Chapter Twenty-Eight

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The second day of the work week came as Doug cradled his pillow. His body still ached from the passing of the virus. So many fluids flowed from him, Doug thought he would soon shrivel up. As he drank more and more liquids, warm soups, and some solids in the form of crackers, he felt the life return to him.

Laying in this darkened room, near dawn, his memory foam mattress supporting him tenderly as a nurturing figure caressing his hair as he placed his head on their lap. As the sky began to lighten with hints of crimson and orange speckled into the sky, blending and becoming one before the glorious orb providing life and warmth to the planet crested the horizon.

As the light remained dim, Doug's eye moved toward his nightstand as a light blinked rapidly from his cell phone. Quickly, his mind moved to Isabella. Unable to see her for a few days, a slight sadness washed over him before being replaced with curiosity if she contacted him. Reaching over to the phone, he tapped the screen to see what notifications remained. Only the mocking symbol of a mobile game met his eyes, no texts nor missed calls present on his phone.

Sorrow glided over him as he saw this. Loneliness as thick as oatmeal filled his heart as a deep ache penetrated his chest. Thinking of Isabella, once more, he smiled as he thought of her face, not yet filled with deep grooves, thin lines marking her mouth and her forehead, the wisdom of time passing.

Sitting up in bed, Doug checked the feeling of his body. The stiffness from the previous days passed as his limbs felt lighter, his head, which pounded, ached and swelled, now felt clearer. Debating on returning to work today, Doug allowed himself time to fully measure his body's capabilities. The room swayed slightly as he remained seated yet did not cause him to fall. Deciding against infecting patients at the hospital or other staff, Doug laid back down in bed before reaching for his phone and calling his department head to cancel his shift.

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Moments after the sun crested over the horizon, Isabella woke to birds singing, a peaceful quality flowing through her. As she sat up, her mind passed over her dream. A trip through a distant and foreign land, feelings of connectedness, of love. Isabella swooned as they captivated her, taking her into a sweet bliss as reality confirmed the same feelings, being lost in the revelry until her body melted into reality.

Feeling her body tremble, she felt the familiar sensation of warmth and passion flow through her. Becoming wet, Isabella felt her nipples harden, small pinpricks poking out of her shirt. Passing her hand on her stomach, while her other hand passed over her nipples, Isabella felt the cascading sensations erupt within her. Thundering in her chest beat melodiously as she neared her panty line.

Surgically, she passed under her lace, sky blue, panties through the small tuff of pubic hair, to the fount of moisture coalescing within her. Putting a solitary finger inside herself, she moaned as an image of Doug passed over her mind. Becoming wetter, Isabella pressed deeper before passing her finger over her clitoris. Stabilizing it with two fingers, she rubbed tenderly, yet firmly, her hips swaying with the promise of bliss, the radiation of ecstasy.

Before she could continue, further, she noticed the stinging emanating in the area. A heightened need to use pee caused her to slow her gyrations. Her hips stilled as she sighed a deep breath. The urinary tract infection returned to the forefront of her mind. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed a bottle of cranberry juice sitting on her nightstand, a purchase along with her prescription to help purge the infection from her body, before swallowing a deep draft of the tangy fluid.

Making her way to her bathroom, Isabella acquired the small pill bottle of her prescribed medication before popping one into her mouth and making way to the toilet. Sitting there for many moments, only a few trickles came out as the chalky pill lodged in her throat. Many fleeting moments of the pill dissolving in her throat, bringing back up the contents and taste to her tongue as annoyance grew within her belly. Disgruntled and sexually frustrated, she cleaned herself up before moving to prepare for her shift.

Passing her phone on the way out, she glanced at the time on her stove before glancing back at the phone. The answering machine blinked a couple of messages, but Isabella looked at the small piece of paper with another's handwriting. Doug's number shouted out to her, asking her to answer the summons, pleading for their communication to be rekindled.

Taking a few steps toward it, Isabella, thought against her instincts to reach out given the time available for a conversation, just mere moments. Grabbing the small bit of paper etched with Doug's number, Isabella decided to call him during her break to plan a lunch with him. Thoughts of running into Doug in the oncology department or meeting him for lunch pulled her outside the door. Shaking her head as her brown locks beat against her, Isabella thought of her romance with Doug. How it encaptivated her, how she felt around the man as well as the proximately of their work environment.

Thinking of the work environment troubled her as she drove into work and began her shift. Previously, much earlier in her youth, she learned to avoid such entanglements wherever they lie. Twice she ignored her advice and faced dire consequences in terms of awkwardness at work and, once, an aggressive stalker. After moving her hometown, away from the rural environment towards the sprawling and eloquent architecture of the Charleston, South Carolina, Isabella moved toward peace and control over her life.

Control. Peace. Isabella chuckled to herself as she thought of these things. Failing in acquiring both of these dynamics in her life, struggling under debt and malnourishment, pushing her sons away, Isabella shook her head before noticing she stood at Mr. Daniel's doorway.

