he wanted to be a Robin Hood of some sort, he early on realized that his true nature was that of an imposter: he was a loser, his only talent lying in his skill at subterfuge and deception. He was not one who could be asked to care about anyone. Earl felt that he desperately needed money, more than the people who obtained an abundance of it from working.
As he strolled through the hospital’s busy and chaotic halls, peering through cracks and around corners, he encountered a very peculiar sight. Most of the old men he saw were lying in their bed, sleeping away their long days, but a 70 year-old was sitting straight up watching television with a cold beer placed on the table next to him. What surprised Earl was not that the elderly gentleman was drinking in a hospital, but rather, that he did not appear one bit concerned about his health. Did he have a family member bring it in? Wow, this hospital was slack.
“Hey you!” shouted the raspy old man as Earl passed through his peripheral vision. “Get me another beer will ya, preferably something stronger than this cheap stuff.”
“OK sir, well… I am not allowed to serve alcohol normally in the hospital – orderly’s rules.” He passed through the doorway and rested his heavy hairy hand on the bed frame as he struggled to stay in character.
“Psst. Come here, son,” grunted the old man, gesturing for Earl to walk over. “Take this cash and go over the liquor store next door and buy me the most expensive beer you can find.”
“Hmm, sir? Did you not hear me?” said Earl, and tightened his nurse shoes and looking to see if any other nurse was about. “Well, I can maybe help you out by… ” Earl reached into his scrub pocket and pulled out a steel flask, full of whisky.
“Ay, what is that you have there? Some sort of GameBoy?” said the old man, pondering the silver object Earl was holding.
“It’s a flask sir. It has whiskey,” Earl spoke quietly, making sure no authorized personnel could hear.
“Ahhhh. That’s the stuff. Why didn’t you mention this earlier, could’ve saved me some time. Glad to know the people around here are of some use.”
“Sure my friend.” He passed it to the patient, who greedily tipped it back for ten seconds, blew out a cough of rinsed alcoholic air, and then went into a fit of sneezing.
“Now scram!” yelled the old man still clutching the steel flask tightly in his hand. Earl, too afraid to ask for it back, quickly scurried out of the room. “You can have this back when I’m dead,” he heard the old man wheeze.
A few hours passed, and people started to leave the hospital for the night, and Earl decided to go revisit the peculiar man. As he peeped through the door for a second time, he saw that the man was lying in his bed, still holding the flask in his hand. Earl slowly tiptoed over in attempt to reclaim his precious flask. He carefully lifted the flask up with his thumb and pointer finger. Suddenly the ward was filled with the sound of flailing limbs, ear-piercing yelling, and the clinking of the flask as it rolled around on the ground. The old man scrambled to find his glasses as Earl quickly searched the floor with his hands for the flask. As soon as he touched the ice-cold flask, cooled by the AC, he dashed out of the room to avoid being caught.
Chapter 2 – The Revisit
The next three days were very difficult for his shallow brain. He had attempted, countless times, to divert his thoughts into some other direction, but always ended up back where he started. He spent sleepless nights as he spent much of the time gazing aimlessly at the blank ceiling. But, after taking a walk through the mall, he thought that going back to work would help him.
He searched his closet for some Nike clothes, and threw them on making his way into the Nike Store, in an attempt to steal a few pair of shoes. Due to his sleep deprivation, he was caught off-guard and for the first time in his career, he was asked the question he hoped to never hear. “Do you work here?” Earl’s brain wasn’t able to turn on before the security hauled him out of the Nike Store. After being accused of also stealing the clothes, he was stripped of his shirt and left shirtless. He sat on the park bench as the wind pounded at his skin and for some reason, decided to buy an ice cream.
He sat on a park bench for the remainder of the day, quietly licking his ice. At the bottom of the cone awaited something different. It was not the usual feeling of self-guilt, but rather sudden realization. There was only one solution to his sleep deprivation, lack of awareness, and endless thoughts: to go revisit the old man.
