Sinking through the Depths (Part II)

This is Part II of “Sinking through the Depths”. If you haven’t already, you can read Part I here.

“Of course you can. And you will. We’re gonna…”

“I remember you wanted to sleep there that night. At Ronny’s. Right?” He looked down and nodded. “And I didn’t want to. You almost fell down the stairs when we left and I laughed and got in the car. What happened after? When was that? Did you…are you hurt?”

“A few weeks ago. No point in the details. I was fuckin hammered and…well…” he couldn’t get himself to look up to meet her intent gaze. “I fuckin wish I was in that bed instead of you.”

She cried, but the tears were for him, not herself. For a brief moment she understood the depth of the guilt he harbored, and she meant it when she said, “I’m glad it was me. Kiss me?” He leaned down and kissed her deeply, the same as he always did, and that familiar horniness welled up inside him, although it would have to go unsatisfied.

The kiss breathed some life into her. “I guess you’re not fucking me anytime soon huh?” with a hint of a smile.

Surprised at her changed demeanor, “Your mouth still works doesn’t it? Sarah the Sinner?” as he dragged his pointer finger seductively across her lips which immediately broke into a full smile.

“I love you, scumbag,” she laughed and he joined her for his first laugh since he could remember. Maybe things would actually work out in spite of his doubts. “Jesus you need to shave. And wash that greasy hair Jesus Christ you look like shit. Get some rest, scumbag.”

As they drifted off to sleep it started to rain heavily, distant thunder rumbling and echoing quietly through the hospital like a madman murmuring under his breath, finding humor in his victims’ helplessness. The hospital lights visible from their room shut off one after the other, and save for the nurses stuck with the night shift, everyone lay silent in their drug-induced comas, alive but seemingly lifeless.

Wanting some pleasant dreams for once, he decided to focus on the happiest memories they had together. A Costa Rican beach on the Pacific coast, just the two of them relaxing in the sun, no sounds aside from the surf, the ocean breeze through the leaves of the jungle, and the occasional argument amongst the monkeys. One of them, realizing the humans were asleep, mustered the courage to look through their belongings. It found a brass watch and quickly snatched it, but not before Kyle woke and grabbed the monkey’s tail. It kept its grip on the watch and punched Kyle in the forehead, causing him to release the tail, and the little thief escaped into the nearest palm. Sarah laughed harder than she’d ever laughed in her life, and realizing the ridiculousness of the situation, Kyle was able to laugh at himself, and again later that day when he saw the imprint of the little monkey fist on his forehead in the bathroom mirror when they returned to the bed and breakfast.

Their first anniversary dinner five years prior, a nice vodka buzz coursing through them, the soft lighting of the seafood restaurant touching her face, giving it shadows in all the right places. How curious that some seemingly insignificant moments stay with one forever.

Their first night together. She wanted him so badly but was trembling with nervousness, shaking like a leaf and trying to hide it. He noticed but said nothing of it, instead taking her to heights of physical pleasure she’d never experienced in her nineteen years, heights which she didn’t know it was possible for a human body to experience.

The day they met in the coffee shop. She spilled half her coffee in her lap and involuntarily yelled “Fuckin fuck!” and when she turned around, embarrassed, there he was, laughing at her, but with a pile of napkins in his hand. Her coffee shop hero.

They both lay asleep, she in her casts, he in the chair which had become his unwilling home, and together they dreamed.

He awoke to her snore early the next morning, a labored snore reminiscent of an old car trying to turn over on a cold winter morning. The rain had subsided, the first of the day’s rays of sunlight cast in a thousand directions through the night’s raindrops still clinging to the window. The same nurse was there writing on her clipboard, looking at the complex machine in whose purpose Kyle had no interest, back to the clipboard, back to the machine. Her red scrubs made her seem inappropriately happy even with the stern look she wore.

“Any news?” he asked. “By the way, I was an asshole last night. I just…”

“Don’t be sorry. Nothing new to report, just monitoring her levels. How’d you sleep?”

“Alright.” As the word left his lips the dream came back to him. The two of them flying over the ocean following the dolphins below. He could feel the sun on his back, but that warmth paled in comparison to the warmth of love he felt from Sarah, who was enveloped in a bright gold, sparkling aura, reflecting off of the water’s surface. Not only was she fully physically able, but they were flying, completely free from the laws of Earth. The scene itself was beautiful, but what struck him deeply was the incredible feeling of bliss. Just remembering the dream brightened his mood, and right on cue, Sarah groaned herself awake.

“Kyle?”

“Morning, Sunshine,” with a smile.

“I want you to take me on the boat. I wanna feel the wind and smell the salt. I’ve had enough of this piece of shit hospital.” It would have been promising to hear her speak those words if it weren’t for the subtle, menacing undertone with which she spoke them.

“We can do whatever you want babe,” he responded, unable to hide his worry. “As soon as the doc says you can go home, we’ll go for a ride. Promise.”

“Good.”

You can continue to Part III by clicking here.