California Moon

Ben opened the door and leaned against the jamb. “Need some help with the bedding? He’s kinda heavy.”

“I can manage,” she replied, tugging on the sheets.

Ben entered the room. “Ever heard the old saying that two people lighten the load.”

“Yes,” she replied as Ben lifted John’s leaden legs like feathers. She rolled the sheeting upward.

“Do you like movies, Shannon?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your favorite kind?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Musicals, I guess. Love stories.”

Ben slammed his hand over his heart. “Hope abounds! I figured you’d tell me you like those awful Gothic-horror flicks or blow-up stuff.”

Shannon chuckled in spite of herself. “Why? Is that what you like?”

“Never. I like westerns. Old ones. Even the silent ones. Tom Mix. I especially like the part where the cowboy kisses the cowgirl at the end.”

She looked away. “And then he rides off into the sunset…alone.”

“Is that what he did to you? He left you?”

Her eyes clouded over and the walls shot up around her. She stiffened visibly but said, “No, I left.”

“Oh,” he sighed.

Shannon finished changing the linens in silence. “Thanks for helping me, Ben,” she said finally.

He went to the tape player and exchanged the tape with one he’d hidden in his jacket pocket. He depressed the button. “I like La Bohème. It moves my soul.” He walked out the door.

Shannon looked from the door to the tape player and gasped. “How could he know? It’s my favorite, too.”

When evening came, the dinner trays were brought by an orderly. Ben took a tray for Shannon and left one for himself outside John’s door.

He pushed the door open, announcing, “Break time.”

Shannon looked at the tray, not realizing she was frowning.

“If you eat that stuff on a consistent basis, Ben, you’ll die.”

“This is a hospital. The food is supposed to be healthy.”

“I meant die of boredom.” She laughed.

Ben laughed with her as he put the tray on the window ledge. “How about we bust this joint and get some seafood. What do you say?”

“We can’t leave the patient, Ben. One of us has to be here at all times.”

Ben looked at John. “Nothing like having a vegetable for competition.”

Shannon’s frown was fierce. “Take it back.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You could have hurt his feelings. He can hear you, you know.”

“He’s unconscious,” Ben argued.

“The mind absorbs everything in its surroundings awake or asleep.” She looked at John empathetically. “He’s a human being. Just like you and me,” she said softly.

Ben backed away. There was something solemn about that moment and he had the incredible feeling he was not part of it. He realized he was an intruder.

The next day Ben brought in a tiny artificial Christmas tree, complete with lights, and set it up inside John’s room.

“What’s this?” Shannon asked. “Who sent this to John?”

“I bought it for you.”

She looked at the tree. “I told you to save your money.”

“Scrooge,” he replied, picking up his bantering tone again. “It was only six bucks. On sale.”

She examined it. “It’s kinda scrawny.”

He inspected the tree. “Do you think?”

She crossed to John’s bed and lifted his arm to take his pulse.

Ben smiled. “And here I was thinking I’d spared no expense when it came to you.”

She took John’s blood pressure and recorded her findings on his chart. “Ben, we’ve known each other for over three weeks now. I’ve been judicious about letting you know my feelings and concerns. But you keep pressing…”

Before she could finish, Ben crossed over to her. “I’m trying to wear you down.”

“Ben, please. I don’t want to be worn down. I’m doing fine on my own. Really.”

“Have lunch with me.”

“I can’t leave John,” she said.

“I’ve ordered takeout from the café,” he said brightly. “We’ll sit with John. He can join us if he likes.”

She cast him a semidamning look.

“He’ll be safe,” Ben assured her.