Tamara was coming behind me, using my path to ease the travel through the snow. Smart girl. By the time we got to the cliff, the sound was steady, though I couldn’t see the copter. The sound was echoing from different directions, reverberating off the mountains.
Reaching the tree, I dug down its trunk to find the wire. It took a few seconds to pull the shirt free from the snow. The wind had blown it up, onto the cliff, and buried it. I shook it off and tossed it over the edge. It wasn’t heavy enough to break through the snow and drop fully visible below the tree branches. I could hear warning words from Tamara as I maneuvered to the other side of the tree, hanging onto the trunk with one hand and using the other to break down the snow.
I could feel the cold weakening my fingers, but the engine sound made me continue. I began using my foot to extend my reach, pushing more snow over the cliff to set our flag. I smiled as the snow began to move en masse. I cringed when I began to go with it. A desperate grab to support my frozen fingers with my other hand failed. Tamara screamed. I went over the edge.
My mind had already settled on death. This new form was met with equal resolution. My last thought was not wanting to leave Tamara alone. I spread myself out and screamed, “See me!”
My thigh shattered in a field of green. Spinning. The left side of my head exploded into white light. Darkness followed.
++++++++++++++++++++++
My eyes wouldn’t open. I struggled, but only a crack would form, and I saw nothing but whiteness behind a curtain of lashes. Snow. I remembered the snow. I was dying in the snow. I wasn’t cold. It was just like falling asleep. I smiled inside, knowing my lips couldn’t copy it. Just like falling asleep.
“Mr. Bennett.” The voice was insistent and completely out of place. I felt something warm in my right hand. Nothing should be warm. I smiled. My blood would be warm.
“Mr. Bennett.” It was a female voice. Not Tamara. Where was Tamara? I forced my eyes open, and light ripped into my skull. I closed them again and tried to move my left hand to cover them. My hand wouldn’t move.
“Slowly, Mr. Bennett.” The voice said. A warm hand covered my eyes so I could blink them open. A white room, warm and no snow. My head felt like it was swimming in grease. Thoughts were slow to come. The hand was removed, and a woman wearing a white lab coat with short cropped red hair smiled at me. Doctor? I drooled at her. A hand, from the other side of the bed, wiped my chin with a wet cloth. I turned my head, a young man in blue smocks stared back. Orderly? Nurse?
“Do you know where you are?” The doctor asked. I tried to answer, but my lips hadn’t decided to cooperate yet. I nodded slightly, more sunk my chin than nodded. I was in a hospital. American doctor. Where was Tamara?
The doctor smiled at my movement. “Rick is going to give you some water to take care of the dryness in your throat.” A straw was inserted between my lips and water was squirted in. Funny, I remembered doing that for Tamara. It felt wonderful in my mouth, so cool. I swallowed hard, letting it coat the back of my throat. I followed with a cough that broke phlegm I didn’t know was stuck there. Rick added more water, and I swallowed easier. My lips were becoming my own again.
“Where’s Tamara?” I asked weakly. It didn’t sound like my voice. I wasn’t sure if what I thought I said was coming out of my mouth. I coughed again to loosen things up.
“Slowly, Mr. Bennett,” the doctor repeated.
“Tamara. Where is Tamara?” I said clearly. I heard the words that time. The doctor smiled as if I was child asking why the sky was blue.
“I don’t know a Tamara,” she answered, “is that a family member?” I tried to move my left hand again. There was resistance. I could lift my right. I looked down my body. Both legs were encased in metal cages that circled my legs with stainless steel spokes entering my skin holding it in place. My left arm was secured in a cast that ran from my wrist to past the elbow and halfway up my bicep.
“Crashed with me,” I replied, “a woman with black hair. Thirtyish.” My mind was quickening. I turned to the orderly to see if he knew.
“It’s good that you remember the plane crash,” the doctor continued,”we were worried you might suffer some memory loss.” I felt anger surge. I don’t know where it came from, but it dwarfed everything else.
“Where the fuck is Tamara?” I growled. I shifted. It was a stupid attempt to sit up and look more forceful. Pain shot up my side, and I quickly became aware of the rest of my body. It didn’t feel good.
“I don’t know a Tamara,” the doctor continued, obviously quite skilled at irate patients, “but I will find out what I can.” I settled back into the bed. It was the best I could hope for since I couldn’t get up and walk out.
“How bad?” I asked, sending my eyes down to my legs.
“Both your legs experienced multiple fractures, ” the doctor stated without reservation. I didn’t want the glossed over version anyway. “We have reset the bones and inserted pins to guarantee it heals correctly. We expect you to regain full mobility in time.”
