55 Ymiden, 724
.
It was hot this afternoon. Dangerously hot. People were coming into the clinic left and right complaining about weakness, dizziness and nausea. The likely culprit for these symptoms was heat stroke, a condition categorised by the overheating of the body. It varied between races as some were more sensitive to the temperature than others, but heat stroke was not prejudiced in who it chose to harm.
Fortunately, the clinic was stable in terms of its temperature and humidity, wavering between chilly and comfortable. Kotton was standing beside one of his patient's beds in the large room that kept those who were awaiting surgery or had just come out of one. He tugged the blanket so it covered more of his patient's body, minding her comfort since she had complained of feeling a cold breeze.
"Thank you, young man."
He nodded his head before grabbing a few additional pillows for her to prop herself up on. She would need to eat soon, and she could only do that sitting up. He placed one behind her head and one under her knees. He knew elderly patient's often suffered from aches and pains in their joints and wanted to ensure she was as comfortable as she could be.
What meal would you like today, Merdrith? We have cooked potatoes dressed in olive oil and rosemary or braised turkey served with wild rice."
Merdrith gave a wet cough. She had just undergone surgery for a lung condition she had been suffering from for arcs. "Potatoes if I could," she said. "Though, I don't want any rosemary. It gets stuck in my teeth."
He noted her preference and would let the cook know. Right after he pivoted to relay her request, a withering and wrinkled hand gently grasped the sleeve of his coat. He turned back to her. Perhaps she had other requests and he had erroneously forgotten to ask her.
"Don't leave me," she mumbled. Her eyelids were still droopy, a side effect of the pain medication she had been given for her operation. "I don't want to be alone yet."
Kotton smiled and pulled the stool nearest to him closer to her bed. He still needed to put in her meal request though, so he grabbed the closest, most available nurse and debriefed them about the situation. There was an exchange of head nods before Kotton was able to give his full attention back to Merdrith.
"You remind me of my eldest son. Oh, what a handsome young lad he was."
A smile started to spread across his face once again before her last comment made him pause. His mind had to process what she had said. Why had she used the past tense? He didn't want to stir up any unpleasant memories by coming out right and asking what happened to her son, so he chose a less direct path.
"I bet he was. I mean, there's only a few of us out there with such voluptuous brown hair, right?" He gave a soft chuckle. He was still testing the waters as to what her humour was like whilst indirectly pressing her for any additional detail she wished to share on the subject.
"Yes, he had a similar haircut as you do too. Always trying to push those bangs out of the way so he could see. He'd be fifty three arcs this month had it not been for the accident."
Kotton took a hearty swallow and practically choked as it forced itself from its dry mouth into his throat. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said with sincerity, moving even closer to Merdrith so she wouldn't feel so estranged from him.
"It's fine, dear. It happened more than ten arcs ago. You just happened to remind me of him is all."
"Well I'm glad I could give you some happy memories." He was flattered to give such a lovely old woman a positive memory, but per his usual thought pattern, he circled back with a smidgeon of doubt in his response. "They were happy memories, weren't they?"
Merdrith gave a soft chuckle, followed by another wet cough. This one didn't seem as deep as the first which gave Kotton some ease that she was healing and not getting worse since her surgery.
"Of course, lad. They were all good memories."
Then she began to cry. At first it was just a singular tear that shed itself down her cheek. He hadn't noticed it at first and wondered if she hadn't either. But then the tears came more forcefully and in larger numbers.
Kotton moved even closer to her and offered her his hand. He wasn't about to invade her personal space with a hug if that was not what she desired. He respected boundaries, but that didn't keep him from wishing to embrace her.
Merdrith grabbed his hand and gave it a hearty squeeze before using her other to wipe away her tears. Kotton quickly turned around to the nearest bedside table and found a box of gauze. It would have to do for what he intended. He handed her a few pieces to which she dutifully used them to dab at her eyes.
"Thank you," she said in a whisper before feigning a smile.
Kotton had to look away for a second to make sure he wouldn't start crying. But once he felt he was in the clear, he quickly turned back to her and suggested something.
Would you like to hear a story?" he asked, hinting at a smile so as to make hers seem more real. Laughter was contagious, so why couldn't smiling be too?
"I would love that, dear."
