Chapter 13

Almost two weeks in and the new year had come and gone, leaving behind the remnants of cheers from a boisterous crowd, bundled in their winter jackets watching the ball drop in Time Square. Road cleaners and garbage men scoured the city cleaning what was left of broken bottles and confetti bombs, New York, fading back into an assembly line of gears working to keep the lights on.

            A few inches of snow still stuck to the cold ground. Kicking my boots off on the outer brick wall, I shivered walking into the hospital.

            “Back again Mr. Pitello?” one of the nurses at the main desk asked. A fair skinned brunette with long fingernails and lipstick brighter than the sun. A pleasant woman but I came to learn she was recently divorced and looking to ‘test the waters’ once again.

“Yes, Ms. Childress. The stories not going to write itself,” I said, throwing a friendly smile her way.

“Oh, call me Debby.” She wiggled her eyes awkwardly, twisting her hair with a finger like a 70s teen from California. “I had an idea. Why don’t you come by my place, we’ll have a glass of wine and we can read through that book of yours. You know, make some edits.”

Speechless, I fidgeted with my bag and rushed to the elevator.

As my feet landed in the Rehabilitation Ward, a sense of calm waved over me. “Morning nurse Benson,” I said, quickly signing in and headed to Mary-ann’s room.

Only the white glow from the window lit the room, sending thin rays of light through the blinds. The bed was empty, blankets tossed to the side and one of the railings hung down below the mattress. Mary-ann’s snow globe sat on the windowsill, the flecks of snow spread evenly across the floor of New York, much like it was outside.

I pulled the blind to the side and peer out at the small park. Mary-ann and Landon lay on their backs, arms and legs waving back and forth. I quietly opening the window and I could hear laughter. Allan sat on the bench, Mary-ann’s empty wheelchair beside him.

“Let’s stand up and see what they look like,” Landon shouted, throwing a handful of

snow in the air. He jumped up quickly, thrusting his arms above his head.

            Allan helped Mary-ann to her feet, brushing the snow from her back.

            “Oh, they looked wonderful,” Mary-ann said.

            “Way cool. Did you know that the world record for most snow angels made simultaneously in a single place is 8,962 in North Dakota? It happened only a couple years ago on the State Capitol Grounds in Bismarck.” Landon squatted, rolled up a handful of snow and threw it.

            “How do you know so many things?” Allan asked, helping Mary-ann back into her wheelchair.

            Landon shrugged. “I just remember something that I read, or see, or something someone tells me. I love learning new things.”

            “It’s quite remarkable.” Allan sat back down and blew hot air into his hands.

            “I’m going to build a snowman.” Landon rushed into the opening and slid on his knees. His hands worked quickly, forming a small snowball, then beginning the process of rolling it over and over until it was too heavy for him to push. “That will be the base,” he said.

            I closed the window and made my way down to the park, the cold air seeping through my clothes, and jackhammering at my skin. Allan saw me from afar, waving me over, his eyes grinning beneath his scarf.

            “Good morning Sal,” he said.

            “Good morning everyone.” I looked out at Landon who was rolling the body and gave him a thumbs-up. He smiled, focusing all of his energy back to the snow. “I love what you’ve done with the place Mama,” I said, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Your snow angels look amazing.”

Mary-ann waved at the ground, her lips parting, struggling to find words.

“Hey mister,” Landon said. “Could you help me lift this onto the base?”

Patting Mary-ann gently on the arm, I trudged through the snow to where Landon was

standing. “Get started on the head and I’ll bring this over,” I said, bending down and wrapping my arms around the boulder.

            Landon scurried off and quickly returned with a third, but smaller and more lopsided snowball. After placing it on top, we went about forming the spheres, stuffing excess snow into the cracks to keep it sturdy.

            “Perfect,” Landon said with excitement, punching the air. “I’ll go get some stones for the eyes and buttons and sticks for his arm.” As he ran off he shouted, “You’re on carrot duty.”

            Giggling, I walked back to the bench. “Where am I going to find a carrot out here?” I asked, crossing my arms.

            Allan laughed. “You better find something, or that kid’s going to be rather disappointed.” He pushed me away, throwing a small handful of snow.

            “Thanks a lot.” Looking back, I could see his face crinkled.

            “It’s not a carrot, but it will have to do,” I said, returning with a short, fat stick.

            “And, there. Perfect.” Landon stepped back, waving his arms like an artist presenting their masterpiece.

            “Looks great,” I said, holding my hand up.

            He slapped my hand and said, “Thanks mister.”

