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Kethry
Member Rara Avis

since 2000-07-29

Posts 9082
Victoria Australia

0 posted 2003-03-09 11:55 PM

This was a worktask from the writer's group I attend. We had to use the courier, the artist, the plumber in a piece and I'm bored with rhyme so this is my piece . I hope you like it.

The artist, the courier and the plumber seemed to have nothing in common except that they were all shorter than average height and they all came and asked after the Jane Doe who had been brought in unconscious and scarcely breathing. The Jane Doe had arrived unconscious with no identifying details and as nondescript as they come. The only thing that that marked her as different from the rest was a ring; a silver wrought dragon that enclosed the fire of an opal in its claw. The opal glowed with more life than the Jane Doe currently had or was likely to have in the future. The trauma team that had worked on her had been baffled by her complete lack of injury and her strange metabolism that defied the tests conducted to revive her and so she remained as unresponsive to touch and voice as she had been when she was brought in. Dr Daniel Hartman had been called in to consult and he had been annoyed at first. Today the prince was coming, he was to be honoured and he needed time to prepare, but when he learned the circumstances of her admission he became intrigued. Treating coma victims was not his speciality, he was a heart surgeon, a mender of hearts he liked to call it but he was available on hand and so had the privilege of consulting and then finding relatives and friends to identify her.

She was an enigma and Dr Hartman did not like enigmas, they smacked of the mysterious and unexplained and belied the science that was his god. He had been called when the trauma team had decided there was nothing more that they could do for her, in the end she had been ventilated and left. Now in the cubicle surrounded by the trappings of sterility she looked lost, isolated and forlorn. The good doctor was undertaking a more thorough examination when the first query came through about the girl, for she was little more than a girl he thought, although her size may have deceived about her age. She was what they called in the old days petite. Dan had always believed that meant oddly proportioned and fragile but in this instance he could see it meant she was tiny. Tiny yes but perfectly proportioned and with an inner glow to her that lit up the room despite her current inertness and only fragile in that she was helpless. She took Dan's breath away, her beauty seeming to be that of some ethereal creature from another plane. He was no giant himself he reasoned and had built his reputation to such giant proportions because of his lack of stature. He had always felt conscious that he was short and had compensated by being brilliant. In fact he was so brilliant that the surgery he operated in had been fitted to suit his height, or the lack of it.

The plumber came first, his tools of the trade in his hand as he made loud and angry queries about the girl who was believed to be here. He would not be calmed and would not be swayed by the nurse's pleas to be quiet. When the nurse asked the name of the patient he was looking for, he hesitated for a moment and then described the girl perfectly and added - we call her Blanche, she has no other, it is not her real name but it fits her well enough.

"So you are Blanche?" said Doctor Dan gently stroking her cheek, "it is nice that you are someone now." He turned to deal with the loud plumber and did not see the eyelashes of Blanche flutter and then close gently again to resume their position of rest on her cheeks.

Hard on his heels followed the courier and the artist. The courier wore leathers with the logo AAA Couriers, fast and 'ficient emblazoned across the back. The artist and the courier arrived together with the artist yawning and the courier hesitating as if he was not used to speaking to people. As it was early morning and the artist was wearing his smock that was paint spattered no one thought twice about his state of mind and they assumed he must have been working all night on some artwork or other.  The artist, after ascertaining that Blanche was there and being taken care of, promptly went to sleep on one of the cold hard benches that are so much a part of hospital scenery. Outside in the reception area, the plumber was making even more demands as he pushed to see the patient.
Dr Hartman went to him and drew him away from the now interested, listening crowd and then he took him to a private room where their conversation would not be overheard. The waiting patients and their friends shrugged non-communicatively and returned to their magazines and quiet talk.
The doctor called and the courier too was taken away to privacy while the artist slept on, oblivious to the world and its surroundings.

Dr. Dan explained to the two men that the hospital did not know what was wrong with Blanche; he said she had been brought in unconscious and had perhaps been bitten by a venomous snake or had been infected by some other poison. "All they could do," he said grimly "was to keep her alive and conduct more tests to see if they could determine the cause of the coma." As the diagnosis was given, the plumber grumbled and complained but agreed to stay as long as he was needed. The courier agreed too, although he was more reticent and simply nodded his head. The plumber said they were expecting another three people to come and asked whether there was a place they could meet and wait.

The doctor, grimaced but answered their questions politely enough, today was a big day for him and he didn't really want to spend his preparation time in answering their questions but they were family to Blanche and he owed them the courtesy of sitting with them and calming their fears. His preparations for meeting the prince could wait; patients came first.

At last they had their questions answered and Dan had shown them to a place where they could wait. The artist had to be woken to make the trip and had promptly fallen asleep when they arrived but as no one else seemed worried Dan saw no reason for concern either. The day was marching on and Dan had things to do, so with one last glance at Blanche before she was moved to intensive care he moved away and went about his business. He would have liked to stay and supervise the move for there was something about this scrap of humanity that caused all his protective instincts to rise to the fore and he felt a mad desire to kiss her, as he looked at her a memory stirred but he could not grasp it before it slipped away. It was going to be a long day he decided.

