Congratulations !
You have been awarded points.
Thank you for !
- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Death / Heartbreak / Loss
- Published: 03/25/2014
''Lost in a Kalideoscope Rainbow''
Born 1957, M, from Belfast, United KingdomLost in a kaleidoscope Rainbow
A short story by Will Neill
A light September rain drifted across the highway. I sit transfixed by the colours of light folding into a dreamy rainbow. And as I watch in my moment of awareness the windshield wipers seemed to find the rhythm of my heart beat, all around me transforms to slow motion. On either side drivers scream in silence from their cab's, magnified faces of frustration captured in kaleidoscopes of wet glass. Each emanating a continuous chorus of car horns muted only by my own interior.
I feel bodiless and numb, it was as if I was intruding in my own body, each nerve end tingling to the point of unbearable ache. Somewhere in my head a voice is trying to ask questions, seeking answers that I am unable to give. It has only been fifteen minutes since I left the clinic and still I’m trying to process just what Dr Lawson had said when I ended up in a jam on highway 46. According to the guy on the news channel, a jackknifed semi truck was the problem, and of course the troopers were no where around to sort it out. A helicopter swoops and buzzes overhead sending up water spray and dead leaves, wreaking havoc on my dreamy rainbow that disappears in an instant.
I think about ringing Joe, my husband, but hesitate before I key in his cell number. what I need to tell him should not come from a Telephone call. I need to do this face to face. He won't handle it well, of that I'm sure. So it would be better if he was sitting down and I have my lines rehearsed so it is as least a shock as possible. But I don't know just how to sugar coat to him that half an hour ago I was told I have ovarian cancer, and it's aggressive.
Momentarily I am distracted as an ambulance screams by on the hard shoulder heading towards the head of the jam. I can only assume things are worse than the guy on the news channel has just reported. I try to move my head to get a better view above the cars in-front, but I can only see the red and blue flashing lights fade into the wet distance.
Funny, I always thought when you were dying your whole life would flash before your eye's, but it's not like that, this is different, of course, than dropping from a high building or drowning. This is more clinical, similar to falling but only at millisecond speed, six months to hit the ground. But the outcome being the same-dead!
I decide to call my mum but my fingers tremble with each button I press and I begin to panic about how to start the conversation. How do you talk about every day things then casually drop in that you need to arrange your own funeral. My hand drops the phone before the last digit is entered. it bounces off the passenger seat into the foot well, bringing on a cascade of tears and silent sobs. Nausea overwhelms me, I open the door and throw up onto the road.
I begin to think of our kids, Joseph junior, and my beautiful little baby Ruby. Her strawberry blonde hair is never tidy, and her stunning blue eyes remind me of ocean pools at sunset, her little laugh infects us all. She will be fine, but will she miss me? Only last week she took her first steps, every time she moved after that Joe was pulling out his cell phone and taking pictures, he was so proud. I know she will turn into a beautiful woman and as she grows Joe will roll out all the old home made movies and photo albums on my birthday and special occasions. They will laugh at the silly faces we pulled at the camera, and cry at the moments we hugged and were a family.
Joseph junior is like his father, a rugged little ten year old, the spitting image of Joe when he was young. I suddenly remember I have a picture of them both together at a little league Saturday game tucked into a pocket of my wallet. In between tears and nose blows I manage to find it, and as I look it takes my breath away. For an instance my heart stops. I gasp for air uncontrollably as I hold it to my breast. Then my frantic search for dry tissues in my bag turns into an angry outburst of screams that I take out on the car window with my fist. I see the guy next to me look over at the noise then quickly turn away, keeping his head straight, but still he looks at me from the corner of his eye. Thankfully the rain drizzles again against the window melting my vision away from him into my own kaleidoscope blind.
Two more wailing ambulances shoot by so close it looks like one is attached to the other, they bring me to my senses with a jolt. Quietly I put away the photo and wipe my eye's.
Why me Jesus? What did I ever do to you? I ask myself.
It's my own fault, I should have seen this coming. The symptoms were there floating underneath the surface of my every day life, that niggling little pain that never seemed to stop, the sickness in the mornings, the midnight trips to the bathroom. I just put it down to having kid's and the birth of Ruby.
Joe kept pestering me to do something, I guess he got fed up of my constant bad moods. It was over dinner one evening, about two months ago, that he brought it up that he thought things just weren’t right.
'You look tired Sally' he said as he poured me some wine.
