Whispers
By James A. Huizenga
14 May 1997
"When I'm not here, where am I?"
The Lost Philosopher
---and the machines quietly whispered to her---
The wires and tubes fed life into the motionless body that could not feed itself, but they could do nothing to make this lifeless flesh move. They could only keep it ready for her brain to actively make it function again, to move on its own. Her physical being was present but no one was quite sure where her conscious being was --- or if it was. Her mind was still signaling its presence to those machines with brief peaks of brain activity divided by long valleys of inactivity --- just enough activity to delay 'pulling the plug'.
The specialists called in to care for her, had seen
impossible cases like this so many times before. Privately they held little
hope for her recovery or even return to the conscious world. As extended care
professionals though, they had presented a much brighter picture to those who
still cared enough for this 19 year old, to visit her
on a regular basis. The immediate family had come daily hoping against hope for
any sign that
Some visitors to the hospital room whispered at first, while others spoke in normal tones not seeing any need to whisper.
"Shhh, not so loud!"
"What difference does it make, she's unconscious. She can't hear us."
"The least you can do is show a little compassion toward her folks."
Other visitors, stood next to her bed and talked about her as if she were 1000 miles away. Some even commented on how strange a child she had been.
"You know, she was never quite right in the head. She was just plain strange. I heard that her parents took her to one of those psycho doctors because she said she heard voices."
"She was always such a tomboy. She didn't want to do girl things." (The emphasis was always on the 'tomboy' and 'girl things' as if they were mutually exclusive.)
"There must be something wrong with her, she never dated."
Yes, as a child she had been a tomboy - no dolls for her. She dearly loved to play marbles, and she was damn good at it. Lynn was a better marble player than her older brother and had been almost from the time she was big enough to be trusted not to swallow them.
She wanted to show that she was just as good and could do things better than the boys --- and did so regularly. She had been teased by the boys and girls alike. The boys hated her because nine times out of ten she beat them at their own game --- and the girls --- well, they just thought she was plain weird.
Lynn had not been an ugly child but had been very plain, with a very quiet beauty. To make matters worse, because she had insisted on short hair (having no time to fool with long hair), at times people had mistaken her for a boy. Lynn wasn't one of the girls or one of the boys and the only person she had ever really been close to was her brother.
She had been a very late starter in the girl-boy relationship game. It had always been child to child or person to person, but never girl to boy. When she was finally ready to play the game, it seemed as if everyone was already paired up with no one left over for her.
As a sixteen year old, she had had a bad relationship which ended ugly and had left such a rotten taste in her mind that she had become even more cautious in her relationships.
---the machines continued to
whisper to
--but she could hear their conversations. Not at first, not understandably and not all the time.
At first there had been complete silence. She had never heard complete silence before and it frightened her.
"Am I awake or dreaming?
--why is it so dark?
--if I'm awake, why can't I open my eyes to find out where I am?
--I'm so cold."
Initially, every once in a while, she thought she
heard
-- no -- felt, something like footsteps. Then
the darkness began to alternate with a hazy fog.
"If this is a dream, why can't I see anything or anybody?"
She felt so confined, knowing there was somewhere else she wanted --- no, needed to be.
There was also this agonizing feeling of going as slow as possible, but still going too fast, rushing slowly to an unknown destination, with a feeling of nausea -- a kind of 'slow-motion sickness.'
"Why are they whispering?"
So many questions with no answers.
---the machine listened and
recorded
A local support group had been established for coma families, called C.O.M.A. (Caring Over & Above Medical Assistance). Over the months they had sent various representatives to the extended care facility to visit her and her family. Lynn's family had not been very receptive to them until finally four months later when Allen arrived and was welcomed with open arms.
He had been in a coma himself for 2 years, coming out of it about the same time as Lynn had slipped into hers. His coma had been brought on by a motorcycle accident when he was 19. He had done almost everything right --- motorcycle classes, helmet, leather jacket, gloves---the exception being that he had purchased and rode a motorcycle. His accident had resulted in only scratches and bruises as visible wounds, but his head had suffered such trauma that he had arrived at the hospital emergency room unconscious. His visible wounds had healed quickly but he had lapsed into a coma and had remained in that coma for 2 years -- suddenly awaking. No one knew why he had gone into a coma and everyone was just as surprised when he came out of it.
Allen tried to remain 'uninvolved' emotionally with the people he was trying to help but this time it wasn't working. There was something about this young lady that was so haunting, so beautiful --- so hauntingly beautiful. What that really meant, Allen wasn't sure, but it seemed to fit. The change in Lynn's beauty had been so gradual that those around her didn't really look at her as beautiful, it was just familiar old Lynn. It took an outsider like Allen to recognize how beautiful she really was.
Somehow he felt he knew her. The quiet beauty of her childhood had just as quietly blossomed into the striking beauty of a young adult and Allen had not recognized her as the little girl he'd had a summer camp crush on so many years ago, but she did look so familiar.
