Highway Part 47

Highway Chapter 23(continued)

When they opened again, I didn’t recognize my surroundings. At first I had thought myself in a different white room, still dead, but I began to notice the subtle things that told me where I was. I had made it to a hospital somehow.

Ow! The wound I had before throbbed violently and I looked to see dressings on my side. It ached deeply. This was too painful for the afterlife, and so I figured I had made it back alive. Someone rushed to my side, grabbing my hand. Looking up, I saw my baby girl.

“Veronica?” I asked, my throat dry.

She nodded, squeezing my cold hand gently with her warm one.

“I’m here, Matt. I won’t ever leave you again.”

I couldn’t stop my heart from jumping at her words. She was here, right next to me. I could see every feature I couldn’t stop thinking about, and I let the sight of her flood my eyes. After a moment, I tore my eyes away from her.

I saw Julian standing on the other side of me. Why was he here? How did he get back? What happened? Seeing the look on my face, he explained what had happened. He told me about how Veronica cauterized my wound, and then proceeded to drag me most of the way to town. I looked up at her, relishing the feeling of her hand holding mine.

My baby girl had saved me, but not just from death. She had saved me in life too, showing me how to truly live. I knew without a doubt that I had made the right decision to live again, if only to be by her side. I was feeling myself fall into sleep again, and I almost panicked.

But this wasn’t the same feeling of slipping away as dying, this time merely being sleep. It was likely I wouldn’t die in the hospital, and even if I kind of did, I knew how to get back. The nurse tried to shoo Veronica and Julian out, but I stopped her.

“Please,” I slurred slightly, “Let them stay. They make me feel more relaxed.”

She gave them a stern set of instructions, but let them stay. Veronica leaned over me and gave me a kiss on the forehead, telling me to sleep. I was happy to oblige.

They transferred me to a general floor the next day, which meant more freedom with visitors. Veronica watched over me like a hawk, talking to me like a child.

“Don’t eat that! It’s bad for you,” she’d say, “Stop twisting to the side, you’ll open up your wound!”

I wasn’t allowed to reach for anything if she was there.

“Come on,” I said playfully, “You’re acting as if you’re my mother.”

I complained to tease her, but I was happy she cared enough to fuss over me. She had almost lost me, after all, and I didn’t blame her for worrying too much. I would do the same if our positions had been reversed.

When they finally discharged me a few days later, they told me I couldn’t do any hard physical activity for a few weeks. I scoffed, thinking them insane. Did they honestly think they could keep me off the road for weeks?

Veronica scolded me about it, much to my dismay. She threatened me, and I teased her about hurting a cripple. I tried to get Veronica out on the road, but she threatened me again into staying.

“I won’t go with you if you leave,” she had said, “I mean it. Don’t expect me to drag your body to another hospital. It was a onetime deal.”

I laughed, carefully pulling her in for a hug.

Reporters bothered us for days, all hoping to get story details and interviews. We told them the basics, but left out the personal things. Veronica had me tell Julian about her past. I was surprised, but something had obviously gone on while I was asleep that made her trust him. It was another thing that made my heart fill with joy.

I made it a point to tell Veronica just how much I cared about her as much as possible. I didn’t know when I would die permanently, but I did know I needed to spend the rest of my time with her.

One night, we were at the hotel, watching old western movies. She had gotten me into them, despite me usually thinking they were ridiculous. She was sitting next to me, so it was all too easy to pull her in for a side embrace.

“Matt, stop it!” she protested, “You’ll hurt yourself again!”

She worried too much, and I told her so. I was healing up nicely, the skin coming together again. I would always have a scar, but it was worth it to be able to stay here. After a few vain struggles, she gave up.

She snuggled her head into the crook of my neck, and I buried my face in her hair, breathing in the scent of strawberries. It felt so wonderful to feel her in my arms, to see my baby girl alive and happy.

After a while, we got ready for bed. Veronica made Ozzie stick his head through my door, and I laughed at the fuzzy octopus. She gave me a hug before she left, and I planted a kiss on her forehead. I hummed a song absentmindedly, realizing later that it was Veronica’s lullaby.

The next few days were like this, idyllic and full of joy. After a thorough examination from Veronica, she cleared me for road travel.

“Just don’t do anything really stupid,” she said.

We set off after we said goodbye to Julian, enduring his endless bear hugs. Veronica and I sang songs on the road, laughing at ourselves. Life had returned to normal, and we were both happy with it how it was.

We reached camp early, and explored until it got dark out. We chased fireflies around, Veronica marveling at their glow. She forbade me to do any setting up, and so I sat down while she got the camp ready.