He groggily woke up the next day to the obnoxious beep of his alarm, each time getting exponentially louder in his head. After lying down for a few minutes, he grumpily got up, stepping over piles of dirty clothes to reach his bathroom in the small 600 square foot place he called home. His rare visitors (landlords, electricians, et al., would categorize it as more of a large cluttered box rather than a home. He brushed his few remaining teeth poorly as he brainstormed some ideas for the day’s jobs, until he remembered the epiphany he had had yesterday. He suddenly scrambled to put on some clothes, hopping on a single leg to put on his pants. After tripping on a wire that connected to his cathode ray tube television, the television smacked down screen first, shattering and covering the floor in glass. The noise was inaudible to Earl as he was already out the door and down half a flight of stairs.
Earl, before entering the hospital, looked in the dumpster behind the building. Luckily for him, the scrubs he wore the day before were lying on top. He climbed in the dumpster, grabbed the outfit, and turned it inside out so it looked as good as new. Upon entering the hospital, he immediately veered left to where the old man’s room was; it was empty. The room was neatly organized. He noticed a clipboard was sitting on top of the crisp new sheets. He walked over, gently closing the door behind him with two hands.
Surgery Report
Patient Name: Arthur Abrams
Family: Contact Information Unknown for Patient
Age: 75
Date of Operation: March 24, 2015, 7:00 AM
Duration of Operation: est. 2 hours
Type of Operation: Kidney Failure
Results:
Earl looked at his watch. 9:22. He figured that the old man, Arthur, was in the recovery room waking up from the anesthesia. They would be back any second so he briskly walked out of the room, accidently bringing the clipboard with him.
After walking a couple floors to the waiting room, only then did he realize he was holding the clipboard. Too preoccupied by his thoughts, he had blocked out all his senses and logic. He stared down and realized there was a second half-sheet clipped to the back.
Doctors Notes:
Arthur’s kidney is in poor condition. From observations, the kidney looks to be terminally poisoned. Thorough examination will be conducted during laparoscopy. In the case that kidney is not fixable, he will have approximately 3-4 days left in viable condition before life support.
3 days left to live. Earl shuddered. He flashed back to a few days ago when he had given Arthur a flask of whiskey. That whiskey could have been the death of Arthur; he had practically killed a man. Earl realized that the old man had been on a strict non-alcohol regimen, and was too far into his addiction to survive without it.
He walked back to the room to return the clipboard and his spatial awareness suddenly increased: instead of boring old people he now saw dying people all in desperate need for help. He walked the rest of the way staring at the floor, too afraid to continue looking. As he walked into the room, he stopped short.
“Um, may I help you?” asked the doctor slowly turning around to face Earl. “… we’re sort of in the middle of something.” Earl stumbled to come up with an answer. Even though he had been in similar situations before, he couldn’t clear his mind and think. The daunting concept of death was the only thing that roamed around in his mind.
“Yes, um… I mean no. I’m just here to deliver back the clipboard. It was recently filled in with new information,” mumbled Earl, hoping that the sheet was changed since the last time the doctor saw it. He ground his teeth as the doctor reached for the clipboard to check.
“Ah yes. Thank you very much. Your services won’t be needed right now.” Earl let out a sigh of relief. His heart rate had a sudden increase; so much so that Earl feared the doctor could hear it. He turned around and caught a glimpse of Arthur; he was curled up with his hands over his ears and tears running from his eyes; this was nothing like the old arrogant man he’d seen before.
Earl realized it was very unlikely that he would talk to Arthur that day, so he headed home. He walked back with his head hung low, nurse scrubs scrunched up in one hand and his stolen dinner in the other. When he arrived home, he was unperturbed by the mess created earlier that morning, and he sat in his swivel chair, gazing at the pile of unpaid taxes and rent. He flicked the switch to turn on the lights but nothing happened – the electric bill had not been paid in months. He looked around at the dump he was living in. Never before had he cleaned his house – he thought that it was pointless because it would just get messier again; he decided to try it out for the first time, to see if it did anything. He cleaned up his house, and cleaned the shattered television until a few hours before dawn and finally slept.
