Trapped

Word Count 919                                       

         I’m trapped. Unable to move, I stare at the ceiling most days. Sometimes a television is left on and I watch what is there. Over time the shows have grown very boring. For entertainment I’m forced to rely on memories played over and over in my mind. Since I have no more holidays, no Christmas, no Thanksgiving, no day to enjoy with my family. My family all seem to have forgotten me. I remember holidays spent with my wife and children, my son a mere toddler. We lived in a large house with many servants. Our Christmas tree was always the largest around. Now I listen to others who pass through my room speak of holidays such as Hanukkah and Kwanzaa. Once I heard a man speak of Yule, an ancient holiday.  Andrew will be here soon. He speaks to Doc about things other than my health. I love to listen.

         “Hello, Doc. How are you today,” Andrew asks.

         “I’m doing great. You?”

         “Couldn’t be better. We’re celebrating Kwanzaa this year. It’ll help the kids get a closer feel for their ancestry,” Andrew smiled. “We’re still celebrating Christmas. We’ll just have two holidays now.”

         “The important question is, do you get off work for both?”

         “That would be a little greedy,” Andrew said. “Maybe I’ll ask the Lieutenant. I’ll let you know how that goes.”

         “What are you doing for Christmas, Doc?” Andrew asked.

         “We’re going up to Vermont. My wife’s people live up there. We have a big Christmas celebration with a Santa, reindeer, and a sleigh.  The kids love it.”

         “That sounds great. What’s your patient doing?”

         “He’ll be right here. I’ve got a Santa hat for him. Hopefully that’ll brighten the mood a bit. The emergency staff doesn’t like being here.”

         “Can you blame anyone for not wanting to be here on Christmas?”

         “No,” Doc answered. “I’m sure the patient wouldn’t like it either. That is, if there’s any consciousness associated with him.”

         “I can’t believe you guys still refer to that as a him. It seems really weird.”

         “If we called him John that would be weird. We don’t want to continually refer to him as it. If we succeed here it would be a hard habit to break. By calling it him we disassociate ourselves. You know, it takes our mind off the real reason we’re here.”

         “Doc, I hope you’re not trying to explain disassociate to me. I know what it means.”

         “I’m sorry, Andrew. I do that all the time. I guess that’s a drawback to being an education specialist, always trying to teach.”

         “Are you having any luck in that area?”

         “You know I can’t talk to you about that.”

         “I’ve got a level 5 security clearance. That’s as high as it can go.”

         “I know, Andrew. But this is on a need to know basis. You don’t need to know”

         “That’s true, Doc. It’s just that I’m here every day. Can’t you give me something?”

         “Let’s just say it’s not going well. When you try to mix hardware with biology things always get messy. I, personally, think we’re dealing with nothing more than a lump of flesh.”

         “Well, Doc, you never know, the next big development could be right around the corner.”

         “I guess you’re right.”

         “Thanks for that bone. You have a nice Christmas, Doc. Later.”

         “You too, Andrew, actually, happy holidays. That seems more appropriate in your case.”

         “Thanks, Doc,” Andrew laughed. He then turned and walked out the door.

         I learned nothing from their conversation. Doc’s efforts to establish some type of system where I could communicate were already known to me. I wanted to talk to him as much or more than he wanted to speak to me. Again, I looked at the television. The same thing was showing. It was a shot of a lab. Nothing was happening, as usual. How did they ever let this get on the air?

         My memories once again take over. This time I recall television shows of the past. The Andy Griffith show was one I really liked. Don Knotts was a great comedic actor. I’m surprised I haven’t seen him on any other shows. One big difference between the television here and the one that was in my home was the color. I just wish I could have seen Andy and Opie in color. That would be great, anything to occupy my mind, take it off the holidays and focus on something more.

I then noticed Doc standing. He hit the keyboard a few more times and then walked toward me. He grabbed my head and pulled me toward him. Funny, I can’t feel his touch. He reaches to each side of my head and disconnects something. Everything goes black.

         I wake up to see Doc reaching to the left side of my head. I’m unable to turn to see. He steps back. I’m now in a different place, raised off the floor. There are wires running to each side of my head. I can only guess that Doc put them there. He looks at me. A sad expression crosses his face.

         “I’m sorry you have to go through this. They should let you rest in peace. Have a good night President Kennedy.”

         Every thing is now flowing in on me. I remember Dallas, the sunny day, the pain. I try to scream but can’t. I’m trapped, unable to move; unable to speak. No holidays for me. I am cursed to forever be on the outside looking in.