Page 45 of Stay Awake
The woman looks at me strangely when she gets out at her floor. I realize that I’ve been muttering “Stay awake” under my breath the whole time.
I want to explain, but the doors have already shut and the elevator is pummeling up again at full speed. When the elevator stops on Marco’s floor, I step out and walk toward his apartment at the end of the corridor. I freeze when I see his front door.
Someone is coming out. It’s not Marco. It’s a woman with shiny hair. She wraps a red scarf around her neck and buttons her navy overcoat as she walks toward me. Her cheeks are flushed and her mouth is swollen as if she’s just been kissed.
There’s something about her that reminds me of me. I stumble toward the apartment. The woman brushes past me without stopping. I feel an icy breeze as if I’ve passed a ghost.
I press my eye to the peephole of Marco’s front door and stare at the concave reflection of my pupil.
“Marco. It’s me, Liv. Can we talk?” I bang on the door with my fist and ring the doorbell at the same time.
A clatter of metal startles me. I turn around to see a cleaner pushing a metal bucket with a mop near the elevators. The cleaner stares at me as if she’s telling me something. Her mouth opens and shuts. I don’t hear any words. All I hear is buzzing.
“You’ve got to leave.”
I’m not sure who says it. Either way I’m in the elevator again. The doorman yells out as I pass him. “Lady, every few days you turn up here. I’ve told you plenty of times not to come back. Next time I see you, I’ll call the cops.”
His threats are drowned out by the traffic as I come out onto the street and wait for a bus to pull up. Soon, I’m on the bus looking down as pedestrians stride along the sidewalk while we’re stuck in traffic. My mind churns so many confused thoughts that I feel like I’m spinning on an out-of-control amusement park ride. I lean my head against the window and close my eyes for a moment of respite. I’m lulled by the hydraulic bus doors opening and closing as we move through snarling traffic.
I get off the bus and walk along the river to Bellevue Hospital. In the distance are the rectangular towers of the United Nations headquarters. I’m walking so fast it feels as if I am flying.
There’s a long line at the ER reception desk so I head over to general reception and ask if they can page Dr. Amy Decker.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the woman says after checking her computer. “There’s no doctor by that name working here. Are you sure you’re at the right hospital?”
“Yes. Amy definitely works here.”
The woman shrinks away at my vehemence. “It’s my first week here. Maybe I’m not looking in the right place,” she explains. She taps the shoulder of a colleague sitting next to her to enlist her help. Her colleague has dark hair that curves against her neck and suspicious eyes.
“Why are you asking for Dr. Decker?” she asks.
“Amy’s a friend. A close friend.”
I rub my temples to soothe the painful throb in my head as the woman looks at me strangely. She picks up a phone and makes a call, swiveling around on her chair so that I can’t hear her hushed conversation.
“Dr. Graham is coming to see you,” she tells me once she’s hung up.
“Brett?” My eyes widen in surprise. I want to talk to Amy, not Brett.
Brett turns up a couple of minutes later dressed in blue surgical scrubs that match his eyes. He beelines across the waiting area toward me. When he reaches me, he gently takes both my hands and helps me sit on an upholstered chair near the reception desk.
“Are you okay, Liv?” he asks, squatting down, as the receptionist watches curiously from her desk.
“Yes. No. Sort of.” Tears well in my eyes, making everything look blurry. I self-consciously wipe them away with my fingers, but they keep coming back. “Brett. I don’t understand what’s going on. Everything’s very confusing.”
“I know it is,” he says gently.
Brett’s so close to me that I can smell a mixture of aftershave and antiseptic.
“I’m in the middle of ward rounds. I still have two more patients to see, but I promise that as soon as I’m done I’ll be back to explain everything. Wait here for me, Liv. It’s important. It’s not safe for you out there. Do you understand?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. I’ll be back very soon and then we’ll talk.”
He takes a few magazines off a table and hands them to me to read. Then he has a quiet word with the woman behind the reception desk. She nods her head vigorously. I get the impression that Brett’s asked her to keep an eye on me.
Live electricity crackles in my head like a warning signal as he walks away. It gets louder and louder until I can’t bear it anymore. I feel restless and suddenly terrified of what Brett’s going to tell me.
