Room 428
By John Paul Lazaro
It was a dark and stormy night; the stars that usually lit the night sky were covered by a blanket of gray clouds. It was gonna rain. I took out from my bag a small contraption that normal people would call an umbrella and opened it over my head. The rain began to pour as I walked on the pavement on my way home. Halfway through the 2-kilometer walk, I felt obliged to look to my left. I don’t know why, but I did. Just as I was turning my head, a small white ambulance caught my eye. I figured right then and there that the world was trying to send me a message. I needed to visit my friend.
The moment I got in my house, I punched in the number of the institute in my phone and informed the person on the other end of the line about my visit the next day. They have grown accustomed to my frequent visits. This friend of mine is very special, probably even more special than what people know. That night, I grabbed a quick snack, brushed my teeth, took a cold shower, and called it a day.
The next day, I woke up to the annoying beeping of the alarm clock. 8 A.M. Oh shit, I’m late. I propped my self up the bed and smelled my armpits. Still fresh from last night’s bath, so I slipped into my jeans and shirt and grabbed the car keys. It was a 45-minute drive from my place to the institution. I turned on the radio and played my favorite station. After a couple of blocks, I pulled over to a small fast food joint and ordered cheeseburger and fries to-go. Nothing says quality breakfast like fast food.
After half an hour, I was already near the institution. I circled around the block where the institution was in the hopes of finding a good parking spot near the entrance of the establishment. Lady luck was probably on my side that day because I was able to find a spot just across the institution. I parallel parked in one take, not that I’m bragging.
As I opened the door of the institution, familiar faces greeted me with smiles. I walked over to the counter and asked the lady in white as to my scheduled visit. In less than a minute, she asked a nurse to escort me to one of the rooms. The hallway was faintly lit and reeked the smell of isopropyl alcohol and cough syrup, an unappealing combination. At the far end of the hallway, there it was.
Room 428.
The nurse opened the cold steel door and let me in.
She was sitting on the bed, her face painted with a smile.
“Hello.” She finally said. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
I grinned. “Sorry about that. I’m trying to visit as much as I could, trust me.”
“I know. I was just joking.” She let out a stifled laugh. “Can you tell me more about your wife again? I really like listening to your stories.”
“Of course. What about her do you want to hear?” I smiled.
We talked for hours and hours. Time flew by quickly. The next thing I knew, the nurse is knocking on the door. Visiting hours is over. I had to leave. The sun was setting and it was getting late. I had to bid farewell to my friend. She smiled and stood up.
“You’re the best friend a woman could ever ask for. Your wife is very lucky to have you.” She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.
All I could give her was a smile. I turned my back away and walked out the door.
Outside, the nurse escorted me out the establishment. He looked puzzled. I knew he wanted to ask something.
“Sir, if I may ask. You’ve been visiting that patient since she got her. Are you her relative?”
I simple smiled and looked away.
“She’s my wife.”