'It's just the kid's,' I replied, 'they can be a hand full.'
'Are you sure it's just that?'
I always found talking about myself awkward, even to Joe.
'It's nothing' I said, but I knew he wasn't convinced.
'Go see Dr lawson up at the Clinic Sall, I've heard you being sick, that can't be right.'
Joe is your typical football jock, big and square shouldered with a mop of curly blonde hair, a strong looking man. But inside he's just a little boy who doesn’t cope well in difficult situations.
'Okay, you’re right Joe, I'll make a call and see if I can set something up.'
'Good girl, you know it makes sense.'
About a week later I met Dr Lawson and he suggested I have some tests done 'Just to make sure' he said, staring at his computer screen, 'It's probably nothing.'
'What sort of tests?' I asked.
He shifted awkwardly in his chair, I remember that. And kept circling his mouse around on a Toy story 2 desk pad. 'We need to take some blood and do an M.R.I. scan'
'Sounds like a lot for probably nothing' I replied, but I think he knew even then.
'Come in next week Sally, and we'll get it done' he smiled, his eyes unshifting.
I floated out of his office on a cloud of uncertainty, and the drive home was a nervous blur.
'How did it go Sall?' Joe asked when I got in.
'I'm not sure'
'Didn't they tell you what was wrong?'
'I need some tests done.'
'Tests?'
I could see the anxiety forming on Joe's face. 'It’s just routine stuff' I lied.
The days were uneasy, the mundane of home-life became chore-some and Joe seemed to irritate me more than usual.
Soon the day came, when I arrived at the clinic. A young blond receptionist at the desk took my details from my appointment letter, then pointed at the double doors without speaking or losing her stride chewing gum.
The waiting room looked sterile, with white PVC walls. small information leaflets lay strewn on a worn out coffee table and out-of-date women’s magazines cluttered the six green plastic seats. A small black clock reads nine thirty four, and a half hearted effort to brighten up the room with landscape picture prints had failed. I slid into the nearest seat beside the entrance door and flicked aimlessly through one of the publications.
Thankfully the wait was short. above my head the piped Muzak is interrupted by a voice inviting me to go to cubical four and put on a gown. A one size fits all paper blue disposable wrap. I feel awkward and embarrassed. suddenly I am aware of the few extra pounds I am carrying, but my discomfort is short lived. The door clicks behind me and a young woman in a white uniform smiles as it opens.
'Mrs Sally Ryder?' she asks.
I nod, nervously.
'This way please.'
She points towards a antimonial bed in a dimly lit fluorescent room, something that resembles a space craft circles it's bottom half. I feel my heart swell, I'm so scared.
'This won't take long' the nurse says helping me up.
'Just relax, the scan lasts about fifteen minutes.'
I feel the coolness of the metal filter through my gown and the air conditioning raises goose flesh on my arms and legs.
From behind me a bodiless voice asks me to put on head phones that are hanging just above me. the same piped music as in the waiting area envelopes my head. Somewhere a button is placed in my hand and the same voice has now moved into my earpiece asking me to push it should I wish to stop. Seconds pass, Barry Manilow resumes singing about Lola the show girl at the Co Co Cabana Club as under me the bed vibrates slightly. I feel the sensation of moving forward until I am partly covered by the scanner. It begins to randomly thump and bang like someone is trapped inside, red and green lights flash in a musical sequence, and my bodiless voice insists I lie still until the session is finished. Slowly I settle into an uneasy calm.
One hour later Dr lawson calls me to his office. I know something is wrong when he chooses not to switch on his computer, instead he fidgets with a brown file which hold my test results.
He reminds me of Dick van Dyke in 'diagnoses Murder, a mid morning TV soap, just before he reveals who the murderer is. His face is the color of crimson and he strains to speak. I watch as his eyes jerk nervously across the page.
'I have some bad news Sally' he whispers. 'We’ve detected a shadow on your ovaries' after which he rambles on about chemotherapy and the latest medical break through's.
I can't listen.
'How long have I got Doctor?' I finally interrupt.
'Maybe six months' he says so easily he stops my heart.
The helicopter is back, blowing up Autumn leaves and mist. I feel lost in my kaleidoscope rainbow again that has returned briefly, then slowly the traffic begins to move again.
I compose myself. 'I must prepare for the future' I say quietly, then in an instant my rainbow is gone.
