Waterfall and Eagle

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do not understand how urgent this is. I need to speak to my father.”

“You are going to have to call at a later time.” Why is this nurse not understanding how urgent this is? Is this a dream? Does she not understand that my mother is in the emergency room and might die? Does she not understand that the person I need to speak to right now is my father? Does anybody understand what I need?

“I NEED MY FATHER,” I yelled.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re upset, but you cannot speak to him at this time.”

“I guess you don’t understand.” Calm kidnapped my voice. “My mother is in the emergency room several continents away, and you will not let me speak to my father for even two minutes, because he is not available. What could he possibly be sooooo busy doing, that he cannot take the time to come to the phone and talk to his daughter about what has happened. You won’t even tell me any more details other than she is in a serious condition and surgery might cause her die.” The words spewed out in one breath, like a wave crashing against the shore. The nurse caught my drift.

“I know you’re upset and and angry, but you have to understand. Your father is discussing plans with the doctor about what the next steps might be.”

“IF YOU CAN’T LET ME SPEAK TO MY FATHER, THEN YOU CAN’T DO YOUR JOB. YOU ARE A LITTLE BITCH! YOU BETTER PUT MY FATHER ON THIS PHONE RIGHT NOW.”

Like a recurring loop on a tape recorder, the voice repeated, “I’m so sorry miss, but that is not possible right now. I regret this situation.” Robot. Statue. Alien.

Like a sarcastic teen who got stood up at the mall, my voice repeated, “Well fine. Thanks for ruining my Monday. You call me from Greece, tell me some tragic news about my mother, refuse to let me talk to my father, and give me enough tears to fill a swimming pool. So, I really appreciate your help.” I lowered my voice, inhaled, trying to calm down.

The voice continued. “I’m really sorry again, Kassie. We will do everything in our power. I make no promises, but I will have more information for you later this afternoon if you would like to call back.” This was the first time she had used my name since the beginning of our conversation. This bothered me for some reason, but I didn’t know why. I just know it did.

Unsettled, I replayed my own phone tape. “Thank you for your call.” Metal robot. Stone statue. Strange alien.

“Thank you,” I repeated mindlessly. “I have to go to my next class, but I will definitely talk to you later this afternoon.”

“I’m sorry again, Kassie. Have a great day.”

I could have done without the last comment. So cliche.

And now, for the well rehearsed act. All I had to do was wipe the tears from my eyes and put on a smile. Were tears worth the attention?

The bell rang, classes changed, the hall flooded with rivers of people, and I flowed anonymously to third period as usual, sat in the same seat as always, took out my homework, and waited for the teacher. The clock crawled in its endless circle. The day dragged.

At the break before sixth period, my last class of the day, I sneaked back outside to the quiet rose garden . My fingers fumbled to find “recent,” and pressing “call,” I heard the unfamiliar international ring.

“Hello, I need to speak to the fourth floor, please.”

“Which nurse do you want, sweetheart.” She called me sweetheart, which ticked me off. Only my grandmother calls me sweetheart. This high-pitched bird voice sounded nothing like my Gram.

“I would like to speak with Nurse Claire.”

“Who may I say is calling?”

“Kassie. My name Kassie. Just tell Nurse Claire, Kassie is calling. I told her I would call back this afternoon.”

“Hold on, while I transfer you to her floor.” Soon Nurse Claire’s voice came over the phone. My smile tightened, hoping for good news. I would be wrong.

“Hello, Kassie. How was the rest of your day?” Platitudes. Script. Routine.

“Fine, ” I echoed back, like an ordinary conversation on an unextraordinary day.

“I’m afraid I do not have good news. Your mother went through surgery about two hours ago. I tried calling you back, but your phone went straight to voicemail, so I assumed you were in class.”

“Yes, Biology, and we were doing a lab, but what is your news? Did the surgery go okay?”

“The good news is your mother is alive.”

“But, there is bad news. Bring it on.” I looked at the tender roses, with their silky petals, firm stems, and sharp, threatening thorns.

“Your mother is not dead. But when the anesthesia wore off, she never woke up. She’s in a coma, Kassie, and the doctors keep saying that she might never wake up.”

Without taking a breath or even comprehending the reality of a coma, I shot back, “My mother is a fighter. She will wake up. I know she will. She has to wake up for me. She can’t just leave me. She can’t just abandon my father and me. Not like this. Not without saying goodbye. Where’s my father? I have to talk with him. Why don’t you let me speak with him?”

“Kassie, he hasn’t left your mother’s side.” “

“Please, let me speak to him. You’re upsetting me.”

“He is fast asleep in the chair next to your mother’s bed. He will not let go of her hand. He is in the same position he was in this afternoon. Kassie, you’ll be fine. It’s late here. Just call me back tomorrow. I promise you’ll be able to talk with him.”

“Don’t let me down Nurse Claire. I’m counting on you.”

“I’m counting on you too. Stay calm and focused. Nothing out of the norm.”

“Got it Nurse Claire. Talk to you tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

The surreal situation floated over me like an airstream. Tears barely leaked out of my eyes. Sixth period started. The blank look in my eyes made me look tired. A few acquaintances asked if I was okay, and I blew