March 25th began with Earl sitting in the hospital, but instead being in costume, he was dressed normally, as a visitor. Visiting felt strange – heck, he didn’t even visit his parents this often in a decade. This was also, the first time he’d done the same thing for three days in a row, in his adulthood. Was this his first step into adulthood at age 37?
“Hey it’s you again. Can you get me some hard stuff like you did last time?” Arthur barked.
“Ummm… I don’t think that would be the best decision right now, especially because of your… condition,” Earl said, struggling to string his sentence together
“WHAT CONDITION, BOY? I am perfectly fine, thank you very much.”
Earl picked up the clipboard and handed it to Arthur. Arthur read the board, face blanching. Soon after, a tear dripped down from his eye; but the sorrow was eclipsed by rage: the board was smashed against the wall. The thin piece of wood pierced through the cheap hollow wall, almost going completely through it and entering the room across. Then, a noise from the rooms above shattered the silence. Earl didn’t know how to react, so he slowly backpedaled to the door while Arthur lay there, sobbing into his hands.
“It’s all my fault,” Arthur cried. “If only I had known better.”
Chapter 3 – Hazy Thinking
“What do you mean?” Earl felt sympathetic, even though he could walk past an orphanage without batting an eye. “It is not like you could’ve foreseen this.”
Arthur remained sitting in his bed.
“Yea, I could’ve. Ever since a young age, I made bad decisions. My life has consisted of bad decisions, one after another. I never had a good job, never had a family, never became sober for longer than a… … month. I have so many regrets.”
Earl started to consider the possibility that this wasn’t Arthur and it might be his twin. The clock ticked by, painfully slow.
“Do you still want that alcohol?” Earl asked, his sympathy clouding his judgment.
Earl had to take a breather, so he wandered into the hallway and sat on a bench. With his elbows resting on his knees, and head supported by his hands, he sat, reflecting for an hour. He thought long and hard, seeing his life flash through his mind in a blur. What had he been doing all his life?
Later that day, he went out to a bar in hopes of drinking away his problems. After a few beers, he found that after every sip, he started thinking about Arthur’s misfortune more and more. He left the bar slightly drunk, earlier than usual, at 1 A.M. He didn’t have to worry about drunk driving because he didn’t even own a car. He found an unchained bicycle lying on the side of the road, but there was one problem; the bike was meant for a child half his height. Not seeing a problem, he hopped onto the bike and pedaled away, planning to ride the whole two-mile perilous journey back to his house on the small bike. When crossing the bridge, he noticed a figure a couple hundred meters away, walking on the other side. As he got closer and closer, the outline became more apparent, even though everything appeared to be wobbly – perhaps they were as wasted as Earl? Did this person need help? Earl felt strangely compassionate. As Earl peered closer, he forgot to continue looking at the path and fell to his side. He stumbled to get back up and before he knew it, the man was out of sight. Earl foolishly did a U-turn after getting off the bridge and went in the direction back to the bar to follow the stranger.
After minutes of pedaling, Earl finally caught up to the man. Earl threw his bike onto the ground, and snuck up on the man. Earl placed his hand on the stranger’s shoulder, and pulled him back.
“What the heck, what are you doing here? More importantly, why didn’t you change first? You look like a train wreck.”
Arthur smiled. “I just wanted to get some fresh air, this might be the last time. Didn’t want my last few days to be staring at a blank white wall, but the beautiful skyline instead.”
“Just download a picture. That is all it takes. You didn’t have to come out here to look at something that takes you a press of a button to get to.”
