Shared Empathy – Chapter Nine

AN: I am still alive.


By the fifth interview, the high energies she had on the first one were mitigating. On the first one, she was happy to get out, dress up, and do something out of the routine. She could easily ignore the harsh questions – What have you been up to all this time? What are you doing these days? The looks; a mix of disgust and pity, the undeniable pain of rejection. She could say it is only the first time. Now, however, after walking out of the office, which she was sure she was never gonna step foot in again, the comments, the queries, and the facial expressions were all weighing down on her. She took the subway to the coffee shop and began her shift with the same heavy heart. The only difference now was that she looked forward to seeing Ivana. She liked talking to her during the shifts. Ivana was quite mature than her age and shared her artistic sense. She took some time to open up, but after some time had passed, she told her that she ran away from her foster parents and lived in a homeless shelter. She didn’t want to go back to them or the system so she wasn’t going to school as well. Ivana never talked about her parents and family and Nola never pushed her, but she did feel a bond with this girl, perhaps because of their shared experiences with loss and loneliness. It became easier for her to talk about her own life, why being a barista seemed easier and felt like hell at the same time. She did want her to go to school and live like a normal teenager, so she encouraged her to read and offered to help in any way. Ivana also felt easy around her, she was less guarded, and once in a while, she would laugh without any care.

 

Ivana hadn’t come in yet, if she remembered correctly, they had the same timings. She left her a text asking about her but didn’t get a reply. When she didn’t come in the next day either, she called. Despite her saying that she was okay, she couldn’t help but make sure. Thank God she had asked her where she lived and Thank God she had trusted her enough to tell her. In the afternoon, afterwards her shift, she finally went to the Bernard homeless shelter and upon asking several people she found Ivana lying in an old, dreary bed, visible bruises on the forehead.

“What happened to you?”, she announced herself and startled the girl.

Ivana got up quickly and winced in pain. “What? What are you doing here?”

“I had a feeling something was wrong. What happened?”, she stroked her head with a motherly affection which she didn’t know she had and examined the bruises. Most of them were superficial.

“Got beat up”, she replied in a low voice and tried to get away from her. Nola kept looking at her, refusing to just settle for that answer.

“When I was coming back on Thursday night, I got beat up ok!”, Ivana spat out the words. She was irritated and wore an expression that said I don’t want to talk about it. Nola wanted to ask more… who were these guys, was she hurt more but she found it best not to ask and focused on her face. There was an angry bruise on Ivana’s right temple and multiple abrasions on the left side of her face. She was also clutching her left arm.

“Let me see”, she stepped closer, but didn’t touch her yet. Ivana looked towards her, she had seen fear in those eyes, insecurity too but it seemed like anger was masking everything. Or was it just pain?

“Ok. At least tell me how bad it is?”

“It’s fine. I wrapped it up, it’d be fine”, she replied, looking in the opposite direction from her.

She sat beside her on the bed and took in the surroundings. It was a big hall separated by curtains which was merely a separation considering the ragged condition. Ivana’s space included a worn out bed and a plastic table on its side. Beside was a bag which she assumed had Ivana’s things in it. The one pair of shoes which she always wore was set aside. She took a deep breath and looked at her friend, who was looking at her lap. She saw the Ivana she saw the first day she came into the coffee shop. At that moment, she felt like they didn’t know each other for four months. She took in a deep breath and decided to give it another shot.

“Did they hit you?”

“Yeah”

“Because you were alone on a deserted street, easy target?”

“Yes, apparently they thought they’d get something from me. Do I look like I have money! Stupid”, she tittered.

Nola smiled. “Yeah, stupid people, they don’t even know who to rob. That’s like the first step, to find the right target?”, She put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder, relieved that she wasn’t turned away.

“They didn’t hurt you, right?”, she dared to ask.

After a few seconds, which felt like an eternity to Nola, she looked towards her and shook her head. “He tried to grab my bag. When I resisted, he punched me and I fell. That’s when I got this cut, there was something sharp on wall… I didn’t look. A patrol car came by, he panicked and ran. I ran as well, didn’t want the police to see me.”

“You should have called me sooner”

I didn’t.. I didn’t know that I could… I…”

“You could… You can!”, she nodded her head to make sure she understood.

Now that she was comparatively at ease, she asked again, “Now, can I see that?”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital”

“Let me see and then we’ll decide ok”, she lifted up the sleeve of her jumper and rolled off the cloth. There was an open cut in the middle of her forearm.

“This is bad, you need to get it stitched”, she said furrowing her brows in concern.

“No hospitals, they ask for records, they’ll call social security”, Ivana got anxious.

“I’ll tell them you are my friend, it would be on my record. No one would know”

“I really don’t want to go”, she pleaded.

Nola could see the panic starting to appear in Ivana’s eyes. “Okay, okay, relax. Um…”, she thought about it for a second. “How about if I call Alan. I’m pretty sure he can stitch that up for you. I mean he is a surgeon, of course, he can for heaven’s sake! Is that ok? You won’t have to go anywhere?”

