Save the Last Bullet for God Read Online Free

another
patient sat following my movements. I approached the patient who
was staring at me, and I tried to ask a few questions, but her
answers were indecipherable.
    I went and stood by the window and watched
the sun go down over the garden while I traced my fingers in the
dust on the window ledge. No longer willing to wait, I turned back
and left the room as if I had important things to do. I opened the
door to Room 17 without any hesitation and went inside, trying my
best not to look at the bed by the window. I instead approached the
beds that were closer to the door, like a child saving his dessert
for last. Lingering as long as I could, I finally came to her bed,
but I saw that it was empty. I rapidly scanned the room around me.
She wasn’t there. Her bed was well made and looked like it hadn’t
been used for a long while. In fact, there was no trace of her at
all. I panicked at the idea that she had been discharged, and
thinking the worst, I headed to the door in desperation, fearful of
the imminent emptiness of my life.
    Hurrying out of the room, I collided with
Maria and all of the breath inside me drained out. My heartbeat
echoed through my dizziness. She was okay and much more composed
than I.The collision brought us inches apart, and I noticed the
simplicity of her perfect face: her pert nose, full lips, and her
dancing blue eyes. I felt as if I was falling through space.
    I stumbled back half a step, and in my
clumsiness, blocked the door. Our eyes locked for a long moment,
and then she made her way around me, stepping aside with her eyes
on the floor. Although I didn’t want to go, I was unable to do
anything but leave. The door closed and I went away, carrying her
pleasant scent with me.
    I desperately wanted to go back in to see
her, but I forced myself to go to the garden for some fresh air. As
I sat in the darkness on the bench near the edge of the road, I
thought about those disgusting relationships between doctors and
their patients and made myself remember that I wasn’t even a
doctor. As I ruminated, I dug angrily at the ground with the toes
of my shoes until the smell of tobacco shook me out of my
reverie.
     
    “Are you okay?” a voice said.
    I immediately recognized the voice, but all I
could see was a single bright ember moving toward me in the
darkness. It was Eldwin Meyer, a skinny decrepit caregiver still
allowed to work despite his old age. It was said that the hospital
had been built around him. The old caregiver had thin white hair
and pale blue eyes that gave him a furtive but intelligent look.
There was talk of Eldwin sampling the patients’ medicine, but he
ignored the gossip and never shirked his duties.
    “How are you doing, Eldwin?” I asked.
    “Fine, but you look depressed, young
man.”
    “No…,” I said weakly before Eldwin sat down
next to me. “Just fatigue.”
    “If you’re tired, then we should all die.” He
scoffed before flicking his cigarette into the grass.
    I had no response.
    Eldwin watched me for a moment and then he
smirked.
    “Have you seen the Croatian girl?” he
asked.
    “Which one?” I asked, playing as dumb as I
could.
    “Come on, if I notice her at this age, you
surely know about her. The quiet girl in Room 17.”
    “Oh . . . ,” I lied, “I guess I saw her last
night. . . . Who is her doctor?”
    “Dr. Hubert.”
    “Egbert Hubert?” A stupid question. There was
only one Dr. Hubert.
    “She’s been here for two or three days, but
he’s already had two sessions with her while other patients are
unable to get one session with him in a month. Her father is an
important figure, I suppose. It must be the reason for all the care
and interest.”
    My ears reddened and my stomach ached, but I
went on acting naturally and pretending not to care. “She seems
young and healthy. What does she have that made her come here?” I
asked.
    “Apparently, she’s here after a few
unsuccessful attempts at treatment,” the old caregiver
murmured.
    I nodded