GOODNIGHT

A Story by NIICAM

A part of this past will be here forever. A memory can be forgotten within a second, but it will exist for many lifetimes.

The wind blew viciously casting a blizzard of snow over the never ending terrain. Winter has unleashed its wrath across the landscape, covering everything for miles with a thick blanket of snow: smothering all of the land and consuming the entire sky with a hellious whiteout. The wind ripped and whipped, clawing at the landscape; nothing was safe from natures deadly revenge on the world.

When the storm died down, the evidence was overwhelming. All that was visible were the faint silhouette of evergreen trees, as they grew up the rolling hills. The sky was white, and the sun was blinding as it reflected off the tree tops.

The land was almost completely untouched by man; only a few roads traveled through this heavily forested area, making it nearly impenetrable. About four miles off of the highway, tucked back on one of the valley floors, which was littered with miniature mountain ranges, was a small clearing with a warm unique home at the bottom of a foothill.

The house was litterally impossible to find; the only evidence that it even existed was the one road going in and which was the one road heading out. A person hiking through the forest would never know it was there until stumbling up the back steps. Wildlife usually exploded from the tree tops, but with this winter, not even a branch moved. Smoke steamed from its chimney, barely breaking even with the tree tops as it rolled down the canyon, disappearing around its bend.

A large window overlooked the snow covered mountains frost covering its corners like a big icy snowflake. Every tree branch had delicate frosting covering it; making it look fragile and ready to break.

A small fire made a warm glow that covered the room. Bookshelves took up most of the space on the walls, and a few chairs hovered in the corners with blankets draped over them. It looked like they have been untouched for too long. A beautiful rug hugged the floor, spanning away from the fireplace, covering the rich dark hardwood floors.

An old man lies in bed; machines hooked to both arms. A delicate rhythum beeped through the machine, matching the mood of the room: feeble, soothing, grateful. Still alive. The old mans face was rich with thick lines, making him look seasoned with misery and suffering. At first glance it is apparent that the man is not there; he is lost.

He was on his back immobile. The sheets were pressed and creased at the corners. His hands were at his sides with IV's running from both of them. It is a grim sights, all that is missing from this depressing picture is a cold black Raven; perched and waiting, "Nevermore." Death was inevitable, and the man’s face showed no sign of acknowledgement for what was becoming of him.

The sounds of heels clacking against the floor grew from the distance. A small brunette women with her hair tied back entered the room from the adjacent hallway. She slowed as she passed the door, and met the old man’s face with her somber eyes. The fact that he did not notice her enter the room was just Fact. She slowly walked to the left side of the bed and grabbed at the scroll produced by the machine.

Clutching the paper she flicked on the lamp beside it. Her eyes were tired, unaltered, as she pulled her wire rim glasses further down her nose. Tilting her head back as she browsed the document; there was no change in her already expectant face.

After she finished studying the sheet of jagged lines and numbers she moved to the other side of the bed. Her hands moved softly as she gripped the man’s hand in hers; they appeared aged and swollen with veins. Her hand was dwarfed in size, but her grip was passionate and gentle.

Her eyes were closed; her mood was sure, as if she knew that he knew he wasn't alone. She opened her eyes and made a smile as she peered in to his face, there was no change; no register of the machine that would indicate any acknowledgment of her presence. She knew that her time spent with him would be unnoticed, but her persistence to connect with him on any level gave her peace.

The sound of feet sweeping the tile outside the room broke her concentration. She gave one last squeeze and walked in to the hallway to meet the approaching man just outside the doorway.

His eyes were tired, and his face showed it. His face was blank and drooped from lack of sleep. He was slenderly tall and his long arms continued at his side until they disappeared into the pockets of his black slacks. His white shirt was wrinkled, and his mild grey tie loosened at the knot. The tie matched his eyes except for their hint of blue.

"How is he doing?" The man said letting his fatigue show through his tone. His eyes were gently fixed to hers.

"He is doing fine," she replied calmly hoping to ease the sadness showing in the younger man’s face. "I just looked at the stats and everything has remained constant. There has been no response to the new drugs that would indicate the medication is working." Her eyes and tone had grown softer, obviously showing she was both tired and disappointed with the news herself.

He looked at the floor as he asked what it means? He took his hands from his pocket and scratched the back of his head, appearing puzzled with thought. He finally spoke. "Well, if the new meds aren’t working, then maybe we should switch back to the old ones. They were working at first, and we could just double up dosages." He glanced to her only seeing her expression never changed as she slightly shook her head at his words.

"The old medication has a resistance built towards it; I fear that if we were to switch up the doses his body will go into cardiac arrest; it’s the most common reaction to multiple doses at this stage." She became fearful to the thought of what he was requesting, clearly showing her heart on her sleeve when needed. Her body relaxed as she looked at the stress in the young man’s face. Pain in his heart showed just as well as the pain in his reaction. She made a soft clearing of her throat, trying to suppress her true emotions and remain professional, even though she knows exactly what he felt with the news.

"Henry," she said, gently touching his arm, "there is nothing more that we can do." Her eyes noticeably watering and her voice cracking, "if we do anything more we will lose him."

"He is already lost!" He replied with deep pain and a quick response.

"He is," grabbing his face with her gentle hands, "comfortable. If we do anything more, he will not make it through the night." She said lowering her voice even quieter than it already was. "There is nothing more that we can do, Henry. We have done everything we can to keep him here, but now we can keep him as peaceful as possible until he is ready to go." Her eyes looking for his, and a beautiful smile creased her lips. A smile that was soothing and comforting at every bound, for she was speaking the truth. The reality was the old man was going to die.

He cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling. Taking a breath, he looked at her. "He is just an empty shell," he said not being able to stop the tear before it hit his cheek.

"No no no no no," she replied quickly. She brushed the tear from his face with her soft hands and looked at him. "He is your father, he knows that. He might not be able to remember, but..." She raised her hands up as if looking out into the sky, looking for something; a smile. "He knows who his son is." The young man chuckled and seemed more relieved. The doctor smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Now, you need to go get some sleep Henry; at least a few hours. I will watch him for now."

He cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling, took a deep breath and let it out quickly. His eyes met hers, they were sad but showed the undeniable love and care for the old man that was still hanging on with threads attached.

"Thank you." He said. She gave a quiet nod and he knew exactly what that meant.

"Your welcome," she said. "Now go get some rest Henry." He smiled at her and started to walk off, but stopped again

"Dr. Moreno?" He said with a long pause; his back to her. "If only he knew how much you cared for him."

She smiled at his words and was stopped in comforting thought, and slowly replied, "He already does."