Bring Glory(Us) Life

Chapter 19- Together...

        It was a rare, clear evening, the black sky pierced by pin points of silver. The moon cast lustrous light on the snow, which glowed as bright as day, blanketing the city in resplendence. Inside it was warm, the air thick with the smell of a gas furnace, hot chocolate and warm wool. Kilay and Lachlan sat together on the couch, bodies pressed tight, beneath a dense wool blanket. Lachlan held a book in his hands, reading aloud to his friend. She rested her head wearily on his shoulder, eyes closed, listening intently.

            “Awaking in the middle of a prodigiously tough snore, and sitting up in bed to get his thoughts together, Scrooge had no occasion to be told that the bell was again upon the stroke of one. He felt that he was restored to consciousness in the right nick of time, for the especial purpose of holding a conference with the second messenger dispatched to him through Jacob Marley's intervention—” Lachlan read, taking a pause to sip from his steaming mug. He set it down on the table, where his peace lily was thriving under his watchful care. The white blossoms shone in the artificial light, as if many tiny stars had taken rest in its petals. Kilay slitted her eyes, blinking at the plant.

            “You still have that,” she said, shivering against Lachlan’s side. He pulled the blanket back up her shoulders, glancing at the flower.

            “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? It is my most precious possession,” he said. Kilay smiled softly.

            “It looks very happy. I’m glad you’re taking such good care of it.” Lachlan laughed. He still wasn’t used to being able to do that; laughter had been foreign to him for so long. But now, he relished in every moment when he was able to cut loose and be free, let his feelings show.

            “It’s not like it’s a difficult plant to care for,” he said, closing the book with one finger marking the page to gaze at the delicate blooms. They reminded him of Kilay: pale, beautiful, fragile. Kilay turned so her back was to his side, head tipped back to look at the ceiling.

            “Lachlan...?”

            “Yeah?”

            “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, understand? Every moment spent with you was worth all the years of pain I endured. I’ll always appreciate that. You mean the world to me.” Lachlan bent his head to kiss the top of hers, smelling the sharp scent of hospital antiseptics and chemicals in her hair.

            “I love you too. Now stop talking like that, you’re making me blush. Alright, where were we...” he said, flipping to the right page. He scanned the words, blurring before him, and cleared his throat.

            “Right, here we are. ‘He felt that he was restored to consciousness in the right nick of time, for the especial purpose of holding a conference with the second messenger dispatched to him through Jacob Marley's intervention...’” Kilay licked her dry, cracked lips, tasting blood in her mouth, sharp and metallic. She took a deep breath, fighting the heavy weight crushing her chest.

        “Thank you...” she whispered, very softly, a barely audible noise. Lachlan blinked rapidly, trying to make out the words, but they ran together into black lines, like wet, dripping ink. He swallowed, taking a shaky breath.

        “Kilay? Kilay, are you ok?” He looked down, taking in her shallow breathing, the deathly white of her skin, veins standing out starkly. With trembling hands, he shook her.

        “Kilay, wake up, you’re ok, right? Kilay, please, don’t leave me,” he said. She didn’t respond. Ramming his feet into shoes, he gathered Kilay up in the blanket and hurried out the door, heading toward the hospital just down the street. Around him, gentle snowflakes fluttered from the sky, knocked off roofs by a stiff breeze, sticking wetly to his cheeks.

        Nurses swept Kilay away from Lachlan, leaving him alone in the waiting room to explain what was going on. He tried to follow, but the receptionist turned him back.

        “Family members only, I’m afraid,” the woman said, eyes sad. Lachlan shook his head vigorously, fighting past.

        “I’m not leaving her, ok!? All her family is dead, or doesn’t care about her. I’m as good a family as she’s gonna get,” he screamed. “I have to be there, I promised. I won’t let her die alone!” The nurse held him back, shaking her head, but Michael appeared, resting a hand on the boy’s arm.

        “It’s ok, he can come.” Nodding to Lachlan, he led him through the swinging doors, into a long hall that stank of death and false purity.