Golf-India-Romeo-Lima Ch. 06

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This 6th chapter tells if Chris managed to get up and on her feet again.

If you think that romance is limited to hetero relationships or couples this story may be not for you. I beg to differ. Therefore this part involves lesbian as well as hetero love making.

I am very thankful for the help of my editors Dale and LaRascasse.

You really displayed patience. Thank you so much!

I wish you an entertaining read.

Πανδώ⚢α

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Golf-India-Romeo-Lima - Chap. 6:

Resurrection

"I understood myself only after I destroyed myself. And only in the process of fixing myself, did I know who I really was."

- Sade Andria Zabala

My brain rebooted.

Slowly and on tiptoe my consciousness returned and I batted my eyelashes. I could not see any horned demon and the environment did not look like as if I was locked up in a Hieronymus Bosch painting.

Also there were no harps sounding and no angels chanting Hosanna.

I dodged Grim Reaper's scythe for this time. Looking up to the ceiling I saw it was painted white and a sterile ceiling lamp was a bright glare above me. This was obviously a hospital room. But I was not yet aware of how much of me actually had been able to dodge the scythe.

I felt like I was tightly packed into cotton wool. Everything that reached my senses appeared like it was dulled by foam. I felt no pain. I tried to move my fingers. They worked. I did the toes check. Positive.

Thank God!

Something was completely weird though. I did not panic. I was doing my checkup with complete awareness that I might have broken my spine or whatever; but I went through the main functions, as if I was checking someone else or only an engine.

Weird too that I could not turn over at all. It took a while to understand that I laid like in a cast that was perfectly attached to my body. Packed tightly like a sardine in a can. I saw a round device hanging on a wire from a gallop above me. It was very close to my hand so I could reach it. I pressed the button and a ping sounded outside the room.

Soon after, an elderly nurse came to look for me. "Oh, you are awake. How do you feel?"

I tried to answer but my tongue did not work the way I intended to. It was glued to my palatine.

"I'll give you some water," the nurse said and after some sips out of a feeding cup she handled to me, my tongue worked better.

"I'm not yet sure. I feel strange."

She nodded. "You're getting an infusion," she pointed at the stand near my bed. "Morphia."

I saw a bag with liquid hanging from the stand and a long tube led to a needle which was poked into the back of my hand. If they got this stuff out of their poison cabinet it meant I had some serious shit going on. But it explained my dullness.

"What happened?"

"Well, the details the physician will discuss with you. All I can tell you so far is, that you have a ventral crack along one of your vertebra, but fortunately it did not collapse so you will recover. You just have to lay still until the bone has healed. You will be the same as before when you're healed. You were really, really lucky. Besides that, the injuries are only a concussion, bruises and burns. But don't worry, everything will be fine again."

I let the news sink into my consciousness which took a bit as everything was dulled. It seemed as if my guardian angel had worked for some extra hours.

"So far I understand. How long will I have to lay this way?"

"For a few weeks. Oh, you had a visitor while you were non-sentient, Mr. Richard Walsh. Shall I call someone for you'?"

"Richy! If you're in trouble, he's the one!" I thought.

"And how long already?" I asked while I thought about, whom else to call; but I dropped everyone. Richy was the only one I would need and the only one I wanted to see right now. "No one else to call, thank you. Just call Mr. Walsh, please."

She nodded: "He left his number to call when you're awake. You were out for four days and today is Wednesday about nine pm. If you are hungry, I can bring you something, shall I?"

Strange enough, I was not hungry. "No thanks," I only wanted to sleep again. For the next three weeks if possible. The nurse left and I closed my eyes.

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I woke up because someone touched my hand. Opening my eyes I saw Richy sitting on a chair next to my bed.

"Welcome back," he looked at me. "How are you?"

"Fine, shall we have a walk?" I croaked. "After I had a sip of water of course."

He fed me with some water and grinned, "It's bad weather today. Another day with pleasure."

"I'll take you up on that. Have you heard anything about my bike?"

Richy scratched the nape of his neck and looked as if he had bitten into a lemon: "Guess we'll have a nice beer from your bike soon."

"You mean...?"