            “Sal.”

            “Is that short for Salvador?” he asked as he sat down on the bench in between Mary-ann and Allan. He brushed the snow off his legs.

            “Yes, my full name is Salvador Louise Pitello.”

            “Were you named after the artist?”

            I bent down and grabbed a handful of snow, rolling it around in my hands. “Salvador Dali?”

            “Salvador Felipe Jacinto Dali y Domenech, to be exact.” Landon scooched back on the bench, resting his arm on Mary-ann’s wheelchair. “My mother has a replica of The Persistence of Memory. You know, his 1931 painting of the melting clocks.”

            I stood baffled at the nonchalance of his knowledge, his ability to remember. It was as if there was a transfer of power between him and Mary-ann, a connection they weren’t even aware of.

            “I know that painting. It’s probably the only one I’d recognize.”

            The door to the hospital opened and nurse Proctor stepped out. “It’s time to come back inside. We don’t want either of you staying out too long and getting sick, okay?” She waved, stepping back behind the glass.

            Landon hoped to his feet and spun the wheelchair. He was barely able to see over the top but he pushed, grunting with each step.

            “Almost there,” Mary-ann said.

            Allan took over as we went through the door, kicking the snow from his boots.

            “Let’s get you out of your wet clothing alright,” nurse Proctor said, pulling the hat off Landon’s head. “There’s a cup of hot cocoa waiting for you.” She leaned down and whispered loudly into his ear. “With extra marshmallows.”

            “Yes!” Landon jumped up and down. “Did you hear that,” he said, planting a kiss on Mary-ann’s cheek. “Hot cocoa with extra marshmallows.”

            “That will warm us right up,” she said, reaching for her scarf.

            We sat on a couch in the main lobby, our hands clamped tightly around our cups, steam twisting up like the smoke from a campfire.

            “There are so many marshmallows I can’t even see the hot cocoa,” Landon said, poking at them with his finger. “Mama. Do you want to play a game?” he asked.

            “I think I’m too tired for games after all that fun in the snow.” Mary-ann’s hands shook as she lifted her cup to her lips.

            “But this game is simple. It’s all about creating story a and using strategy. It’s called Find the Buried Treasure.”

            “I’ve never heard of that game before,” Mary-ann said. Her eyelids were heavy, slowly dropping closed as her head tilted forward.

            “It’s so much fun!” Landon shouted, bouncing in his seat and jarring Mary-ann’s eyes open.

            Allan looked on with concern. “Maybe the two of you can play another time. She needs her rest.”

            “Okay,” Landon said, tossing a marshmallow into his mouth and chewing happily. “I can’t wait!” He slid off the couch, nearly spilling his drink. “Bye Mama. Bye Mr. Cauldwell. Bye Salvador.” With a wave, he was gone, skipping down the hallway, droplets of hot cocoa leaving a trail behind him.

             I helped Allan get Mary-ann into her bed before heading to the office.

 

<> 

 

            “Where are you off to so quickly Domonique?” I asked, throwing my bag on Ryan’s desk.

            “Haiti,” she said as she stuffed her lenses into her camera bag. “You didn’t hear? Major earthquake, millions homeless in a matter of minutes.”

            I stared blankly at the television on the wall. Bodies were scattered across rubble filled streets, crying mothers standing over their dead children. A rescue crew worked vigorously alongside locals to find survivors.

            “I had no idea. When did this happen?” I asked, taking my phone from my pocket. Four missed calls and three emails. “Damn. Sorry Ryan, I was at the hospital with Mary-ann.”

            “It’s fine. I put our new hires to work on the phones and Domonique is leaving with Collin on the next flight out. We’ve got things covered.” He rolled his chair to the end of his desk and grabbed a piece of paper off the top of a stack. “Amy said this needs a fact check. The woman at the construction site said to call for a follow-up interview. Other than that, it’s ready for print.”

            “Alright. I’ll make a few phone calls now and get it back to you. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do about this Haitian thing?”

            “Not unless you want to get on a plane and go there,” Ryan said, looking up at Domonique.

            “It’s not that I don’t like Collin. He just thinks he’s a smooth talker, but really, he sounds like a horse that’s desperate for water.” Domonique zipped up her camera bag and slung it over a shoulder.

            Ryan shrugged. “Is that a good enough reason for you to go Sal?” he asked, sarcasm seeping through every word.

            “As much as I love you Dom, you’re a strong enough woman to fight off the likes of Collin.” I rested a compassionate hand on her shoulder and walked to my office.