She made the fire, and I smiled, thinking of her frustration just a few weeks ago. Now she was a pro, lighting the fire with no effort. I went to gather some wood after promising to be careful.

When I came back, she was fussing with something. It appeared to be a little box, ornate and silver.

Not wanting to invade her privacy, I asked carefully, “What’s that? Just a little memento?”

She opened it, coming to sit next to me.

“I’ve had this box ever since I was very little. It has a few things inside.” she said, and took out a photo.

“It’s a family photo,” she continued, “My father isn’t in it because he was taking it.”

She gave it to me, and I gently took it. There was a younger Veronica, about 7, with her older brother. He had Veronica’s eyes, but otherwise looked more like his father. He was about her age now, so this must have been taken soon before he died. But as I looked to her mother, she was smudged out. Veronica saw my look of confusion, and explained.

“It used to have my mother in it too. But one day, after I was really mad at school, I threw it in a pond. I was mad that I didn’t have anyone to chaperone me on a fieldtrip, and sad that they had left me behind,” she said, “I didn’t remember what happened to them, only that they had gone. I soon realized my mistake and dove in after it, but the top was already smudged. I can’t remember her face now.”

She looked infinitely sad, and I put my arm around her. She leaned into my shoulder, and started looking through the rest of the tiny box.

There was a friendship bracelet, her brother’s she said, a penny that had been run through an ornament machine, and a birthday card folded up into a tiny square. She read it aloud, and I knew it was from her brother. I thought she might cry, but she just smiled.

“Matt?” she suddenly asked, and I turned to her.

“What’s up?” I asked.

I thought she might want to talk about her family, but it wasn’t the case.

“When we were at the complex and you were dying,” she said, wincing at the word dying, “I wondered if you knew how to do something.”

I nodded for her to go on.

“Do you know how to hijack a car?”

I sat in stunned silence. What? What kind of question was that? I gave her an incredulous look, nonplussed. When I didn’t say anything, she smiled.

“Oh my gosh! You totally know how! I knew you would! Would you teach me?”

Oh, no. Just because I knew from living in the city didn’t mean I would teach her.

“No way!” I said, upset.

She pouted at me.

“Come on!” she said, “Don’t be a spoil sport! There are things I need to know about to make it in the world!”

I scoffed, looking at her like she was crazy.

“Yes,” I replied, “But hijacking a car isn’t one of them! I’m not going to teach you. If you want to know useful things that aren’t highly illegal, I’ll teach you those. But there is no way that I’m ever going to show you how to steal a car!”

She made a face, giving me a glare and muttering something about being a killjoy.

I’ve made her into a delinquent, I thought ruefully, it’s only a matter of time before she asks me how to break into a second story room from a tree. After seeing the expression on my face, she laughed.

“You look so distressed!” she exclaimed, “It’s not like I was planning on doing it for fun!”

I gave her a doubtful look, and she pushed me playfully. After a few more attempts of getting me to tell her how, she gave up.

We settled in for the night, watching the stars.I told her a few more stories, and she sat in content silence. I listened to the crickets and cicadas sing their song, and relaxed now that I was surrounded by nature again. I fell into sleep gently, like a leaf falling from a tree.

I awoke to the sound of movement next to me. Looking over with bleary eyes, I saw Veronica wriggle out of her sleeping bag. She didn’t notice I was awake. She had a peculiar look on her face, and I wondered if something was wrong.

I brushed it off, thinking she just needed either a walk in the night air or to relieve herself. I snuggled back into my sleeping bag, feeling sleepiness overtake me again. But as I started to fall asleep again, I wondered if she was okay.

It had been 15 minutes since she left, an unusual amount of time for someone to be gone. She wouldn’t have gone far, for she didn’t like the dark. She never told me, but I could tell by the way her eyes flitted back and forth nervously if we hadn’t made a fire before the sun set.

I propped myself up on my elbow, scanning the woods. When I couldn’t spot her, I began to worry. It’s nothing, I told myself firmly, you’re worrying for no reason. My assertion proved to be right when I finally spotted her on top of a nearby rock, flat from rain erosion. But something about her posture was odd.

She was stock still, and she wasn’t doing any of the things she usually did. When she was still, she had a habit of fidgeting. Twirling a strand of her hair, shuffling her feet, crossing and uncrossing her legs.

Becoming concerned, I decided to see if she was okay. The worst that could happen is that she would think I worried too much, which she probably does already. When I approached her unmoving form, she didn’t even look up.

“Hey,” I called, hoping to break the unnatural stillness.

She didn’t say anything. I crouched down beside her, wondering what was going on. Her eyes were open, but they were glossed over. All of a sudden, she started to twitch. Slightly, almost like she had an itch she couldn’t reach. What was happening?