Past Lives
an excerpt

Beep, beep, beep, beep. His eyes were too heavy to open so he listened. That incessant beeping never stopped. He hurt. Not as bad as before but he was far from comfortable. He did not know why he hurt, what was causing the bone deep ache. Something had happened. Something bad. But what? How long had he been here? For that matter, where was here? It was quiet. There were no distinguishing sounds or smells for him to pick out. No clue to give away his location. He made up his mind. He had to know where he was. Slowly, ever so slowly, he was able to force his eyes open enough to take in his surroundings.

A bed. An ugly brown and yellow curtain dividing the room. A window letting sunlight stream onto the floor. From somewhere beyond the curtain, someone coughed weakly. At least he was not alone. He shifted his gaze to the right. A hallway. Someone in scrubs walked by without so much as a glance in his direction. A hospital. That explained the beeping. A heart monitor or something.

Ok, he was in a hospital. Why? Had there been an accident? He could not remember. Maybe it was because of whatever medication they were giving him. Whatever it was, he did not like it. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He cautiously attempted to wiggle his fingers and toes. They still worked. He was not paralyzed, that much he knew. All the questions running through his mind were tiring him beyond belief. Who knew thinking took so much energy? Energy was something he did not have a large supply of. Sleep. Sleep was a good idea. He would just sleep. Maybe later he would know more. Maybe someone would be around to answer his questions. For now, he would just sleep.

Smoke. It was everywhere. He could feel the heat of the flames on his back. Reach out, feel the way, find a way out. Stay low, breathe slow, do not panic. Wait. What was that noise? Was someone there? Back there, behind him, someone was crying. They were trapped, hiding from the fire. He had to go back. Follow the wall, keep your bearings. Remember which way you came in. There! The closet. Open the door, feel around inside. A tiny foot, a leg. Small hands gripping at his arms. It is alright now. We will be safe. Come with me. Cradle her close. Stick to the wall. She is coughing, having trouble breathing in the smoke. Here, share the mask, share the air. The hall is just ahead, the stairs are close. Almost there. Almost there. A terrible crashing noise. Pain, darkness, nothing.

His head felt like it had been run over by a Mack truck when he opened his eyes again. The sunlight had changed position on the floor so he knew it had been a few hours since he woke up the last time. The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention to the doorway. White coat, nice watch, lousy hair. Must be the doctor.

“It is nice to see you awake for a change, Cole. Tell me, how are you feeling?” the doctor asked when he stopped by the bed.

“Do I know you? Everything is a little on the fuzzy side.”

“I am Doctor Paul Morrin. You were brought in early Tuesday morning. You were hurt pretty bad but you were lucky. Your crew got you out of the house.”

Cole frowned in confusion. “My crew?”

“The fire department. You are part of the volunteer fire department in the town you live in.” Dr. Morrin looked concerned as he took a step closer to Cole. “Cole, you had a serious blow to the back of your head. If you had not been wearing your helmet, you could have very well been killed. I have had experience with patients who suffered head trauma experiencing memory loss. Now, I am going to ask you a few questions. I want you to answer them to the best of your ability. Alright?”

Cole nodded.

“What is your name?”

“Cole Richard Thompson.”

“Who is the current president of the United States of America?”

“George W. Bush.”

“What year is it?”

“2007.”

“What month is it?”

Cole hesitated a moment. “September?”

Dr. Morrin shook his head. “November. Just barely though.” He cocked his head to one side. “You may find that certain recent memories are incomplete or even missing. We will have to do a few tests but I do not think it is too serious.” His look brightened. “If you are feeling up to having a visitor, there is someone who is very anxious to speak to you.”

Cole shrugged. “Sure, that would be fine. I cannot promise that I will be able to stay awake though.”

“That would be the morphine. It has a tendency to knock a person out. If it bothers you too much, we can look at changing you onto a different pain medication.” He picked up Cole's medical chart and made a quick notation on it. “I will be back around again this evening. In the mean time, if you need anything, let us know.” He replace the chart and nodded a quick goodbye to Cole.

Watching Dr. Morrin walk out the door, Cole wondered if it was the medication or if Dr. Morrin was always that strange. He closed his eyes with a ragged sigh. He was tired, he was sore, his throat felt like someone had shoved a cactus down it. That dream. Was it real? Who was the little girl? Was she alright? He hoped so. A gentle rapping on the door was enough to pull his eyes open again. Standing in the doorway was an unfamiliar woman holding the hand of a small girl.

“Mr. Thompson?” the woman said, her voice uncertain.

“Yeah, what can I do for you?”

The woman stepped into the room, leading the child along. When they reached Cole's bed, she lifted the child and held her close. “I wanted to thank you. You saved my baby's life.” Tears began to well up in the woman's eyes as she pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead. “I know there is no way I could ever repay you. I just do not know what I would have done if I had lost her. She is my world, my life.” With one hand, she lifted the girl's chin to meet her gaze. “This is the fireman who helped you. Can you tell him thank you?”

A pair of bright green eyes locked onto Cole's face. A little voice filled his ears. “I was scared so I hid. Thank you for finding me.” She reached out a finger toward the bandages covering Cole's left arm. “Does that hurt?”

Cole could hardly breathe. He had saved her life? That was how he got hurt. But she was alive, she was safe. Really, that is all that mattered. He delicately fingered the bandages. “Nah, the doctor gave me medicine so it does not hurt. What is your name?”

“Sarah. What is your name?”

He smiled at her. “My name is Cole. When I get better, would you like to come visit the fire hall? I could show you and your mom the fire trucks.”

Sarah's smile was better than any medicine. She clapped her hands and nearly bounced her way out of her mother's embrace. “Please, Mommy? Can we?”

Her mother nodded. “I suppose so, baby.”

Sarah frowned. “No baby. I am a big girl,” she insisted. She looked back over at Cole and held up 4 chubby little fingers. “I am 4!”

He chuckled. “Yeah, sounds to me like you really are a big girl. Would you promise me something, Sarah? Never, ever hide from a fire. I know it can be scary but the best thing to do when you see a fire is to go outside. You and your mom can have a special place outside to go to. And never, ever go back inside to where the fire is. That is the job of the firefighters. OK?”

She nodded solemnly. “OK.”

A nurse stopped outside the doorway with a cart full of meals. Sarah's mother blinked back the remaining tears in her eyes. “We need to be going. Sarah, said goodbye to Mr. Thompson.”

“Bye, I hope you get better soon.”

Cole smiled. “Thank you, Sarah.”

Her mother quickly gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.”

When they had left the room, the nurse wheeled the bedside tray over and set the lunch tray on it. Cole lifted the covers off the food, curious as to what he was being served. That smelled like some sort of beef vegetable soup but when he stirred it with his spoon, the amount of meat seemed meager at best. A slice of garlic toast, some mushy looking carrots, a cup of hot water with a teabag. Dessert looked a little bit more promising. Vanilla pudding with rainbow colored sprinkles on top. “Life is uncertain, eat dessert first,” he mumbled to himself as he reached for the pudding. It really was the best part of the meal. The rest was good, for hospital food, but he was reasonably sure he would not be getting barbecued prime rib and jumbo prawns for supper. Maybe if he was to ask nicely, the nurse would give him coffee instead of tea. Morphine was nice but he seriously needed a caffeine fix.