“You don’t understand. You’re too young. My life has been full of blank walls. Whether it be the light grey walls of the factory I worked at for a large portion of my life, the blood stained walls of my jail cell, or even the darkness of eyelids after passing out on a night filled with drinking, I’ve … I’ve…”
“Seems pretty rough. Eh, good luck getting back.” In a drunken way this time, and with a more insistent spin, his life again flashed before his eyes, and instincts kicked in. He left Arthur on the bridge alone, and didn’t even think of him until later that morning… when he woke up in someone’s front yard.
Chapter 4 – The Awakening
“GET OFF MY LAWN YOU PESKY HOOLIGAN,” yelled the homeowner as he walked out in the morning. Earl blinked his eyes rapidly when awakened, realizing the severity of the situation. He grabbed his half-empty beer can that lay beside him and scrambled off. What was he thinking last night? The one time had Arthur needed him, he had messed up and simply ignored him. Earl rushed back to the hospital to apologize.
On the long, headache-ridden walk back to Lewis Gale Hospital, Earl didn’t realize that the path kept repeating itself. After each round, he would notice that the pedestrians were different, so he would continue walking in the same direction. He finally decided to catch a taxi because of the growing frustration he was experiencing. On the 3-minute ride, he puked once, fell asleep once, and jeopardized his safety by unknowingly attacking the driver, as he reached for a tissue to wipe the slobber off his own face. Once the car came to a halt, Earl pulled open the door, falling face first onto the rough concrete. He slowly made his way over to the entrance, forgetting to pay the driver. The driver bolted towards Earl, but, unaware of what was going on, Earl too decided to start running in the same direction. After almost ten meters, Earl found himself lying on the ground, face pushed down into the damp grass, with an overweight man sitting on him, crushing him.
Upon discovering that he had no money, not even a wallet, the driver called the police, who arrived shortly thereafter. He was brought to the police station where he was penalized for not paying his taxi fare with extra fines. He was then escorted outside by a police officer; after stepping into a taxi, the officer gently pulled Earl out of the car, suggesting that it would be better for him, and the rest of the world, if he were to walk to his destination. Earl was now 347 dollars poorer and 3km further away from the hospital than where he had awakened, on the lawn. It took nearly two hours for this hung over imposter to get back to the hospital for the second time that day.
The long corridor seemed much busier, with nurses frantically running around. Earl sensed that there was an emergency occurring. He walked over to the water dispenser, where he filled his cup and gazed around at the room. Too tired to stand up properly, Earl leaned on top of the water dispenser, but after a short black out, his legs thrust up into the air and he fell on the slippery wet ground, his finger still on the spout, dispensing water. No one tended him, and gradually, he awoke.
“Room 318, the patient is not responding. Get the doctor!” one nurse shouted to the other from across the hall. 318. That number sounded familiar to Earl. Was it his high score on a video game… or maybe the number of chips he could eat in 4 minutes? Oh wait; it was Arthur’s room number.
Earl ran as fast as he could. He climbed up the stairs three steps at a time until he arrived on the third floor. Thanks to his frequent visits, he knew the map of the hospital like the back of his hand. When he entered the room, it was already crowded with four or five nurses and doctors who were all surrounding Arthur, trying to come up with a solution; no one even noticed that he had walked in. He tried to see over the sea of people, but he could only catch a glimpse of Arthur’s face for a split second by jumping up. Arthur’s eyes were open, head hung to the left, and he was not responding to the shouting people, as the heart monitor on the right had become a straight-line. Just like that, a man’s life had ended. Earl exited the room.
When he went home, he sat down on his swivel chair, surrounded by stacks upon stacks of blank forms that were weeks, if not months, overdue. He fell asleep on the floor and was woken up by a police officer. His landlord had warned him multiple times in the previous months of eviction. Earl sat on the sidewalk with suitcase in hand. He was only left with one option. The next day, he awoke early from his sidewalk bed, rustled up a suit and tie, and marched, for the first time in two decades, to a job interview as a real estate agent. Anybody could sell houses, right? If he got the job, think of how many homes he’d have!