Cat's Paw - Part 8 by Zooie
Standard disclaimers apply
Duo POV
“Die, bitch, die!” I cackle, my thumbs furiously pressing
buttons on the Game Cube controller. Heero and I were upgraded to
Free Range Patients as of Monday and are now allowed to roam around
the floor in our wheelchairs -as long as we tell someone where we’re
going. Heero has one of those cool motorized wheelchairs and can get
himself around with the touch of a button, but mine is manual. I guess
I’m supposed to be exercising. Screw that. Pushing wheelchairs
is what candy-stripers are for. I’ll exercise when I don’t
need to sleep fourteen hours a day, thank you very much. [1]
The mobility is a huge improvement over sitting in our room all day
and, even if I do have to take naps with annoying frequency, it’s
well worth the effort. Heero likes it, too. I can tell that he hates
having to use the wheelchair, but hates being stuck in one room even
more. He’s been chipper -for him- ever since we were mechanized.
If only the cops would stop tailing us. You just can’t get
away from them. Every time you think they’re gone, you turn
around and, oh! There they are! They’re leaning against the
wall just as casual as you please, pretending to look everywhere but
at you. It’s really getting on my nerves. I’m considering
bribing a candy-striper to “accidentally” run over a police
man’s foot with my wheelchair. Not that it would hurt very much,
since I’m about as heavy as an anorexic hamster, but it would
make me feel better.
We’d spent our first day getting to know the other patients.
Or rather, I had. Heero had just kind of followed me from room to
room, hovering in the background as I familiarized myself with the
current clientele. There really aren’t that many kids on the
ward right now, thankfully. Out of the hundred available beds, around
forty of them are empty. Still, it took an entire day to visit all
the rooms. While some kids had parents that managed to stay with them
around the clock, others were lonely and craving company. Expecting
this, I’d brought some of my doodle pads and pencils along.
Tic tac toe and Hangman never fail to amuse the younger kids. As for
the older ones, my unending supply of magazines proved an adequate
source of entertainment.
Heero and I had spent the next day watching movies with our new friends
in the mini theater the Winner family had had installed off of the
rec room. It’s really cool. There’s a small movie screen
and a projector and even real movie theater seats. The film selection
is a bit limited -only G movies allowed- but it was fun to relive
all the traditional childhood favorites. I’d missed some of
them the first time around. “Robin Hood” was my newly-discovered
personal favorite. Although he initially denied liking any of them,
under duress Heero admitted that “Mulan” wasn’t
half-bad. Of course, I teased him for the rest of the day about having
a crush on the movie’s heroine. He refused to dignify the accusation
with a response.
Today we’re playing video games. At first I’d been reluctant.
Heero’s hand only just came out of the Ace bandage and his other
is, of course, still encased in that smelly cast. However, he insisted
he could play one-handed. I was dubious, but agreed to play a combat
game with him. It took him a bit to get used to the controller, but
now that he has... I’m losing. Big time. And I have use of both
hands.
“NOOOOOOOOOO!” I dramatically moan. “Not again!
That was my last life! You killed me! I am slain! Time of death, 10:42AM.”
“If it was real, you would only have had one life. You would
have died an hour ago,” Heero says bluntly. His voice is still
that irritating monotone. I’d hoped initially that it was simply
a byproduct of the drugs he was on, but time had proven that to be
a false assumption. He refuses to take anything now besides antibiotics
and then they’re the nondrowsy kind.
“Well! Excuse me for being mortal!” I mutter. To my surprise,
my comment amuses Heero. His lips start to twitch and, although he
fights it, he starts to laugh.
I wish he’d stop. It is beyond a doubt the most disturbing
sound I’ve ever heard. He sounds like a psychotic orangutan
that’s choking to death. I’m getting the idea that Heero
is one of those people who isn’t used to dealing with their
emotions and, when he’s forced to, is not quite sure how to
handle them. The kind of person who needs to practice sneezing just
so it looks natural.
*******
TBC
*******
[1] Duo really should be exercising, even if he’s only just
doing yoga or something...
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