I rushed as gingerly as I could to the hospital.
- I didn’t have time to ask the cop what happened to my roommate Debbie because the encore presentation of Father of the Pride was going to begin in just a few moments. I tried to thrash through the police tape blocking my apartment to get to the television but the police firmly suggested I not contaminate the crime scene. They also firmly recommended I go find Debbie at the nearby Park Slope Methodist Hospital ER where she had just been admitted. They were right. Why was I being so self absorbed? Father of the Pride stinks. Besides, it’s the first of the month and Debbie owes me some serious rent money.
I rushed as gingerly as I could, stopping once to pick up a bouquet of daisies and a get well soon card from a bodega along the way.
Finally, the hospital entrance comes into view. Barging politely into the waiting room, I pleaded with those nearby, demanding they tell me where Debbie is. Most continued coughing or crying—completely ignoring me. A triage nurse came to my assistance.
“I’m afraid Debbie is in critical condition,” she revealed.
“Is that serious?”
“No. It’s critical.”
This just can’t be. What happened to her? Will she be conscious enough to tell me where she keeps her checkbook?
“I have to see her.”
To heighten the seriousness of the moment without conforming to literary BS like flowery descriptions or complete sentences, I composed a haiku:
White coats, scrubs--rush, rush
The scent of death looms
The nurse takes me to the room. I’m so nervous for me.
BEEP BEEP ^v-^v—There she was. Lying on a bed--so fragile, barely moving. An IV pole was blocking my view of Debbie’s face. I move around to finally see what she looks like sans burqa. Dear lord! Her whole head is bandaged in gauze except for the mouth and eyes. Is she that stupid neighbor on Home Improvement or what? This is so weird. BEEP BEEP v^--v--
“Debbie!!! You’re alive! You look awful. Can you hear me?” I snapped my fingers twice.
“N….ate? Is… that… you?”
“You bet it’s me. I brought you flowers." I waived them in front of her eye holes. What happened to you?”
“…was attacked…” BEEP BEEP ^v^---
“By whom? What did they want?”
“He was looking for you.”
“For me? Who?? Was it that guy from Capital One?”
“No….it…was…..” BEEP BEEP
“Come on, spit it out, damn it.”
“Sebastian! He has a blog...somewhere...tells everything...you must *hack* find him...*cough*” BEEP BEEP ^v--^v—BEEEEEEEEEEEEP -----------
“Aaah! HELP! NURSE! Don’t die on me Debbie!” I got up on her bed, straddled her lifeless body and began pounding on her chest.
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