The orderlies came and carefully moved Blanche to intensive care where the machines beeped and lights flashed providing the monitoring and baby-sitting service that showed she was still alive and - that would give warning if the situation changed. The three men were allowed to see her one by one or wait as they pleased. They chose to wait in the anteroom as visitors to the ICU were restricted and they preferred to be together rather than apart. Later as the day marched on - two other men joined the courier, the artist and the plumber. First there came a man who appeared to be disabled, he smiled indiscriminately at anyone who passed but stared with vacant eyes that looked upon the world with no sight and no thought, although he did respond to Blanche by holding her hand while silent tears ran down his face. Along with him came a carer who seemed to look upon the world as if a great gift had been given to him; he was cheerful and willing to do whatever the nurses asked of him. He took great care when with Blanche to ensure she was comfortable and he told her jokes and laughed out loud with her. This was something the others had not been prepared to do. The nurses smiled when it was this man's turn to keep vigil, as he seemed to be aware of what Blanche needed and required very little assistance when he was sitting with her. While he was with Blanche the others took care of the imbecile, although he seemed unaware of their presence. The artist woke and slept, woke and slept and in periods of wakefulness went to see Blanche and told stories of sleepers gone by and how they were awakened. He told of Rip Van Winkle and of Thomas the rhymer who had been captured by faerie folk and of the wiles that set them free. The staff listened avidly to these stories for he had a hypnotic air about him and they relaxed under his storytelling. The machines and lights moved in time to his voice and the staff at ICU found themselves mesmerised and caught in a time stream that moved at a different pace to the normal bustle of life. The unnatural quiet of the ICU invaded the air and the stillness of the patients was reflected in the stillness and calmness of the staff, who had been soothed by the storytelling.

Elsewhere in the hospital, the preparations for the day that began with a flurry of movement and progressed to frenetic activity as all the arrangements for the prince and his entourage were finalised and set in place, became the guidepost for the way the rest of the day would progress. Dan paused in his preparations and thought often of the girl; at first he put it down to her strange reaction to the examination and her immunity to the drug regime that would restore her to consciousness and then he thought it was because she was so very perfect, so vulnerable, so petite. He vowed to make time in his busy day to return to her to see if she had made progress but for now he had patients to see and speeches to rehearse. He was honoured that the prince was coming on this day to give him an award for his work in cardiac surgery but felt humbled that it was being given to him. He maintained that he could only mend broken hearts through the unfailing dedication of his team. He thought again of Blanche and of the quirk of fate that had brought him to her side. If he had not been at the hospital early to prepare, because anxiety would not allow him to sleep, he would not have been called in to consult on the strange case that now haunted him, although not in the way he would expect.

The preparations for the prince's visit caused the flurry of activity to increase to epic proportions and Dan put aside his musings and hurried to finish his rounds so that he could further prepare for the prince's coming. The prince was scheduled to visit in the late afternoon, before visitors were due to arrive, in this way security could be guaranteed and risk of harm minimised. Not that there had been any threats of harm, the hospital board had made sure of that by checking and re-checking the credentials of the staff and closing the hospital to all but urgent admissions. Dan briefly wondered if the strange visitors for Blanche would pose a security threat and then just as quickly dismissed the idea as ludicrous. They were concerned only for Blanche's welfare it seemed and they had said and done nothing that would raise alarm bells. It was curious though, that this girl who, so very little was known about, should end up here and bring in her wake an entourage of men as disparate as day and night although each was as equally dedicated to her. He wondered what it was she had done, that had brought about such loyalty - such devotion. He shook his head free of his meanderings and continued on his rounds.

As he finished his rounds he came upon a man who appeared to be lost. His eyes were red from crying and he carried a large handkerchief with him. The man was dressed well, although was short of stature. He introduced himself and said he had been held up in court and had been unable to come sooner, he said he was looking for Blanche and had been given directions, he also said his blasted hay fever had turned his senses around and he was not sure of where he was now and where he was supposed to be going. Dr Dan nodded, he had suffered hay fever a long time ago and knew how the constant sneezing could affect the senses and cause the spirit to fail. He decided to visit Blanche one more time before the prince arrived, before getting into his penguin suit and agreed to escort the lawyer to her room, in that way he argued that he would be reducing the security risk.

Blanche lay much as she had before; the machines beeped and clanged reminding that life, although absent here, still existed.  He watched out of the corner of his eye as the six men greeted each other. It seemed as if they shared a friendship that was bonded by their love for Blanche. They spoke softly but with concern about Blanche and her need to awaken. Dan overheard the words "a prince's kiss" but believed his anxiety about the prince's visit had clouded his ears and caused him to mishear. He turned away and under the guise of examining her he softly brushed his lips against her cheek, she sighed but did not awaken. He did not think she would, and laughed silently at his foolishness. He had been listening to too many faerie tales he decided. The enigma of Blanche's disease and his anxiety about the visit of the prince has caused him to slip into fancy. He remembered when he was young, how his mother had held him and told him all the faerie stories, all the tales of love lost and found by a prince's kiss and he remembered the warmth he had felt when she had told him these things. How was it he had lost his innocence and become so cynical that faerie tales had no place in his life. He smiled again warmed and calmed by the memory of his mother and the tales she told. It seemed his cynicism was in part a defence against the fantasy world that she inhabited; certainly his skill with the blade had come about because he first desired to see the intricacies of the heart and when disillusion that the heart was nothing more than muscle and gristle had set in, he took great pleasure in his craft and built on his skill base. It was because of his mother - or perhaps in spite of her that he had reached this pinnacle of perfection. If it had not been for her fancy he might not have become the surgeon he was, he may not have discovered the power of science or known the awe of a job well done as he repaired the machines that kept the body functioning perfectly. In a world of science he was a giant and yet it rankled that his mother still called him my little doc, as she had done when he was a child.