So Kotton began to share a fun, lighthearted tale about a young boy who had been raised by squirrels. “Being abandoned by your parents isn’t great, but that is the only sad part of this story. Since after being left alone in the woods at five years old, young-” he wracked his mind for a name. Thinking on the spot was difficult for him. He was always better at writing than speaking since with writing, there was always the option to review what you’ve written and make edits or adjustments. Speaking didn’t give you such luxury. But he was sharing a story verbally so he needed to utilise impromptu and it's fast and irregulated randomness. as a friend. A name stuck out to him during his two to three minute venture inside his mind: Atticus. He had once known an Atticus and coincidentally, the guy had always seemed a little… squirrely. “-Atticus,” he announced like he had claimed victory. “Since being left alone in the woods, young Atticus had replaced his fear with contentedness alongside the redwood trees and the leaves of the bright yellow flowers from the Cavernous Sundrop. The fauna of the forest took a liking to him, but that wasn’t all. The flora were also very kind to such an innocent soul. Specifically, a family of squirrels. They took him under their wing on day two of his being abandoned. They taught him how to dig holes to bury acorns, how to climb trees, and how to stuff as many berries as possible in his mouth.”
Merdrith chuckled at that. And, since laughter was contagious, it made Kotton chuckle too.
“But, I should let you know now that these weren’t just average squirrels. They were flying squirrels.”
Merdrith’s eyes grew large and she quickly put a hand to her mouth to stifle the gasp she was about to utter. Kotton mimicked her expression though not with malicious intent. He, too, was surprised to learn about this, for he was sharing this story like he was another audience member; he didn’t know what was going to happen next, he was simply pulling ideas out of his rear as they manifested. Like a fart, but fortunately so much better smelling.
“So, it’s only natural that they tried to teach young Atticus how to fly and from high branches nonetheless! The squirrels would pick the highest of heights to perch and then they would fall from them before flourishing their winged hides. Now, Atticus may be young, but he wasn’t naive. He tried to fly, but not at such great heights. He didn’t want to fall and make himself dinner for the mushrooms on the forest floor. And after a few attempts, and many falls, he realised that flying wasn’t for him. The squirrels didn’t care; they were okay with his decision to not fly. They still treated him like family and gave him all the berries and leaves and acorns he wanted.”
Merdrith coughed loudly. It was still a dry cough. “What happened to him?”
Kotton’s face burst into such a glorious smile. “He thrived,” he said. “Family isn’t defined by appearance or race or ancestry. It isn’t determined by blood or species. He grew up with the squirrels, ate, scavenged, explored and lived.”
Merdrith’s eyes were drooping even more at this point. She had been through a lot so it was no doubt she was tired. She hadn’t even the energy to respond before she quickly fell asleep hearing the end of his tale.
“Sleep well and recover, Merdrith,” Kotton whispered, a smile still adhered to his face. He patted her wrinkly hand before leaving her to dream of young boys and squirrels.
Fortunately, the clinic was stable in terms of its temperature and humidity, wavering between chilly and comfortable. Kotton was standing beside one of his patient's beds in the large room that kept those who were awaiting surgery or had just come out of one. He tugged the blanket so it covered more of his patient's body, minding her comfort since she had complained of feeling a cold breeze.
"Thank you, young man."
He nodded his head before grabbing a few additional pillows for her to prop herself up on. She would need to eat soon, and she could only do that sitting up. He placed one behind her head and one under her knees. He knew elderly patient's often suffered from aches and pains in their joints and wanted to ensure she was as comfortable as she could be.
What meal would you like today, Merdrith? We have cooked potatoes dressed in olive oil and rosemary or braised turkey served with wild rice."
Merdrith gave a wet cough. She had just undergone surgery for a lung condition she had been suffering from for arcs. "Potatoes if I could," she said. "Though, I don't want any rosemary. It gets stuck in my teeth."
He noted her preference and would let the cook know. Right after he pivoted to relay her request, a withering and wrinkled hand gently grasped the sleeve of his coat. He turned back to her. Perhaps she had other requests and he had erroneously forgotten to ask her.
"Don't leave me," she mumbled. Her eyelids were still droopy, a side effect of the pain medication she had been given for her operation. "I don't want to be alone yet."
Kotton smiled and pulled the stool nearest to him closer to her bed. He still needed to put in her meal request though, so he grabbed the closest, most available nurse and debriefed them about the situation. There was an exchange of head nods before Kotton was able to give his full attention back to Merdrith.
"You remind me of my eldest son. Oh, what a handsome young lad he was."
A smile started to spread across his face once again before her last comment made him pause. His mind had to process what she had said. Why had she used the past tense? He didn't want to stir up any unpleasant memories by coming out right and asking what happened to her son, so he chose a less direct path.
"I bet he was. I mean, there's only a few of us out there with such voluptuous brown hair, right?" He gave a soft chuckle. He was still testing the waters as to what her humour was like whilst indirectly pressing her for any additional detail she wished to share on the subject.
"Yes, he had a similar haircut as you do too. Always trying to push those bangs out of the way so he could see. He'd be fifty three arcs this month had it not been for the accident."