"Yep. Scrap metal. It's only good for cans now. It hit a tree and is totally wrecked. I have borrowed the van from the 'Base' and brought it to my garage, so no worries. But I see no way it could ever be repaired. There's simply no part not bent. Even the engine has a crack and leaks oil."

Somehow I did not care much. It was a piece of news to me like any other. This stuff dripping into my veins did an incredible job. I understood everything but I just did not care. I nodded slightly and took a deep breath. Spending so much efforts to built her up, I should be crying a river now. I just did not. Somehow I disliked this side effect more and more.

"Pity," I just said.

Richy looked at me as if he was talking to an alien. He did not know that I was so high, I could shake hands with the aliens probably and he did not understand why I took it that cool.

He shrugged: "It really is. I have to go but I'll see you tomorrow. There's someone waiting outside. Fancy another visitor?"

I turned my head towards him as far as I could. "Someone is waiting outside? Who is it?"

"Someone who's not sure if you'd like to see her: Sasha," he scratched his nape again.

That was much more than a surprise. Although I had made the decision to talk to her, now everything was somehow different. I felt uncertain knowing she was just a few steps away. Closer than she had been for so long. Though further away than I ever wanted her to be. I felt insecure and frightened although my emotions only reached me through a haze. But I could not run away this time and I did not want to, as I had already run for much too long.

"Yes, I think so," I answered with a deep breath.

"Good idea, in my humble opinion," Richy nodded, "I'll tell her. Keep a stiff upper lip, Chris. See you."

He winked encouragingly and left. A deep breath later Sasha entered the room and came to my bed. She had a card plate with her from the bakery. The one which had been our bakery once.

"Hey Chris. I'm sorry it's this way we meet again," she tried to smile.

"I'm with you. I'm glad you are here though. Sit down."

She took her place on the same chair as Richy did before and showed me the card board.

"You still like cherry cake, do you?" She looked nervous somehow, on the other hand slightly relieved.

Moreover she looked so much like the girl I had been so deeply in love with and I wondered how I might feel about her, if I were not plugged into this bag with 'idle emotions' in it.

I looked at her from the corner of my eyes. "I'm really glad you're here. But I am beyond good and evil somehow. They put something in my water, I'm convinced."

She nodded slightly, smiling and took my hand: "Don't worry. First of all, you have to recover. Then everything else will be fine in its time. How about some cake?"

She fed me some cake and stayed for quite a while. We did not talk much, neither did we touch on sore topics. I was happy about her visit. She did not hate me nor had she put me down. However she had meant the cherry cake - if it had a special meaning - it made me remembering how I saw her the first time with a card plate like this and took her gesture as a good sign. I wanted to.

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The next weeks were hard; really rock hard. My medication was changed to something lighter and I began to feel like myself again. But it let me feel the pain too. Anyway I preferred to be able to feel real emotions, even if they were not pleasant.

I was wrecked, and the pieces scattered around were not only from flesh and blood. I had a lot of time to think while forced to lay quietly and could not escape myself.

Looking down at the bottom of my soul, I found all the things I had buried there. A lot I was not proud of, and a lot I had to heal, like my broken bone and bruises. But the rest would not heal by itself like a bruise would. It had not for ages and it would not until I could face it. I had gotten a second chance and I understood that I had to seize it.

Maybe fate had kicked my ass to make me think? If so, I should think and get these things fixed once and for all. These were unpleasant thoughts I felt I had avoided for too long already.

The only time I was saved from thinking about it were the hours when I had visitors. Richy or Sasha visited me daily. On the weekend Rose and Richy came together and it was a pleasure to see them both. Rose had lost some of her thorns. While she was with him she appeared noticeably softer. In the same way as he had changed. If he talked to her, his tongue was not as sharp and ironic as I was used to. They made a wonderful couple and I was happy to see them.

I was even happier each time Sasha came around. She let me feel that she cared about me, and her care let me feel the most soothing and consoling emotions I had felt for quite a while.

Eventually, the cast was removed. I was so happy about it until I found out what had happened to me. Laying for weeks had turned my flesh into pudding while my backbone was stiff as a stick. In addition my blood circulation had gone on vacation. The first time a nurse tried to sit me up, I nearly passed out.

