Okay. That was weird.
I stared at the "Call Ended" screen for a long, bewildered moment, the silence of the alcove pressing back in against my ears. I thought about redialing, if only to complain about the sheer rudeness of hanging up on a person, especially a woman whose life had just been reduced to a five month countdown. My brain was a mess of fear and confusion; the least he could have done was offer a name or a "hang in there." But as I looked at the dark glass of the phone, I realized how stupid that would be. I didn't need an apology. I needed whatever was on the other end of that linen card.
Well, then. The emergent care entrance. That's what the voice had said.
I forced myself to my feet, my joints popping like dry twigs. I leaned against the cold brick for a second, waiting for the world to stop spinning. The medical center I'd just fled squatted like a gray giant in the center of the Cleveland Bayview campus. Around it, a flat expanse of frost browned lawn stretched out toward the distant city streets, looking as dead and dormant as I felt. There were other buildings scattered across the vast, clinical landscape, research labs, parking garages, outpatient clinics but I figured the emergency department had to be part of the main hub. Where, though, I couldn't guess. My brain felt numb and dumb, stalled out by the weight of the day's revelations.
I could go back inside. It would be warmer. There would be glossy directories and digital maps and helpful volunteers in vests. But there would also be people, too many bustling nurses with their purposeful strides and bewildered visitors clutching flowers. I'd just escaped that suffocating atmosphere; I couldn't bring myself to walk back through those sliding glass doors.
I zipped my jacket up to my chin and flipped the hood over my head. I hadn't even bothered to take it off inside the offices; the cold seemed to live inside my marrow. Picking a direction, I began the long, slow trek around the brick and glass monstrosity of the main hospital building.
A car will meet me? How strange was that? The phrase looped in my mind .
"I don't have to go," I whispered into the fur lining of my hood. The wind whipped the words away instantly. I didn't have to go, but I had to do something. Anything was better than sitting in that alcove and waiting for the clock to run out. I needed a movement, a direction, a sliver of hope, even if it was a weird, anonymous one.
The wind grew suddenly sharper as I moved farther from the building's windbreak. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets, my fingers curling around the linen card . Fatigue began to drag at my heels with every step, a heavy, leaden weight that made the sidewalk feel like it was uphill. I knew I would pay for this tomorrow, the flight down the stairs and this cross campus trek would leave me bedbound and broken but "tomorrow" was a luxury I wasn't sure I could afford to worry about anymore.
I rounded the first corner of the massive building. My heart sank. There was no sign of a driveway or a grand entrance, only a long, blank facade of windows and vents stretching uninterrupted for hundreds of feet.
Crap. With my luck today, the emergency department would be on the complete opposite side, and I'd managed to choose the longest, most grueling way around.
Would I even make it? The thought crept in. And if I collapsed out here in the cold, how long would it take for someone to find the girl who was already supposed to be dying?
I shoved those thoughts down, burying them under a layer of stubborn, frantic will. I focused on the pavement, counting my steps, forcing one foot to slide past the other.
By the time I rounded the second corner of the medical center, my breath was coming in ragged, shallow gasps and my legs were shaking so violently I thought my knees might buckle. My heart clenched with a sudden, sharp relief at the sight of a circular drive and a wide, concrete canopy jutting out from the building.
EMERGENCY, the red neon sign spelled out above the doors. I trudged toward it, shutting out the flare of pain in my hips and the exhaustion clouding my vision. I fixed my eyes on that word "Emergency"until it was the only thing left in the world.
I finally stumbled under the protection of the canopy and slumped against one of the massive square columns. The concrete was rough and unyielding, but it felt like a sanctuary. I leaned my full weight against it, trying to stop the trembling in my tired legs and struggling to catch my breath. I waited there, a petite shadow in a heavy hood, watching the cars go by and wondering which one was coming to take me towards lights of hope.