Kotton took a hearty swallow and practically choked as it forced itself from its dry mouth into his throat. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said with sincerity, moving even closer to Merdrith so she wouldn't feel so estranged from him.
"It's fine, dear. It happened more than ten arcs ago. You just happened to remind me of him is all."
"Well I'm glad I could give you some happy memories." He was flattered to give such a lovely old woman a positive memory, but per his usual thought pattern, he circled back with a smidgeon of doubt in his response. "They were happy memories, weren't they?"
Merdrith gave a soft chuckle, followed by another wet cough. This one didn't seem as deep as the first which gave Kotton some ease that she was healing and not getting worse since her surgery.
"Of course, lad. They were all good memories."
Then she began to cry. At first it was just a singular tear that shed itself down her cheek. He hadn't noticed it at first and wondered if she hadn't either. But then the tears came more forcefully and in larger numbers.
Kotton moved even closer to her and offered her his hand. He wasn't about to invade her personal space with a hug if that was not what she desired. He respected boundaries, but that didn't keep him from wishing to embrace her.
Merdrith grabbed his hand and gave it a hearty squeeze before using her other to wipe away her tears. Kotton quickly turned around to the nearest bedside table and found a box of gauze. It would have to do for what he intended. He handed her a few pieces to which she dutifully used them to dab at her eyes.
"Thank you," she said in a whisper before feigning a smile.
Kotton had to look away for a second to make sure he wouldn't start crying. But once he felt he was in the clear, he quickly turned back to her and suggested something.
Would you like to hear a story?" he asked, hinting at a smile so as to make hers seem more real. Laughter was contagious, so why couldn't smiling be too?
"I would love that, dear."
So Kotton began to share a fun, lighthearted tale about a young boy who had been raised by squirrels. “Being abandoned by your parents isn’t great, but that is the only sad part of this story. Since after being left alone in the woods at five years old, young-” he wracked his mind for a name. Thinking on the spot was difficult for him. He was always better at writing than speaking since with writing, there was always the option to review what you’ve written and make edits or adjustments. Speaking didn’t give you such luxury. But he was sharing a story verbally so he needed to utilise impromptu and it's fast and irregulated randomness. as a friend. A name stuck out to him during his two to three minute venture inside his mind: Atticus. He had once known an Atticus and coincidentally, the guy had always seemed a little… squirrely. “-Atticus,” he announced like he had claimed victory. “Since being left alone in the woods, young Atticus had replaced his fear with contentedness alongside the redwood trees and the leaves of the bright yellow flowers from the Cavernous Sundrop. The fauna of the forest took a liking to him, but that wasn’t all. The flora were also very kind to such an innocent soul. Specifically, a family of squirrels. They took him under their wing on day two of his being abandoned. They taught him how to dig holes to bury acorns, how to climb trees, and how to stuff as many berries as possible in his mouth.”
Merdrith chuckled at that. And, since laughter was contagious, it made Kotton chuckle too.
“But, I should let you know now that these weren’t just average squirrels. They were flying squirrels.”
Merdrith’s eyes grew large and she quickly put a hand to her mouth to stifle the gasp she was about to utter. Kotton mimicked her expression though not with malicious intent. He, too, was surprised to learn about this, for he was sharing this story like he was another audience member; he didn’t know what was going to happen next, he was simply pulling ideas out of his rear as they manifested. Like a fart, but fortunately so much better smelling.
“So, it’s only natural that they tried to teach young Atticus how to fly and from high branches nonetheless! The squirrels would pick the highest of heights to perch and then they would fall from them before flourishing their winged hides. Now, Atticus may be young, but he wasn’t naive. He tried to fly, but not at such great heights. He didn’t want to fall and make himself dinner for the mushrooms on the forest floor. And after a few attempts, and many falls, he realised that flying wasn’t for him. The squirrels didn’t care; they were okay with his decision to not fly. They still treated him like family and gave him all the berries and leaves and acorns he wanted.”
Merdrith coughed loudly. It was still a dry cough. “What happened to him?”
Kotton’s face burst into such a glorious smile. “He thrived,” he said. “Family isn’t defined by appearance or race or ancestry. It isn’t determined by blood or species. He grew up with the squirrels, ate, scavenged, explored and lived.”
Merdrith’s eyes were drooping even more at this point. She had been through a lot so it was no doubt she was tired. She hadn’t even the energy to respond before she quickly fell asleep hearing the end of his tale.
“Sleep well and recover, Merdrith,” Kotton whispered, a smile still adhered to his face. He patted her wrinkly hand before leaving her to dream of young boys and squirrels.