Heart and Soul
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Heart and Soul
His dreary eyes opened slowly, taking in the surroundings of the hospital room washed in the brilliant florescent lights above. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor stirred his senses, bringing him to full awareness within several minutes. His head turned left, looking out the large window into the twilight sky. Turning back, a note was left on his chest. Slowly, his hand reached from his side, and slithered along his chest to the note, opening the folded paper. His eyes adjusted to the narrow distance, as he tried to make out the cursive hand writing: Calvin Marshall. He cocked his head, never hearing such a name, and gave it some thought, only to be interrupted by a slender, as he slowly hobbled into the room, with his cane preceding his footsteps.
“Good evening, my child, how are you feeling?” The man inquired, in a weak, feeble voice.
“I-I suppose I’m feeling better thank you…” the patient paused, confused. He was no “child” being in his late teens, nor was he related o this man in anyway, not that he knew of. Clause began to sit up and listen to the man.
“No need to rise, I understand how tired you are, you need some rest.”
“No, I’m ok.” clutching his chest, trying to soothe the pain of sitting up. “I’d like to go for a walk anyway. Have you heard of someone named Calvin Marshall?”
The old man thought for a moment. “I do believe I have, he should be in the maternity ward about now. How about I give you a hand?” The older gentleman clearly didn’t work at the hospital, but he seemed trustworthy, somewhere in his 70†˜s and dressed in a well tailored, and almost pure white morning suit, he sounded like he knew a thing or two about the person in the note. “Let me help you with your machine.” Entering the room further, and to the bedside, the old man pulled the heart monitor from behind the bed around to the front, where Clause had begun to stand of the bed. Grabbing the monitor and IV stand as a stand, the feeble boy made short steps, the sound of his feet sticking to the surface of the hard tile floor echoed throughout the room as the gentlemen guided him to the door. Spotting his flat cap on a night stand next to the door, he set it snug on his head, before realizing he was completely out of dress.
“Mind turning around for a moment?” Clause inquired. The old man said nothing, and obediently turned around in the door frame to act as a curtain. After a few minutes of rattling and wrestling with the machinery and his own pain, he added the final touch of slinging his black messenger bag over his shoulder, resting over the golden chain of his pocket watch. Tapping the old man on the shoulder as it was time to go.
The elevator ride was rather quite, with the exception of the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. Clause began wondering why he was able to walk so early, sure, he had always been the physically and mentally strong type, but it felt more than that. He felt as though the man had something to do with it. Not only did he give off a very sobering and soothing aura, he felt less pain, and much strength. The thoughts bounced through his mind, as his searched for something to say.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Clause inquired, his eyes locked on the room indicator, but the older man didn’t reply, he just stood there, watching the door.
The door opened, and the two waited for several doctors to walk by who were pushing a gurney before stepping out into the lobby.
“It’s this way.” The elder pointed to the left and began to fetter down the hallway, the boy close behind. Clause became somewhat less patient in the man, now leading them in an almost arbitrary direction, but he had faith in his guidance, despite never meeting the man. Standing in front of a large glass window, Clause peered into the room, where very well organized rows and columns of cradles housed the infants, as his golden eyes scanned the name plates for a Calvin Marshall. Pressing his nose to the glass, and cupping his hands around his eyes, he was just able to make out the name on the tag about the third row in, fifth column. He looked up, observing the new born baby, as he turned about, reaching around in his new world.
“That one is particularly healthy.” The gentlemen noted
“You can tell just by looking?” Clause responded, his eyes glued to the baby, as his heat monitor’s beeping became faster, and more intense.
“Well, I brought him into this world, so I’d know a thing or two…”
“Oh so you are a doctor.”
“Not exactly.”
Calvin was confused, as he now began to take in the changed pace of his monitor. His himself was not at all excited, nor was his alerted in anyway, but his heart was pumping as though he’d seen the living dead. The man in white began to walk off down the corridor.
“H-hey… where are you going? What’s happening?” Clause stammered, the excitement of his heart causing him to stagger.
The man didn’t turn around “What you’re feeling is the excitement a man who was finely able to see his own son.”
“I don’t have a son! Wait!”
“Not you, but the man who gave you his heart.”
The adolescent broke into a run as the older man rounded the corner. Expecting to see him in the next hall, the boy was now awe stricken when he did not see the man in white. He suddenly felt very tired, and pain overwhelmed his body, as he collapsed to looking desperately for the old man, as the soothing feeling disappeared, as if it never existed. His waist gave out as he fell flat onto his throbbing chest and lay sprawled out on the floor, his dreary eyes closing, and his ears shutting out the sound of rushing foot steps.
This is actually the first story in which I thought of a title before I started, and I thought it conveyed the meaning pretty well. Tell me what you think!