“Yes… I guess”, Ivana agreed and before she could overthink Nola said, “Ok I’ll call him!”

She called Alan and told him everything about the mugging. Alan being Alan, said he would come right away. She took Ivana to her apartment so that they could all be comfortable and have some privacy as well. Ivana agreed with going because as much as she didn’t want to confess she needed a quiet place and she was in pain. She had started to trust Nola, she and Alan both were good to her. She hadn’t let her guard down a hundred percent but it was easy to talk to them, she didn’t have to give an explanation for everything and they knew when to back off.

 

They reached first and Nola let them in. Ivana took a seat on the bed. Nola poured a drink for her. Alan arrived a few minutes later with his medical bag. He waved at Nola and sat beside Ivana. “Hey kid, how are you? Let me see what you got there”, he said, extending a hand towards her bad arm. She unwrapped the cloth and let him examine the wound. As Nola had anticipated, it needed a few stitches. Alan got to work while Nola engaged Ivana in showing her paintings, some of which were hung on the wall beside the bed and some were on the floor. After the arm, he tended to the bruise on her temple and gave her a supply of pain meds and antibiotics.

Alan went back to the hospital and they ordered pizza. It was the first time a girlfriend was over at Nola’s place. She had friends in college but none of them stuck or more like she grew out of them. Initially to avoid their sympathy and eventually to avoid their questions and the feeling of being a misfit.

 

“So… how’s that arm now?”, she pointed her eyes towards the arm and picked up an olive from her piece.

“It is fine. Alan is good, I didn’t feel a thing”, she replied munching on her’s.

Nola laughed, “That’s coz he gave you local anesthesia kid, and well yeah, he is kinda awesome”

“I know that”, she chuckled, “but I mean I didn’t even feel the prick of the needle, he is that good”

“Or maybe you have a high pain threshold”

“Who Knows?”

“He offered that we stay at his place until you are better. We certainly don’t want you to go back to that place and my place is… well you can see there isn’t much space”, she sheepishly gestured towards her room.

“Oh no, no, I’ve taken enough help from you guys”, she shook her head.

“Please, just until you feel better”

“No…”

“But you’ll need rest and care. Ok, just until your arm is healed, please?”

“How much chance do I have of getting out of this?”

Nola looked up like she was thinking and said, ” With me, there is like a 70:30 chance but if I bring Alan then you have none. Because he has great persuasive powers”

“One week!”, Ivana gave in.

“Yay!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Shared Empathy – Chapter Eight

He was fairly anxious before entering the O.R. The scrubbing brushed off some of the nerves, with it came the realization that he missed it and was surprised by the automatic curt nod upon Dr. Sullivan’s welcome. It was natural, professional like he hadn’t been away from surgery for five years. After that, there was a mask to hide the face and besides no one was actually looking. Relieved to know all the steps to the procedure there were a few moments where it felt like all he needed to do was pick up the scalpel and everything would be normal again.

It was until he walked out of the O.R, that the gloom began to set in the pit of his stomach and the relief was replaced by doubt again. By the time he came home, he was sure that this is the farthest he should go and if he actually picked up the scalpel again something would go wrong. He would forget a step or his hands wouldn’t be steady enough. A part of him knew this was just doubt speaking and another part knew he was losing the battle. Take the plunge, move to the other side, jump off; all those metaphors kept making appearances as well.  But that was the thing; despite knowing everything, here he was still standing at the same point.

Alan spent the rest of the day doing nothing. Nola came by to cheer, during which time he deliberately kept steering the conversation towards something other than the supposed small victory. He didn’t want the attention and the praise because he still felt the same – like the day before today. Except for the few moments in the O.R where the past seemed irrelevant. She also announced that she finally got an interview call and would be going for it in the following week, which he was happy to know and hoped that they both had something good waiting for them.

When she left, Alan dug up his refrigerator and started making a stir fry of everything that was available, even though he just had dinner. This is what he did when he needed a distraction. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board, slight hum of the burner, and the sizzling somehow kept the storm in his mind locked away. He wanted to tire out and go straight to sleep. So, when done with the stir fry, he started making a cake because that took time. By the time the cake was rising in the oven, all the drawers were rearranged and all the shelves clean and shining.

There was a reason the freezer was always full. The stir fry dish was now packed away into small containers ready to go in the freezer, the cake waiting on the cooling stand. After looking at it for several minutes, contemplating what to do with it, he thought; I’ll take it to my AA meeting tomorrow.

When he finally hit the bed, the storm was a mishmash of anxious thoughts swimming in his head, but the body was tired enough not to catch up with them. It was a dreamless night but upon opening eyes to the bright morning sun, a single thought hit him. He wanted to go back to the O.R. He didn’t want to be standing at the same point anymore.