He recalled the passing time and hurriedly left the ICU and Blanche with her six attendants behind.

"The prince is coming!" The whisper of the amazed nursing staff spread through the building, echoed by the technicians, therapists and specialists. The prince was definitely coming as promised; they could see the limousines and the escort disembarking. The prince passed by, no more than an echo of a white glove until he came to the place where the ceremony was to be held. There, dignitaries spruced up for the occasion, waited in a line of nervous anticipation. Dr Hartman who was also nervous sat and fidgeted in his place, he would have much preferred to be spared this honour but it was not to be. Fate had decreed that he must be rewarded and the prince was the one to it. As he sat and waited, his thoughts returned to Blanche. He wondered if she had recovered consciousness and how her friends were coping with the enforced confinement. He felt a strange sympathy for them and their time of waiting. He knew that some patients in comas never recovered and those that recovered after some time usually suffered brain damage, he hoped that it was not this way for Blanche.

The prince made his way to the podium and sat near to Dr Hartman as the speeches were made, he looked bored to tears and his gaze was fixed, as was his smile. Then Dr Hartman did something totally unpredictable that breached every code of etiquette he had ever learned. He leaned across to the prince and said quietly, "I have a case that you might be interested in. A patient was brought in this morning, in a coma but with no signs of injury, her friends say the kiss of a prince can awaken her." The prince said nothing but the fixed smile became more relaxed and his facial expression softened. There was genuine warmth in his hand as he presented the medal of honour to the good doctor and when he shook the doctor's hand it was with firmness, while a surprising twinkle sparkled in the prince's eye.

The entourage was preparing to leave when the prince made a startling announcement. "I have heard that this hospital has one of the best intensive care units in the world and I would much like to visit the unit and see your equipment."
Mutterings arose all around at this sudden change in plans, however despite advice and suggestions to the contrary the prince remained unperturbed and unchanged in his opinion.  His staff reluctantly acceded his request knowing that if his mind was made up he would not be swayed.

The tour of the ICU did not take long and the prince made appropriate comments all the way around, the entourage began to relax when the prince came to Blanche's bed. The machines that helped her to breathe beeped and buzzed and the prince asked about her history. Dr Dan explained that she had been brought in this morning unconscious and scarcely breathing but the hospital had not been able to find a cause for her state. The prince smiled and said, "Perhaps she has a broken heart. I have heard you are very good at mending broken hearts."

"I am not THAT good your highness!" the doctor decried, "this is beyond my skill. She needs a miracle."
The prince leaned over Blanche and gently kissed her on the cheek. Then Blanche coughed, spat up a small white, half chewed piece of matter, breathed deeply and opened her eyes.
"My prince," she murmured sleepily, "I knew doc would bring you to me. The dwarves, sleepy, grumpy, bashful, dopey, sneezy and happy have cared for me well but now it is time to go home with you." The artist, the plumber, the courier all bowed deeply from the waist, while the imbecile smiled vacantly, the lawyer drew up a pre-nuptial contract and the carer smiled at all and sundry.

The prince seemed to be captivated by Blanche and prevented anyone from separating them. Soon Blanche was dressed and ready to go. Hurried preparations had been made to ensure Blanche would return with her prince to his country. Then the wedding would be announced. As Blanche held the prince's hand oblivious to the whisperings and stares of the gathering crowd, the prince noticed the ring that had been returned to her. He laughingly said, "My mother always told me I would be captured by a dragon. I always thought she was fanciful. I never realised it would be the dragon of love. If I had seen the ring I would have hesitated to kiss you and so break the spell, now I am glad that I was not forewarned."

The prince and Dan the dwarf exchanged a look of understanding about mothers and their predictions and of the way faerie tales have a habit of making the happy ever after come true, despite or perhaps because of circumstances.

Here in the midst of my lonely abyss, a single joy I find...your presence in my mind.  Unknown

[This message has been edited by Kethry (03-10-2003 04:05 AM).]

SPIRIT
Senior Member

since 2002-12-29

Posts 1745
California Desert

1 posted 2003-03-10 02:46 PM

A Snow White tale, I figured that out as soon as a Prince was brought into the write. Interesting piece, I kind of skipped through it when I realized how long it was. I will come back when time permits and give it a 100% of my attention. Interesting though.

Sunshine

Administrator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-06-25

Posts 63354
Listening to every heart