When Time Stopped by Zoe Merold

He lied there in the bed, listening to the muffled chaos that seeped through the room’s door from the hospital’s hallways. His head was turned towards the window, which revealed another warm, spring afternoon, with the sun shining into the barren and cold room. It was all just white noise and blurred images though, because he wasn’t really tuned in to anything at the time. The energy to do that had left him long ago, when the treatment had become too much for his aging body, and his mind had begun to fade away. The man didn’t have much strength at all nowadays, nor did he have anything that was worthy of effort in the first place. Earlier in the process, he used to get short bursts of ebullience, instilling in him hope, hope that was only shared by the nurses and doctors that took care of him. He had no one else. But, now he knew; there was no hope for him. He would pass away very soon, quietly and peacefully, in the hospital. There would be no family to hold his hands, to sit by his bed, no one to really say one last goodbye to. Everyone had gone before his body was ready to let him go. Knowing that it wouldn’t bring him any pain was a small comfort of course, but an empty one at that.

A click was heard from the door, causing the man to gently turn his head in its direction. A nurse had walked in. She was young, and looked a bit overworked in her disheveled scrubs and her fraying bun, but she smiled warmly at the man nonetheless.

“Sir, would you like to go outside?” she inquired. “It’s a nice day, so we could go enjoy the park for a bit, and I could really use a break.”

The man faintly smiled back at her. “That sounds like a lovely idea,” he responded, his voice weak but welcoming. The nurse brightened at this. Apparently, she was hoping that would be his answer.

She rolled over the wheelchair that was always handy and sitting against the wall, positioning it so that she could lift the man from the side of the bed, and place him carefully in the seat. The man began to gingerly lift himself from the bed, and the nurse helped him carry his own weight, even when not much of him was left to carry. A dull pain bloomed in the man’s back, but he ignored the familiar sensation. It had been far too long since he had had a good reason to leave that hospital bed, and he wanted to enjoy it as much as he could. Knowing that this could easily be his last chance to go outside before leaving, the man felt that he needed to make the most of this small adventure.

The cordial nurse calmly pushed the wheelchair into the hall, mindful of those who were rushing by to attend to other patients. With a mild amazement, the man watched it all fly by him, the commotion of the world continuing on as his world slowed down, nearing the time when everything would cease to turn for him. He wasn’t the only person though. Many other patients were approaching their end as well. Some knew it, while others had no idea what fate had arranged for them. As these thoughts swam around in the man’s conscience, the pair arrived at the hospital doors, leaving the threshold of sickness, and entering the warmth of direct sunlight. It washed over the man, thawing his frail bones, clearing his bleak thoughts from his head. Closing his eyes, so that he could focus everything on that remarkable feeling of the sun shining on his pale skin, the man felt a pull at the corners of his mouth, and gave into it, allowing a great grin to blossom across his creased face. He cherished every second of it, until they entered the shade beneath a canopy of leaves. Through his eyelids, he saw the light change from the glowing pigment of a warm embrace, to the cool and pleasant tint of nature’s awning. He then opened his eyes, and lifted his chin higher, revealing the beauty of the verdant trees above, with radiant, golden stars shimmering amidst the interlaced leaflets. Once again, the man closed his eyes, each of his weary muscles relaxing as he immersed himself in the serenity around him, except for those in his face. Even if he wanted to, the man could not let his grin leave his visage.

Continuing into the park, the nurse strolled down a path, while carefully pushing the man along. She too had a smile on her face, grateful for a moment away from the stress that clung to every member of the hospital staff. Knowing that they both could use some time outside, she had thought it was a great idea to offer to take this patient to the park across from the building. It was an amazing day, and it would have been such a shame for it to be squandered by staying indoors. Luckily, it wasn’t wasted.

As the two wandered on together, the sound of laughter, a soft jingle of beautiful bells, entwined with the melody of the hidden robins, gradually reached their ears. The man could not think of a more delightful way to spend an afternoon, except for one small thing. He would prefer to be walking on his own, controlling where he went, rather than be sitting in a wheelchair. To stand on his own legs again was a recurring dream of his. The feeling of freedom was indescribable to him, and he wished again and again that he had treasured such things when he still could.

“What is your name young lady?” the man asked, for he had neglected to find out all this time.

“Naudia, sir,” the nurse answered, giggling inside at how he had called her a young lady.

“Well, Miss. Naudia, would you mind terribly if we stopped for a short time?”

“Not at all, is something wrong?” The nurse put down the brakes to keep the wheelchair from moving, and walked around to the front so that she was now in front of the man, crouching down so that they were at eye level.

The man did not respond to her question. He was much too focused on the undertaking ahead of him. As firmly as he could, he grasped the arm rests of the wheelchair in his hands, and then moved his legs, one at a time, into a position that allowed his feet to be planted flat on the ground. He was determined to do this no matter what, and those who had loved him knew very well how stubborn he could be. Ever so slowly, he began to push his weight up and forward with thin, wiry arms, extending his lanky legs as he did so. He had begun to shake, but he forced himself to carry on. Struggling through his great feat of strength, he kept at it until he felt that his arms no longer had anything more to lift up, and that his hands had released the chair behind him. In disbelief, the man dropped his chin to look down, to see that his legs were in fact beneath him. The ground was pressed against the soles of his feet, and he could feel how his legs were now carrying his weight. He was standing. He had done it. After all this time, time spent in a bed, in a small, barren room, he had managed to stand on his own feet. A tear unwillingly spilled from his eyes, as he lifted his head, and beheld the world before him from a new angle, a new perspective. Everything was now in focus. He could now discern the chittering birds themselves, perched in the trees, from the leaping squirrels, gliding from branch to branch. Far in front of him, he could see children playing in the park, the source of the sweet laughter. He could descry the pink flowers of a girl’s dress, and the dinosaur on the shirt of the boy she was sitting with in the mulch. He could see that the women watching over them, smiling lovingly, was wearing sunglasses, and had her long, black hair loosely braided over her shoulder. And, beyond them, he could see cars race past on the street, behind the great trunks of the oaks before him. For so long, his world had been composed of so little, most of it lost in a blur, in the blackness that had taken over much of his sight, while what he could see was dull, washed-out. But suddenly, the man was able to see the vibrant world, that had been hidden from him all this time, the time he had been in that hospital, from atop his own legs. More tears streamed down his face, one that had lost some of its creases and folds, and had gained the lively coloration of a younger man. Not believing what was happening, he carefully lifted one leg from the ground, and took a step. To him, that was the equivalent to being the first man to set foot on the moon. Another step was taken, until he was fully walking, without any assistance, without any stumbling or wavering.

In the furthest depths of his conscience, he thought he had heard a small voice call out to him. He did not register it though, for he was too overjoyed to care. He had a whole world before him to re-explore, and he wasn’t going to waste a single second.

Naudia was gripping the man’s shoulders.

“Sir! What’s happened? Sir, please answer me!” she shouted, desperation creeping into her voice. The man’s body was now slumped forward, limp, and unresponsive to any of her pleas. He could no longer respond to her, no matter how hard Naudia tried to elicit any sign that the man was still there. The man was gone, and he wouldn’t be coming back. Her world had kept turning, the clock had kept spinning, but his had stopped for good.