Seated near the window, a drastic change from his bed, she peered out the window, ignoring all who summoned him, who attempted to discuss factors he did not care for. An old food tray from dinner, the previous night sat on his nightstand, untouched, the remnants discolored from sitting in the room all night. Despite the condition of the room, no foul smell emanated from within.

Breathing deeply, Isabella approached Mr. Daniels a few feet before stopping out of respect. Taking a few seconds to call out to him, Isabella respected his silence until he spoke.

"You never get used to it." Mr. Daniels said.

"What is that?" Isabella asked.

"Someone close to you leaving you. The absence of their presence. The decay of their memory." He said glancing downward before continuing. "In many ways, I envy those who aren't close to their Other."

"Other?" Isabella asked confused.

Making a dismissive gesture, Henry stated, without looking back, "Just a name I call them. Those lizard people. I turn 81 next week, ya know. Looking back at my life, it is hard to see what good I did here on earth." Glancing back outside, he said in barely a whisper, "Kinda hard to find the good in it all. However," Henry said clearing his throat, "I know one certainty."

"What is that?" Isabella asked in a calm tone, an even silky voice carrying with it all of her tenderness.

"My Other was the closest thing I ever had," Henry said before pausing a few more moments, his voice heavy, and thick with the weight of his recent loss, of his stabbing pain. "I loved it. I don't know if it felt the same, but I just know it was a peaceful soul."

A single, poignant tear flowed down Henry's face as he thought of this. Passing the deep grooves of his face, it blended into his white beard. Isabella watched as he took his time, measuring her bond with her Other, Isabella thought she could understand what Mr. Daniels meant.

This Pligal, so peaceful, regal, yet not royalty, his form radiated connection. Being in the grey form, Isabella fought the desire to embrace him, the part of herself who moved in a foreign land. Separated, yet whole, together and forever connected, the two knew peace when they saw each other before their slumber and death state, respectively.

"I must get back to my rounds, Mr. Daniels. Can we chat later? I would like to know what you know in terms of our bonds to the Others if you are up to it. Also, can you think of any time you felt physical pain close to contact with your Other?"

"Anything child. You are the only one who has ever looked upon me with eyes, which understand what we are going through. I trust you." Henry said glancing back at her slowly as she receded out of the room.

"Talk to you soon," Isabella said with a smile.

Speaking in a hushed tone, Henry said to her before she went out of earshot, "I'll tell you all I know before I go and meet my Other."

Acknowledging this with a nod, Isabella furrowed her eyebrows before seeing Mr. Daniels reach for a couple of unidentified objects near his chair. Making her rounds, Isabella spent some time chatting with Hank and Lucy, while skillfully avoiding Cheryl. Each round, Isabella peeked her head into Henry's room to see him scribbling something down in a notebook. Ignoring any summons, even her own, Henry continued to work as Isabella attempted to as well.

During her break, Isabella hurried to the break room to use a landline there. Acquiring the note in the pocket of her scrubs, Isabella punched in the number to Doug before hearing his wretched, sickly voice.

"Hello?" Doug inquired.

"Oh my, you sound awful?" Isabella said.

"Who is this?" Doug asked in a sharper tone.

"Hmm, guess," Isabella asked playfully.

"The grim reaper and you are finally coming to get me after this sickness." He said theatrically as he could.

"Ha!" Isabella laughed. "No, never. It's Isabella."

"Oh, hey!" Doug answered perking up.

"Do you need anything? You really do sound awful." Isabella asked, her tone shifting to a nurturing one.

"No, I think I have everything I need. I don't want to get you sick. However, I would love to see you soon." Doug said.

"Okay, I will get into my germ-free hamster ball and will be right there." She said, laughing.

"Whatever it takes," Doug said laughing heartily before beginning a violent coughing fit.

With a frown, Isabella listened for him to finish before continuing, "You sure you don't need anything? It really isn't a problem."

"I'm sure. However, I need to take you out again. Would love to see you."

"Well, let's make it happen at the end of the week." Isabella thought as her mind moved to the UTI coursing through her. Reminded of this, she said, "Well, I have to get off here, I need to get back to work. I'll try and call you later or tomorrow. Feel better."

"Thanks, I'll try. Bye Isabella." Doug said.

"Bye-bye." Isabella replied before hanging up the phone.

Finishing her work day, Isabella found Lucy packing up before handing her a stuffed envelope full of writings. She winked as she silently pointed to Mr. Daniel's room. Isabella acknowledged before thinking of the rules around correspondence between patient and employee. Thinking of a slideshow of hospital policies, Isabella remembered this vividly as thick bold letters stood out in her memory: NOT PERMITTED.

Quickly, stuffing the envelope the best she could in her scrubs pocket, Isabella rushed home. Planting the thick packet on her kitchen counter, she made a small dinner before reading a book, laying down to rest and eventually slumber.  

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