His dreary eyes opened slowly, taking in the surroundings of the hospital room washed in the brilliant florescent lights above. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor stirred his senses, bringing him to full awareness within several minutes. His head turned left, looking out the large window into the twilight sky. Turning back, a note was left on his chest. Slowly, his hand reached from his side, and slithered along his chest to the note, opening the folded paper. His eyes adjusted to the narrow distance, as he tried to make out the cursive hand writing: Calvin Marshall. He cocked his head, never hearing such a name, and gave it some thought, only to be interrupted by a slender, as he slowly hobbled into the room, with his cane preceding his footsteps.
“Good evening, my child, how are you feeling?” The man inquired, in a weak, feeble voice.
“I-I suppose I’m feeling better thank you…” the patient paused, confused. He was no “child” being in his late teens, nor was he related o this man in anyway, not that he knew of. Clause began to sit up and listen to the man.
“No need to rise, I understand how tired you are, you need some rest.”
“No, I’m ok.” clutching his chest, trying to soothe the pain of sitting up. “I’d like to go for a walk anyway. Have you heard of someone named Calvin Marshall?”
The old man thought for a moment. “I do believe I have, he should be in the maternity ward about now. How about I give you a hand?” The older gentleman clearly didn’t work at the hospital, but he seemed trustworthy, somewhere in his 70†˜s and dressed in a well tailored, and almost pure white morning suit, he sounded like he knew a thing or two about the person in the note. “Let me help you with your machine.” Entering the room further, and to the bedside, the old man pulled the heart monitor from behind the bed around to the front, where Clause had begun to stand of the bed. Grabbing the monitor and IV stand as a stand, the feeble boy made short steps, the sound of his feet sticking to the surface of the hard tile floor echoed throughout the room as the gentlemen guided him to the door. Spotting his flat cap on a night stand next to the door, he set it snug on his head, before realizing he was completely out of dress.
“Mind turning around for a moment?” Clause inquired. The old man said nothing, and obediently turned around in the door frame to act as a curtain. After a few minutes of rattling and wrestling with the machinery and his own pain, he added the final touch of slinging his black messenger bag over his shoulder, resting over the golden chain of his pocket watch. Tapping the old man on the shoulder as it was time to go.
The elevator ride was rather quite, with the exception of the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. Clause began wondering why he was able to walk so early, sure, he had always been the physically and mentally strong type, but it felt more than that. He felt as though the man had something to do with it. Not only did he give off a very sobering and soothing aura, he felt less pain, and much strength. The thoughts bounced through his mind, as his searched for something to say.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Clause inquired, his eyes locked on the room indicator, but the older man didn’t reply, he just stood there, watching the door.
The door opened, and the two waited for several doctors to walk by who were pushing a gurney before stepping out into the lobby.
“It’s this way.” The elder pointed to the left and began to fetter down the hallway, the boy close behind. Clause became somewhat less patient in the man, now leading them in an almost arbitrary direction, but he had faith in his guidance, despite never meeting the man. Standing in front of a large glass window, Clause peered into the room, where very well organized rows and columns of cradles housed the infants, as his golden eyes scanned the name plates for a Calvin Marshall. Pressing his nose to the glass, and cupping his hands around his eyes, he was just able to make out the name on the tag about the third row in, fifth column. He looked up, observing the new born baby, as he turned about, reaching around in his new world.
“That one is particularly healthy.” The gentlemen noted
“You can tell just by looking?” Clause responded, his eyes glued to the baby, as his heat monitor’s beeping became faster, and more intense.
“Well, I brought him into this world, so I’d know a thing or two…”
“Oh so you are a doctor.”
“Not exactly.”
Calvin was confused, as he now began to take in the changed pace of his monitor. His himself was not at all excited, nor was his alerted in anyway, but his heart was pumping as though he’d seen the living dead. The man in white began to walk off down the corridor.
“H-hey… where are you going? What’s happening?” Clause stammered, the excitement of his heart causing him to stagger.
The man didn’t turn around “What you’re feeling is the excitement a man who was finely able to see his own son.”
“I don’t have a son! Wait!”
“Not you, but the man who gave you his heart.”
The adolescent broke into a run as the older man rounded the corner. Expecting to see him in the next hall, the boy was now awe stricken when he did not see the man in white. He suddenly felt very tired, and pain overwhelmed his body, as he collapsed to looking desperately for the old man, as the soothing feeling disappeared, as if it never existed. His waist gave out as he fell flat onto his throbbing chest and lay sprawled out on the floor, his dreary eyes closing, and his ears shutting out the sound of rushing foot steps.
This is actually the first story in which I thought of a title before I started, and I thought it conveyed the meaning pretty well. Tell me what you think!