Will Neill 2013
''Lost in a Kalideoscope Rainbow''(Will Neill)
Lost in a kaleidoscope Rainbow
A short story by Will Neill
A light September rain drifted across the highway. I sit transfixed by the colours of light folding into a dreamy rainbow. And as I watch in my moment of awareness the windshield wipers seemed to find the rhythm of my heart beat, all around me transforms to slow motion. On either side drivers scream in silence from their cab's, magnified faces of frustration captured in kaleidoscopes of wet glass. Each emanating a continuous chorus of car horns muted only by my own interior.
I feel bodiless and numb, it was as if I was intruding in my own body, each nerve end tingling to the point of unbearable ache. Somewhere in my head a voice is trying to ask questions, seeking answers that I am unable to give. It has only been fifteen minutes since I left the clinic and still I’m trying to process just what Dr Lawson had said when I ended up in a jam on highway 46. According to the guy on the news channel, a jackknifed semi truck was the problem, and of course the troopers were no where around to sort it out. A helicopter swoops and buzzes overhead sending up water spray and dead leaves, wreaking havoc on my dreamy rainbow that disappears in an instant.
I think about ringing Joe, my husband, but hesitate before I key in his cell number. what I need to tell him should not come from a Telephone call. I need to do this face to face. He won't handle it well, of that I'm sure. So it would be better if he was sitting down and I have my lines rehearsed so it is as least a shock as possible. But I don't know just how to sugar coat to him that half an hour ago I was told I have ovarian cancer, and it's aggressive.
Momentarily I am distracted as an ambulance screams by on the hard shoulder heading towards the head of the jam. I can only assume things are worse than the guy on the news channel has just reported. I try to move my head to get a better view above the cars in-front, but I can only see the red and blue flashing lights fade into the wet distance.
Funny, I always thought when you were dying your whole life would flash before your eye's, but it's not like that, this is different, of course, than dropping from a high building or drowning. This is more clinical, similar to falling but only at millisecond speed, six months to hit the ground. But the outcome being the same-dead!
I decide to call my mum but my fingers tremble with each button I press and I begin to panic about how to start the conversation. How do you talk about every day things then casually drop in that you need to arrange your own funeral. My hand drops the phone before the last digit is entered. it bounces off the passenger seat into the foot well, bringing on a cascade of tears and silent sobs. Nausea overwhelms me, I open the door and throw up onto the road.
I begin to think of our kids, Joseph junior, and my beautiful little baby Ruby. Her strawberry blonde hair is never tidy, and her stunning blue eyes remind me of ocean pools at sunset, her little laugh infects us all. She will be fine, but will she miss me? Only last week she took her first steps, every time she moved after that Joe was pulling out his cell phone and taking pictures, he was so proud. I know she will turn into a beautiful woman and as she grows Joe will roll out all the old home made movies and photo albums on my birthday and special occasions. They will laugh at the silly faces we pulled at the camera, and cry at the moments we hugged and were a family.
Joseph junior is like his father, a rugged little ten year old, the spitting image of Joe when he was young. I suddenly remember I have a picture of them both together at a little league Saturday game tucked into a pocket of my wallet. In between tears and nose blows I manage to find it, and as I look it takes my breath away. For an instance my heart stops. I gasp for air uncontrollably as I hold it to my breast. Then my frantic search for dry tissues in my bag turns into an angry outburst of screams that I take out on the car window with my fist. I see the guy next to me look over at the noise then quickly turn away, keeping his head straight, but still he looks at me from the corner of his eye. Thankfully the rain drizzles again against the window melting my vision away from him into my own kaleidoscope blind.
Two more wailing ambulances shoot by so close it looks like one is attached to the other, they bring me to my senses with a jolt. Quietly I put away the photo and wipe my eye's.
Why me Jesus? What did I ever do to you? I ask myself.
It's my own fault, I should have seen this coming. The symptoms were there floating underneath the surface of my every day life, that niggling little pain that never seemed to stop, the sickness in the mornings, the midnight trips to the bathroom. I just put it down to having kid's and the birth of Ruby.
Joe kept pestering me to do something, I guess he got fed up of my constant bad moods. It was over dinner one evening, about two months ago, that he brought it up that he thought things just weren’t right.
'You look tired Sally' he said as he poured me some wine.
'It's just the kid's,' I replied, 'they can be a hand full.'
'Are you sure it's just that?'
I always found talking about myself awkward, even to Joe.