But with each attempt and each day it became better. I got a wheelchair to get around and some days after I faced my torturer the first time. A man of probably 40 years, stout, athletic and strong.

Mr. Jenson was my physiotherapist and I learned to hate him. Each time after he was done with me, I felt like dying. There was not a single muscle that did not ache. I felt muscles that I had no idea they even existed, burning with pain.

But it helped. I could sit for longer, rise longer and I started to learn how to walk again. First only using crutches but soon without for some steps. I had to rely on the wheelchair less and less and I was thankful that I was able to heal; I was better every day and every step, although it was a steep path, paved with pain, sweat, and tears.

Watching my progress, Sasha was probably even happier than me. Each day it came closer that I would be allowed to leave the hospital again. We both knew we would have to become more serious as my release day approached. But inside the walls of the hospital we applied a kind of silent agreement to postpone it.

Finally the day of my discharge arrived. Richy took me home in his car. He had the keys I had given him, with him. He should have a look if I had switched out the iron and to care for my flowers besides.

I did not remember that my staircase was that steep. Richy was sweetly caring and patient while he helped me upstairs. I was thinking how much Rose was responsible for his caring side being revealed.

Surprise!

As we had entered my flat I was welcomed by them. They had made it a "Welcome-home" party room. Rose and Sasha had cooked and the table was nicely decorated. It smelled so tasty.

How long had I been on hospital food? Gorgeous girls!

A big 'Welcome home' was hanging across the living room, made from big colored letters hanging on a thread. I admit I was a bit disappointed at first, that Richy was the only one to meet me. Only now I did understand their intention and I could not fight my eyes tearing up.

Rose and Sasha hugged and kissed me and welcomed me. Only after they let me breathe again, could I find the way to the table and have a seat.

Their lovely surprise was overwhelming and we had a wonderful dinner together. It felt good to be home again. I felt much better being welcomed by my friends. Unfortunately I was still weak and got tired much too soon. Rose and Sasha sent me to rest and started to clean up while Richy was attentive that I would not stumble on my way.

I had left the bath and already was laying in my bed, as I heard the door close. I thought they had all left and did not want to disturb me. But after a while I heard nails scratching on my door.

"Shh, Chris? Are you sleeping?"

I recognized Sasha's voice. "No, come right in."

She did and sat down at the edge of my bed. "They did not want to disturb you and left. You must be tired. I just wanted to ask if you need anything?"

"Not tired, just exhausted. I'm too thrilled to sleep after such a lovely surprise. Thank you," I smiled.

"You are welcome. Do you want some company or do you want to rest?"

I reached out for her hand and looked up to her face. "I have so much I need to apologize for. So much to explain. I feel embarrassed and ashamed because I was such an idiot. I cannot forgive myself for all the things I said to you; every time I insulted you. Most of all I'm ashamed about my deeds after you were gone. You have no idea."

"It's alright, Chris. It's just water under the bridge. Forget about it."

I shook my head: "No, not this time. All those things I didn't want to handle, I swept under the carpet for too long. I was lucky to get a second chance and I don't intend to waste it. Most of all I hope you will be able to forgive me. I hope that you might even help me."

Sasha looked at me with an earnest face: "Okay, if you are serious about talking now; let's talk. I don't understand why you did what you did. I don't even know what you did, but I heard some rumors. I noticed that you can be an unbearable bitch! So help me understand why."

I heaved a sigh: "I will. You were right. I was jealous. Much more than I can say. But I think even more I could not stand the idea of being put down and to be not loved like I was. I wanted to be the one, the one and only, you know? I had much time to think about it and I think it's because of my father. I never got over it and it makes me so vulnerable. And it made me act aggressively... and stupidly."

Sasha took my hand and nodded understandingly.

Her reaction empowered me to go on: "I know now Sasha, I will have to do something about it. I made up my mind to get professional help. I will begin a therapy to work it out it because I don't think I can handle it on my own."

She nodded again: "I agree. I had this idea always but you denied so resolutely that I had second thoughts. You are wrong. I did not stop feeling for you. That made it so painful to leave but I could not stand it anymore. But the one and only? You are the girl I love most of all. But I love Manuel as much. Nothing I could ever change, even if I intended to."

