Drowning in the East River (10 page)

No one around him stirred, despite the volume of his wheezing.

He tried to lift his hands, but his wrists were secured to the bed with rough leather straps.

He squeezed his eyes closed, searching his brain for anything to cling to in his fuzzy memory. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious, and how he had come to be in the hospital.

Settling back down, the pain faded and David was left listening to the sound of his own raspy breathing. The bodies in the crowded room were oddly still, projecting the overwhelming shadow of death over the ward. Other than the painful sound of his own breathing, the only other noise was the occasional shuffling of someone moving under their covers.

"Excuse me," David asked, closing his eyes against the anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Hearing no sound or movement in response, he tried to raise his voice a little more. “Anybody?”

The searing pain in his throat every time he spoke was agonizing. Despite projecting his voice to shout, the sound escaping from his mouth was barely more than a raspy whisper. He swallowed back his pain and tried again. "Is anybody there?”

He blinked, pushing the tears clouding his vision down his cheeks as he tried again to swallow. All he wanted was to moisten his parched throat.

"You're okay.”

David refocused, his eyes falling on a boy propped up awkwardly in the bed next to him. "Wh-" David started to speak, but stopped as a coughing fit hit him. He gasped, sucking in shallow breaths between coughs, the spasms feeling like razor blades slicing his windpipe. He gripped the sheets at his side, trying to get control of himself.

"Paris," the boy replied, his voice dropping to just above a whisper as one of the sleeping men stirred in one of the adjacent cots. Looking at him, he couldn't have been much older than eighteen years old. A large bandage was tightly wound over one of his eyes, blood was starting to seep through the clean white cloth. Half of his face had been destroyed, probably by a bomb blast. His deep voice was strangely calming in the unsettling darkness of the room. His accent was British. "This is a military hospital just outside of gay Paris.”

"How long have I been here?" David croaked, he closed his eyes and dropped back against the pillow. Each sentence took a herculean effort. He white knuckled the sheets, expressing his pain through his fingers. He exhaled sharply.

"Two or three days ago, I expect. Someone said you were in a group that came off the German front?"

David nodded, shifting his gaze back up towards the ceiling. He closed his eyes, letting memories flood back into his mind. His tongue tripped over the words as he continued. "My trench was overrun... The last thing I remember..." He paused, swallowing the frog in his throat.

“Looking at you, I’d say gas?”

"We had to go up and over to escape it." David said, looking through the darkness. "The Germans were just waiting for that."

"That's what the nurses said."

"Why am I tied down?" David asked, he tugged at the thick leather straps keeping his wrists locked at his side. The room was becoming increasingly clear as the minutes passed, and David could feel pain building in his muscles as his body woke from its drowsiness.

"To keep from scratching the blisters I expect," the boy said. He stopped, gingerly scratching his bandage, which was digging into the side of his forehead. His voice was weighed down with exhaustion as he looked around the room, his eyes scanning for a nurse. "Just breathe..."

"It hurts," David croaked, tugging on the straps. He squeezed his eyes closed, anxiety surged through his muscles. He blew out a shaky breath, speaking through clenched teeth. "I feel like my lungs are on fire."

"That's good. I'd be more worried if it wasn't hurting," a nurse seemed to materialize out of the darkness above him, her white uniform shining angelically in the darkness. Her American accent stood out in the David stared up at her, as she quickly busied herself working over him. She slipped a thermometer under his tongue, and looked into his pupils. She spoke as she worked, a no-nonsense tone hanging over her voice. "We were starting to worry about you."

It was a disconcerting feeling to wander through the city streets after dark. The streetlights created vivid shadows, leading his the imagination run amok with unnerving thoughts and suspicions of what was hiding out in the darkness. All his demons came to life in the polluted darkness.

David stopped walking and leaned heavily against the brick facade of a building and stared up at the night sky. The further uptown he walked, the more striking and vivid the stars became against the dark sky.

He stabbed out his cigarette out and dropped it onto the pavement.

Turning the corner, he opened the door of the Birchwood. The bar was packed to the brim despite the early hour of the evening. The few small windows glowed brightly with life in the otherwise dark building.

Walking into the bar, he scanned the room looking for Elise, hoping she would be out on the floor mingling with clients.

David walked over to the bar, still scanning faces as he passed. He sat down on one of the few empty stools and reached into his pocket for another cigarette. "Can I get a scotch?" He asked, looking in the direction of the bartender. The man on duty tonight was a grandfatherly man, probably old enough to have mixed drinks during the Civil War.

"Looking for someone?" The bartender asked David, sliding the scotch in front of him. He scrutinized him with a knowing glance. The man moved in front of him, bending slightly at the waist to look David straight in the eye. "You look like you've seen a ghost, my boy."

David looked up, catching sight of his own gaunt, pale face in the mirror behind the bar. He shifted his glance back to the bartender, not wanting to look into his own hollowed out eyes. "Is El- Miss. Carpenter in tonight?"

"I think she's upstairs," the bartender said, his eyes shooting towards the rickety staircase in the back of the bar. He moved over to the bar to pour a glass of beer. "Is she expecting you?"

