Making Fantasia (Prequel): Social Christmasing

Chapter 9: No Hospital Visitors

Chapter 9: No Hospital Visitors

Jim had to leave the Benbow. 

Had he waited a second longer, the TIVID test would have been smashed to smithereens.

Jim stormed into the garage. He grabbed a wrench and threw it at the motion sensor. The motion sensor shattered, deactivating the lights and bathing the garage in the winter sunset. 

Wendy's sparkly gift bag caught Jim's eye, triggering a wave of guilt. He seized the bag and threw it against the wall. As it gently rebounded, Jim slumped to the floor, head in his hands.

He didn't care if he had the Tiara Virus. The outcome was irrelevant. Wendy would still be in the hospital, and if she died, all she would remember was their fight.

Jim burrowed into his knuckles. Desperate to feel close to Wendy, he reached for the gift bag and rummaged through the tissue paper for his birthday present.

Wendy had sewn him a face mask. But not just any face mask. The fabric was printed with the lower half of Darth Vader's helmet. It was a nod to Jim's Star Wars obsession, but also a tribute to their Star Wars movie marathon last Christmas.

It was so cool. Jim would have worn the mask even without the pandemic.

A note was attached. Squinting in the fading sunlight, Jim read Wendy's petite, pearly script:

Dear Jim – Happy Birthday! I know you probably think masks are silly, but I'm fairly certain I can trick you into wearing this one! Happy Birthday and May the Force Be With You! Love, Wendy.

Jim bowed his head, grateful (for a different reason) that the mask covered his face. 

Wendy's birthday gift was wonderful. But Jim knew what he really wanted for Christmas

"Jim...sweetheart."

Sarah peered into the garage. It seemed an eternity had passed, but the sun had barely set. Crouching before her son, Sarah relayed Dr. Sweet's information. 

"Jim, you don't have the virus. You tested negative. That means Wendy didn't get the virus from you."

Jim raised his head. "She didn't?"

"No. She got it...from someone else." Tentatively, Sarah lifted a hand. She brushed Jim's bangs, gingerly as if she were brushing a snake. "Everything is alright."

Jim jerked away.

"No it's not." he said, donning the Darth Vader mask and heading for the door. "I'm going to the hospital."

Sarah rapidly intervened. "Jim, no. You stay put mister! I think it's very sweet that you want to see Wendy, but the hospital is the riskiest place to be right now. There are dozens of TIVID cases, I don't want you exposed. Besides – "

Sarah steered Jim to the Benbow. "They aren't allowing visitors in the hospital! I'm sorry Jim. That's just the way it has to be this Christmas."

Jim took Sarah's sentiment and stuck it up Santa's proverbial chimney. 

After a highly theatrical display, Jim stomped to his bedroom, snuck back into the garage, stowed his secret project in a backpack, and ran away to the hospital.

Of course Sarah knew exactly what he was doing. But after their initial dispute, she let him go. Allowing Jim to sneak illegally into the hospital to see his best friend was her way of saying Merry Christmas (before grounding him on the New Year).

Besides, Sarah doubted he'd get far.

And she was correct. The hospital FIMRLY declined his admittance.  All visitations were prohibited as a means of infection control. No visitors were allowed in the hospital, even family.

Naturally Jim argued. 

Eventually, he was confronted by an  overly sassy nurse that told him only patients could be admitted to the hospital (and if he didn't stop bothering her, she would personally make that happen)!

"Over my dead body..." Jim muttered, scanning the hospital walls. "Over my...dead...body..."

Jim suddenly had an idea. It was insane but it might actually work.

Jim turned in a circle. He gripped his fists and bounced on the balls of his feet. Squaring to the hospital, he nodded, decision made.

"Hold tight Wen. Here I come." 

He bolted for the hospital doors. Stomach writhing with what he was about to do, he closed his eyes,  and ran straight at the entrance. Instead of veering away, Jim gained speed, bowed his head, and headbutted the doors.

Wack. He saw sparks. He saw blood...

He woke up several painful moments later.

The collision had the desired effect – it split his skull. 

"Shit..."

Blood sticking to his eyelids, Jim searched the clinicians above him. Instructions were flying from mouth to mouth, with the predominant phrase being "He needs stitches!"

Probing the gash on his forehead, Jim smiled at the overly sassy nurse. "Think I better be admitted."

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sultal's note:

(1) I can't take credit for this scene - this  is credited to Cobra Kai where Johnny Lawrence headbutts a bathroom napkin dispenser to admit himself to the hospital. HILARIOUS and DEF something that Jim would do. It was too perfect not to plagiarize. 

(2) LAST CHAPTER WILL BE POSTED ON JANUARY 11!

keep writing -