"That's why I did my best to kick your ass at each opportunity. I'm really sorry. I wanted all of you and exclusive," I shrugged. "Sounds strange because I lost it all."

Sasha shook her head and was silent for a while. Then she spoke up again: "You remember that day at the library? I wanted to say hello and to talk to you again. I did not want to let it end this way. I did not want to let it end at all. You went away as if I was the devil. I cried as you were gone. I could not imagine what I had done to make you hate me so much."

"Sasha, I never did hate you. I was jealous and therefore I hated myself. That's how it was. I could not look you in the eye there. I was too ashamed of myself."

She caressed my hand and sighed thoughtful. "It is strange, Chris, but I really love you both, you know? I love you sincerely and deeply. How much I do, I only knew after I had lost you. And now I know how much I still do. But I love Manuel too, not any more or less; just differently. The day we were on the boat all together was the craziest but happiest day of my life. It was so awesome I can't explain. Since that day I have wanted every day to be like that."

"You love the both of us. I don't understand how it could work."

She chuckled with a slight note of bitterness: "It did not, as we found out, uh? Seriously, I don't know how it would work; because I have no idea how love works. Do you? I just feel it. I have no idea what to do. I only know I am not happy if I'm not with you and with Manuel it is the same. He is Mr. Right E.T. for me and... in addition sexy." She grinned ajar: "I don't know what to do."

I shrugged. "Neither do I."

"You're mad at him, aren't you?"

I shrugged again: "If you go to your former room you find a sandbag hanging there with his face on it. I had beaten the hell out of him more than once."

Sasha looked at me chewing her lower lip. "No one needs an enemy like Chuckeline Norris..."

I had to giggle: "Yeah, I can imagine. But as hard I tried, I could not stop - no, I don't hate him. Although I held him responsible for our breaking up, I actually could not manage to hate him." I shrugged thoughtfully: "Dunno why."

Sasha let herself lay down next to me, still holding my hand: "He thought about paying you a visit. But he thought it would be not a good idea. He is of the opinion, that you were successful with hating him and would like to kick his head in."

"I wouldn't. Besides, I am not in any condition to kick anything in; so he's safe for now."

She smirked: "Good to know. Maybe I'll tell him. I should call him anyway, except you'd like me to leave?"

I looked at her with blatant surprise: "You wanna stay?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, very much. I'll just call him so that he won't get the city police searching for me, right? I'll be back in a minute." She rose from my bed and left the room.

I was not sure if this was the right thing to do. I had a thousand 'ifs' and 'hows' and "whats" in my mind. But it felt right. Being with Sasha again, right now, right here, felt like the only right thing to be doing. Not because I was afraid to be alone but simply wanted someone to be with me. Someone who would make me stop thinking.

No, it was exactly Sasha I wanted to be with. It had been a long time since I felt all right. I knew there was not yet something like healing in sight for me, but the wasting emptiness inside of me - which I could not fill. Even with all these countless encounters I have had during the last month - I seemed to finally be filled again. I began to hope that I might get another second chance.

Sasha returned eventually after little more than a minute. She had changed into her nightgown and slipped under my blankets. It made me think that she had decided to stay. She smiled: "Manuel sends you his greetings and best wishes for your recovery."

I nodded and as she reached for my hand, I took hers and we interlaced our fingers. "Do you remember the 'Pretty Reckless' concert?"

"Of course. That was so perfect. The best present ever!"

"It was gorgeous," I nodded. "I could not see enough of you. How you danced and let yourself go and how happy you were. I can't forget your looks at me. I thought I would love you for forever. You were so happy and so beautiful. I thought you were shining like the sun among the other people who were no brighter than stars. During the last month I would have died for such a glance from you."

"Thank you but I am still beautiful," she corrected me with a chuckle. "I guess you will; well, if you don't run away like in the library and become a bitch again - I will probably look at you a lot more." She craned her neck and pecked my lips. "Sleep tight."

"You too," I held her hand tight. Her kiss was short but it made me feel. Not a butterfly explosion in my stomach but like a slight warm feeling preceding it might feel. It felt like a new dawn that was keeping the promise that everything could become roses again if I would seriously engage. I still had no idea what everything could mean in this case.