"No," David said, hunching his shoulders over his drink. He threw the scotch down his throat, heat immediately spreading across his cheeks. He squeezed his tired eyes closed, but he could feel the bartenders eyes boring into his forehead. "She's not."

The bartender took a step closer to David, dropping down to his level on the other side of the bar. “Go up and see her."

"Excuse me?" David asked, opening his eyes.

"You look like you need it," the bartender said. "I'm sure she wouldn’t mind."

"Thank you," David said, shakily getting to his feet.

CHAPTER SIX

"David," Elise said, opening the door to her bedroom. Looking him over, she quickly tied her robe. Even with the satin tie fastened, her cleavage was barely contained by the thin material. Judging by her outfit, as well as the surprise reflecting in her eyes, she had a gentleman caller already in her bedroom. David's stomach dropped as her eyes shot back into the dark bedroom. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to leave," David replied, swallowing the emotion back from his voice. He wiped his eyes, taking a moment to collect himself. "I wasn't sure where else to go. I started walking..." He thought for a moment before he continued, "But, I don't want to disturb you."

"What about your son?" Elise asked, taking another discreet look back into her room. She nodded at someone before shifting her attention back toward David and running a discreet hand through her frizzy blonde hair. She stepped further out into the hallway, and pulled the door shut behind her. She crossed her arms in front of her, a hint of awkwardness in her body language. "What are you doing with him?"

"My sisters-in-law have him," David replied. The earthy smell of reefer wafting from inside the room mixed with the lavender scent of her perfume, filling his head with a euphoric dizziness. David stammered, looking down at his feet. "Really, if you have company, I don't want to disturb you."

"Get in here," Elise said, pulling the door open for him. A slow smile crossed over her lips. She reached out for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as it slipped inside of her's. "You know I can't say no to you, David." She let her hand linger on his forearm as he crossed next to her. "Come on. It looks like you need to see a friendly face."

"I appreciate this, Elise," David said, quickly wiping at his nose with his handkerchief. "You have no idea."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me," Elise replied. She took a moment, helping him slide his worn jacket off his shoulders. She slung it over one of the rickety chairs in the corner of the room.

The bedroom glowed with the light emanating from a gas lamp tucked neatly in the corner.

David looked around quickly, not quite sure what he was walking in too. Three men were sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor, wallowing in thick, herbal smelling smoke. Just looking at them, David could tell they were intellectual types. One of them quietly scribbled in a notebook, while the others seemed more interesting in socializing.

"David Freeman, this is Alexander, Carl and Martin." Elise said, gesturing towards each of the men in turn. Elise gingerly sat back down on the floor, tucking her knees demurely underneath her. She picked up her cigarette, which balanced on the rim of the ashtray. "This is my little collective."

Unbuttoning his vest, David sat on the floor, tentatively joining the small circle. He rolled up his shirt sleeves, and brushed a stray strand of hair from his face. Alexander, Dean and Martin were clean shaven, barely older than twenty. Their suits had the crisp polish of well-bred university boys. Their ruffled hair cast a hint of rebellion over their squeaky clean image.

Elise held out a cigarette. "Take a puff, David," Elise said, moistening her lips. She crossed her legs around in front of her, seemingly unconcerned with how much she was putting on display. She smiled gently, "You'll feel better."

One of the men stood up and slowly and crossed the room. "I know what we need..." He dug through a chest of drawers, pulling out an elaborately designed green bottle filled. A mischievous smile crossed his lips as his eyes shot towards Elise. "Just as I thought..."

"Good thinking," Elise said, holding her hand out for the bottle. She glanced over at David, her eyes bright and glassy. She pressed the rim of the bottle to her mouth. She squeezed her eyes closed as relaxation flooded her body. She licked her lips, with just a hint of seductiveness. "This could be just what you need."

Elise passed David the bottle of absinthe. Bringing the bottle to his lips, he took a long swig of the sweet, thick drink. He coughed, trying to disguise a hiccup in his throat. David looked down at his hand; he was playing with the wedding band on his ring finger. "I buried my wife and daughter last week. I'd rather not be alone right now."

The boy called Alexander took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, which were glassy from the cannabis. His voice was quiet in the relaxed silence of the room. "I'm sorry for your loss." He turned his head, and looked David over with wide and expressive green eyes. "I can't imagine what you must be going through."

David glanced toward Elise. Her deep blue eyes seemed miles away as the conversation continued. A slow smile spread over her lips as she chuckled quietly to herself. The reefer and drinks hand gone to her head, and she was having a great time lost in her own little world.

Elise grabbed David's hand and worked the wedding band from his narrow finger. She raised her eyes to meet his. "I know just what to do with this."

"But-" David sat froward, watching her carefully.

She pulled a simple gold chain from around her neck. Working the tiny clasp, she fed the necklace through the ring, and handed it back to David. "Now you can keep her close.”

"Thank you." David leaned forward and rubbed his eyes. The marijuana smoke hanging in the air burned his sinuses. He continued, trying to ignore the uneasy relaxation spreading throughout his body. He exhaled deeply as he look around the room. "I really miss her. I feel like such a big part of me is missing."