“My arm?” I tried to lift my right arm to point to the left and stopped when I saw the IV needle.
“You fractured the radius and ulna and chipped the humerus at the elbow. Your arm will heal faster than your legs.” The doctor stalled for a moment, “It was the head injury that concerned us the most. The swelling in your brain was very difficult to manage. By your questions, I assume there is little lasting damage. Though rehab will verify it over time.”
“I looked like Channing Tatum before the crash,” I joked. A wave of well-being came over me and washed the anger away. My mind was moving through emotions like a rollercoaster.
“The damage was more extensive than we thought,” the doctor chuckled, “I’m glad you still have your humor though mood swings are to be expected as the drugs wear off.” She looked at me, letting the humor fade away. “The swelling in your brain forced us to keep you in a medically induced coma for 57 days.” Realization kicked in.
“Where am I? I mean, what city?” I asked quickly.
“You’re at Chicago Memorial Hospital, Mr. Bennett,” the doctor replied, “I’m your main physician, Doctor Mary Tristin.” Chicago? Where the hell is Tamara? 57 days? Did they find her?
“Are my parents here?” I asked quickly, “I have to tell them about Tamara.”
“They are outside waiting for word from me,” Mary said, “do you think you are you ready for visitors?” She asked like I had a choice.
“Send them in, damn it!” I settled the tension and lowered my voice, “please.” Damn drugs.
My mother was in tears. I didn’t have time for tears. After quickly consoling her, I turned to my dad. “There was a woman who survived the crash with me on the mountain,” I said, “what happened to her?”
“I think you should take it easy, son,” my dad replied, trying to calm me, “let the accident be for now and we’ll talk about later when you’re feeling better.” 57 days, we’ll talk about it now.
“Damn it, quit coddling me,” I chastised, “what the hell happened to her?”
“Okay, okay,” my dad said, holding up his hands, “An Armenian woman was rescued with you, one of three including you that survived the crash. An old man survived as well and walked for several days. He is the one who sent help.” He must have landed below the cliff, in the valley.
“What happened to Tamara, the woman?” I demanded.
“I suppose she went home,” my mother said, her eyes glancing between my father and I. I didn’t like the look. I remembered it from my childhood when I crashed my mini bike, and they were trying to explain why it wasn’t in the garage anymore. I looked to my dad.
“Where is she?” I said leaving no room for lies.
“Son, I know things must have looked pretty grim…” I interrupted.
“Damn it! What the fuck did you do?” I could smell the parental interference. The room stunk with it, and the drugs enhanced it.
“She didn’t even speak English, honey,” my mother chimed in, “she claimed things…”
“I tried to give her some money,” my father added. Oh God! That was the worst thing they could have done.
“I love her, you idiots!” I shouted, “I intend to spend the rest of my life with her.” I heard a gasp at the door. Kimberly stood there, hand over her mouth, watery eyes. Fuck me.
“It’s just the drugs,” my mother declared, looking between Kimberly and me. There was silence for a moment as Kimberly, and I studied each other. I needed her alone.
“Please leave,” I sighed, looking at my mom. Kimberly knew I didn’t mean her. My dad had to escort my mother out. She was not taking the revelation very well. “I…” Kimberly interrupted by kissing my forehead. That is wasn’t my lips, was telling.
“I wasn’t going to tell you that way,” I admitted.
“I know,” Kimberly smiled. Her leaky eyes didn’t match the smile, “I’m still glad you didn’t die.”
“I thought I had.”
“They say you jumped off a cliff.”
“Fell, more like it,” I said, “trying to get the helicopter to see us.” Kimberly studied me for a moment, her smile fading as she thought.
“Do you love her all the time?” Kimberly asked quietly. She knew it too. We weren’t fully compatible, just used to each other. I nodded, unable to answer with words. I had no idea, how do you talk with my last love about my true love.
“I would have made a crappy nurse,” Kimberly chuckled weakly. Her eyes defied the humor.
“We would have hated each other,” I added. Kimberly nodded. There was no way we would have survived me being bedridden. She sat on the bed and took my hand in hers. I welcomed her friendship.
“I’m still sad about it,” Kimberly continued, “parts of us were so good.” I smiled remembering her beneath me in bed. She slapped my hand. “Not just those parts.” We laughed with each other, mostly because she knew where my mind went. At least we now had real honesty.
“I need to find her,” I said, “my parents may have screwed it up pretty bad.”