LITMIR.BIZ

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to be determined.”

      Zoey wanted to wring his turkey neck, but wanted something for pain more. Angering the man with the meds could be detrimental to her health. She leaned forward, moved her long hair from the sandwich of mattress and backside, and draped the tangled strands over her gauzed shoulder. “What’s next?”

      “Paperwork and tests.”

      “What kind of tests?”

      “The standards. Also an MRI, EEG, and I’d like you to have a session with a neuropsychologist. We have to check the anatomic and cognitive functioning of your brain.”

      “My brain? What’s wrong with my brain?” she asked, stifling a screech.

      “Hopefully nothing.” He scribbled on his pad. “If it’s any consolation, I believe you’re fine.”

      Nurse Chong reentered with a cup and a thermometer. Without gentle precaution she swiped Zoey’s forehead with the latest in medical technology. “102.”

      “Are you currently taking medications?” Dr. Selden asked while writing.

      “Cymbalta.”

      “How much?”

      “Ten milligrams.” That was all she’d admit to.

      “And you’re sure you have no allergies.”

      “I’m allergic to pain.” She licked her parched lips. “It makes me bitchy.”

      Nurse Chong handed her a Dixie cup of heaven.

      Zoey slanted the Dixie and swallowed the pills, crumpled the cup and dropped it on the floor.

      Dr. Selden and Nurse Chong glared like strict librarians. She’d seen the look in the library when her cellphone rang during story time.

      “What?” Zoey reached for the cup of water on the bedside table. “I’ll pick it up on my way out.”

      Dr. Selden’s pen skidded across the paper. He muttered, “Oxacillin.” He ripped a prescription sheet from a smaller pad and passed it to Nurse Chong.

      “Yes, doctor.” Nurse Chong leveled her shoulders and assimilated into the hectic hallway.

      Dr. Selden clicked his ballpoint and put it in his pocket. “Do you have family members you’d like to call, or someone you’d like us to contact?”

      Zoey pressed the button and flattened her bed. “Ha! No.”

      “You’re sure?”

      “Positive.”

      “Your decision,” he said. “Get some sleep, and I’ll check on you before shift change.” Dr. Selden turned abruptly and headed into the hall.

      Zoey closed her eyes and attempted to ignore various debilitating emotions she’d had for the past year. No matter how hard she’d tried to snuff her thoughts, there’d always be sprigs of memory she couldn’t overlook. She wondered why her son couldn’t be recuperating in a hospital bed and she resting in peace. Nothing made sense. She wiped an irritating tear. She wanted to sleep but Nurse Chong would rattle her when she returned with the antibiotics.

      “How long does it take? She’s got her head in her ass again.”

      Damn Nurse Chong.

      * * * *

      Zoey awoke less impassioned, her mind and body suspended in an unnatural state of calm. A familiar figure stood nearby. She rubbed the sand from her eyes and spotted the IV buried in her vein. She remembered.

      “You’ve been asleep almost fifteen hours,” Dr. Selden said. “How do you feel?”

      She felt blank. “Fine, I think.” She swallowed. “Did you say I slept fifteen hours?”

      “Yes. You’ve rendered this ward speechless.”

      She smacked her gummy tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Why?”

      “Temperature is normal, heart rate is normal.” He tapped his chin with the pen. “And we’ve changed the dressing on your wound twice. Sunday you had three pea-sized blisters in the center of your burn. As of an hour ago, they’re gone.”

      “My burn healed?”

      “Not entirely, you still have a second-degree burn. But typically blisters take much longer to repair. Are you still in pain?”

      “I don’t know. I can’t feel anything but a full bladder.”

      “I’ll call a nurse.”

      “No.” She elevated the bed. “I’m okay.” Zoey inched off the mattress and stood, holding the IV post. She waited for her lightheadedness to pass and her legs to stop trembling. Her gown stuck to her back in a paste of sweat, and she pulled the material from her skin before stepping carefully toward the bathroom.

       Woman in the water.

      “What?” Zoey turned and faced Dr. Selden, who was engrossed in his clipboard writings.

      He lifted his head and raised one eyebrow.

      “Did you say something about water?”

      “I haven’t said anything. What did you hear?”

      “Nothing.” Of course, nothing. She took a step and froze. She’d slept fifteen hours without a nightmare. Was this it, she wondered, when Milo slipped into the recesses of her mind, forcing her to forget? Fear knotted in her chest. She would not forget.

      She shuffled to and from the restroom without complications and crawled into bed, wincing when she twisted her bad shoulder.

      Dr. Selden leaped forward, prepared for an emergency.

      “I’m fine, really.” She clamped the covers under her armpits, closed her eyes and willed the spasms gone.

      “On a scale of one to ten, one being average and ten excruciating, how bad is the pain?” he asked.

      She smiled, thinking if he knew the extent of her internal wreckage he’d realize her wounds were permanent and he’d send her home. “Eight.” She turned her head toward him and stared at his squinting face. “I could use another pain pill.”

      “Sure.” He wrote again, his pen and pad seeming like an extra set of appendages. “The nurse will bring more meds in a few minutes. What about your throat?”

      “What about it?”

      “Does it still hurt?”

      “A little, but nothing I can’t live with. La-la-la-la-la!”

      “Very good,” he said.

       Woman in the water.

      “What did you say?”

      Dr. Selden offered a bewildered expression.

      “You didn’t just mutter something about water?”

      He shook his head.

      “I distinctly heard someone say something about water.”

      “Interesting.” He paused. “Perhaps you overheard a conversation while you were asleep, and your memory is releasing it now. A type of dream echo.”

      “There was a discussion about water here in my room?”

      “Not necessarily. You’ll read about the death in the paper, so I’ll go ahead and tell you. I was checking your pulse and Dr. Hicks came by to inform me we’d lost a patient. A teenage boy who’d broke his neck in the river that runs behind your house. I’m sure one of us mentioned water during the discussion.”

      “What was the boy doing in the river?”

      “Rafting. Rafts and kayaks navigate that river all summer long. I’ve kayaked Coldstone many times myself. Hell of a ride. Fifteen-foot drops and sharp

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