At the Scent of Water Read Online Free Page B

weight was down, he noted, even without reading the chart. He wondered if the doctor in charge would increase the calorie count of the tube feedings. Her breathing was rough. He could hear it even without a stethoscope. Her face was pale and gaunt.
    He came closer and forced himself to pick up the hand that lay contracted on the bedspread. He held it loosely in his own.
    “Good evening, Kelly, it’s Sam,” he said, sensing about as much response as he did when he prayed. He never said Dr. Truelove. Out of shame, he supposed. “I know it’s been a while, but I just wanted to see how you’re doing,” he continued. “I hope you’re not in too much discomfort.” The words cut as they left his mouth. What a vile, cowardly thing to say. I hope you’re not in too much discomfort. Why, he ought to say the truth. Kelly, I’m sorry. Kelly, if I could trade places, I would do so gladly. Kelly, forgive me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
    He said none of these things, of course. For whose benefit would he say them? Certainly not Kelly’s. Certainly not for her family, who crouched like sin at the door, ready to seize him by the throat when Kelly’s short life ended. “They’re waiting,” his attorney had said. “They’re poor, but obviously not stupid. They know they’ll get more for her death than for her disability.”
    He would have gladly given them all he had, but that would not even be allowed as a penance. His malpractice insurance would cut them a check.
    “It’s Monday today, Kelly,” he continued. “Monday, June second. It was warm and sunny this morning. About like you’d expect for Tennessee this time of year. It clouded up a little this afternoon, but there was no rain. Now it’s clear and cool outside. The wild strawberries are blooming up in the mountains.”
    He felt suddenly cruel as those words left his mouth. Why had he reminded her of joys she would never experience again? And he felt guilty himself for even enjoying the thought of them.
    There was a shuffle at the door, and Sam stiffened. He had only crossed paths with the family once, and that had been early on. It had been the grandmother, who had, thankfully, not recognized him. She had thought he was one of Kelly’s doctors, which, in a sense, he supposed he was. This time it was the physical therapy aide, or so her nametag said.
    “I can come back,” she volunteered.
    “No. That’s all right,” he told her, anxious to have a reason to leave. “Good-bye, Kelly.” He aimed his words at the still, pale face. He could see the blue web of veins on her eyelids. She breathed in. Out. No movement. No sign at all that she had heard him. He turned and left, and the feeling that overshadowed all others was weariness.
    He walked out into the parking lot, glad to leave the heavy reeking air behind him. The cool night air felt good against his hot face. The crickets and tree frogs rang shrilly from the fields next to the building. He stood beside a spindly ash tree and rested his hand on the bark, happy to have something real and alive to touch. He had a sense that both of the situations that had overshadowed his life for so long were drawing to a close. The realization had a hollow, bitter finality.
    Kelly Bright had lasted longer than anyone had thought, and though it was possible that someone in a deep coma could live many years, he didn’t think she would do so. It wouldn’t be long now. Days, perhaps. Weeks. Months at the most. He could tell somehow just from looking at her, from the ragged sound of her breathing, the moist pallor of her skin. And the other? Well, he had a feeling that the other had died long ago and he had just never allowed the burial to take place. In fact, he knew the exact day his marriage had received its mortal wound. He could document it by the date in Kelly Bright’s chart, for both had been collateral damage from another blow that still drained him white, left him speechless with pain.
    ****
    He dreamed the