'It's nothing' I said, but I knew he wasn't convinced.
'Go see Dr lawson up at the Clinic Sall, I've heard you being sick, that can't be right.'
Joe is your typical football jock, big and square shouldered with a mop of curly blonde hair, a strong looking man. But inside he's just a little boy who doesn’t cope well in difficult situations.
'Okay, you’re right Joe, I'll make a call and see if I can set something up.'
'Good girl, you know it makes sense.'
About a week later I met Dr Lawson and he suggested I have some tests done 'Just to make sure' he said, staring at his computer screen, 'It's probably nothing.'
'What sort of tests?' I asked.
He shifted awkwardly in his chair, I remember that. And kept circling his mouse around on a Toy story 2 desk pad. 'We need to take some blood and do an M.R.I. scan'
'Sounds like a lot for probably nothing' I replied, but I think he knew even then.
'Come in next week Sally, and we'll get it done' he smiled, his eyes unshifting.
I floated out of his office on a cloud of uncertainty, and the drive home was a nervous blur.
'How did it go Sall?' Joe asked when I got in.
'I'm not sure'
'Didn't they tell you what was wrong?'
'I need some tests done.'
'Tests?'
I could see the anxiety forming on Joe's face. 'It’s just routine stuff' I lied.
The days were uneasy, the mundane of home-life became chore-some and Joe seemed to irritate me more than usual.
Soon the day came, when I arrived at the clinic. A young blond receptionist at the desk took my details from my appointment letter, then pointed at the double doors without speaking or losing her stride chewing gum.
The waiting room looked sterile, with white PVC walls. small information leaflets lay strewn on a worn out coffee table and out-of-date women’s magazines cluttered the six green plastic seats. A small black clock reads nine thirty four, and a half hearted effort to brighten up the room with landscape picture prints had failed. I slid into the nearest seat beside the entrance door and flicked aimlessly through one of the publications.
Thankfully the wait was short. above my head the piped Muzak is interrupted by a voice inviting me to go to cubical four and put on a gown. A one size fits all paper blue disposable wrap. I feel awkward and embarrassed. suddenly I am aware of the few extra pounds I am carrying, but my discomfort is short lived. The door clicks behind me and a young woman in a white uniform smiles as it opens.
'Mrs Sally Ryder?' she asks.
I nod, nervously.
'This way please.'
She points towards a antimonial bed in a dimly lit fluorescent room, something that resembles a space craft circles it's bottom half. I feel my heart swell, I'm so scared.
'This won't take long' the nurse says helping me up.
'Just relax, the scan lasts about fifteen minutes.'
I feel the coolness of the metal filter through my gown and the air conditioning raises goose flesh on my arms and legs.
From behind me a bodiless voice asks me to put on head phones that are hanging just above me. the same piped music as in the waiting area envelopes my head. Somewhere a button is placed in my hand and the same voice has now moved into my earpiece asking me to push it should I wish to stop. Seconds pass, Barry Manilow resumes singing about Lola the show girl at the Co Co Cabana Club as under me the bed vibrates slightly. I feel the sensation of moving forward until I am partly covered by the scanner. It begins to randomly thump and bang like someone is trapped inside, red and green lights flash in a musical sequence, and my bodiless voice insists I lie still until the session is finished. Slowly I settle into an uneasy calm.
One hour later Dr lawson calls me to his office. I know something is wrong when he chooses not to switch on his computer, instead he fidgets with a brown file which hold my test results.
He reminds me of Dick van Dyke in 'diagnoses Murder, a mid morning TV soap, just before he reveals who the murderer is. His face is the color of crimson and he strains to speak. I watch as his eyes jerk nervously across the page.
'I have some bad news Sally' he whispers. 'We’ve detected a shadow on your ovaries' after which he rambles on about chemotherapy and the latest medical break through's.
I can't listen.
'How long have I got Doctor?' I finally interrupt.
'Maybe six months' he says so easily he stops my heart.
The helicopter is back, blowing up Autumn leaves and mist. I feel lost in my kaleidoscope rainbow again that has returned briefly, then slowly the traffic begins to move again.
I compose myself. 'I must prepare for the future' I say quietly, then in an instant my rainbow is gone.
Will Neill 2013
- Share this story on
- 11
Shelly Garrod
03/08/2022Good read Will. I enjoyed your story. The many thoughts we encounter when we are faced with or impending last days.
Reply
COMMENTS (1)