As preteens, Allen and Lynn had actually spent several weeks together in a summer camp. Both had been infatuated with one another. She, spending as much time as possible, as close as possible to him and he, as much time as possible teasing and taunting her to prove to his peers that he didn't really 'like' her. She was a g-i-r-l. Besides that he was two years older and 'she was just a kid.' Secretly they liked each other, but the secret was only in their minds, for everyone around them knew that their protestations to the contrary were the surest sign of their interest in one another; that she liked him and he liked her. She had even claimed he'd almost drowned her in the camp swimming pool. In reality, he couldn't swim very well but would have drowned himself in an attempt to save her from really drowning.
---Quietly the machines whispered life into Lynn's motionless body---
In trying to sort things out, Lynn's mind had started to backtrack, to find some point of reference that would bring her to now. She found herself in her childhood---
---because their house was right next door, as a child, Lynn and her brother had spent a lot of time in her grandparents house. She saw herself having cookies and Kool Aide at grandma's kitchen table. Her brother was playing with his marbles at the table (which he was not supposed to do.) One rolled off the table and onto the floor. The old house had settled unevenly and as a consequence, the kitchen floor visibly sloped toward the outside wall. Lynn watched as he got down off his chair. Since he knew where the marble would end up, he hadn't watched it as it homed in on that wall. Instead he went immediately there to retrieve it.
Lynn watched as it rolled across the floor toward the wall. It never did reach the wall but was picked up about a foot away from it. It had stopped and bounced back before reaching the wall as if it had run into something solid. Lynn noticed this mid-course change but her brother had not. She knew this marble was special and had to have it.
-----Silently the machines held Lynn's body in this world------
Allen had suggested that her family fill the hospital room with her things. When she came out of the coma, (and there was never any doubt in his mind that she wouldn't) she would be in familiar surroundings with her things beside her. It would make her recovery smoother and quicker. He also knew that this would make it easier on them as they came and waited for her to wake up. So, over the last month they had transported almost her entire bedroom to the hospital.
This relocation of
Later her mother asked him, "What did you find in the vacuum cleaner?"
"Just and old marble--must have been one of the
ones
"Where is it?"
"I threw it away - she doesn't need it anymore."
A brief discussion of its relative worth followed and
-----whispers------
"A marble? Why am I thinking about a marble?
Everyone but
It had become her favorite marble. It had little air bubbles in it – little pockets that you couldn't quite see into because they were fogged on the inside. She never wanted to play marbles with it because she was afraid to lose it. In the heat of battle, she had once been forced to use it and had lost it to another player. She became so obsessed with getting it back that she began to alternate between wild frantic behavior and silently sitting, not responding to anything outside herself --- just rocking back and forth --- until she finally won it back. It was never out of her control again.
That marble had always been special, her 'blankee', the one constant in her life, that never disappointed her and had given her hope when she felt there was none.
Because of her rejection by the other children, at an early age Lynn had withdrawn into books, books that could take her wherever and whenever she wanted to go. She could even be whoever she wanted to be. In books she could control her life and things that happened to her. As an older child she had read a book that convinced her that if you used your mind to its full potential, you could control objects - just by sheer will power. This, of course, went right along with her belief in the 'marble'. She would try to 'roll it across the table just by concentrating on it. It was during this period of concentration upon rolling the marble that the whispers had started. After months of frustration she had thought she'd seen it roll. No matter how hard she tried after that, she had not been able to move it again. Her concentration upon moving the marble had only made the whispering sounds become stronger to the point of distracting her from what she was really trying to do -- move that marble. They kept getting in the way as they became louder --- and almost understandable. At first they were only unintelligible whispering sounds; like the wind through the bare trees of winter. But even then she knew they were voices.
Lynn had mentioned the voices coming from the marble to her folks and they had taken her to a counselor to find out what was 'disturbing' her. Her concentration on the marble had become so intense that it was as if mentally she had gone somewhere else. She had then begun to lie about the voices, saying she didn't hear them any more, even though they continued to get louder and louder.
When she was a young adult, one voice kept getting louder and stronger with understandable words every now and then. Lynn had finally heard words, not just whispers, and began to hold conversations with this voice.
She had began to retreat into another world she had created within her marble. Those little air bubbles were perfect little worlds where she would go to be with her new friend, her new boyfriend. She hadn't found out his name yet (or given him a name), but there was plenty of time for that. She couldn't hear a real voice but carried on conversations with him anyway. It was more like she sensed or felt his voice. She even made plans pretending they'd be spending the rest of their lives together (happily ever after).
She had finally found a boyfriend, if only in her mind. That's where the conversations with the voice had taken place -- no one could hear them talking. When involved in these conversations her concentration was so great that anyone who saw her would have thought her asleep.
She even began to form an image of her new boyfriend. He was a very handsome boy a few years older than she. She couldn't remember now if he had ever mentioned his name in those talks or if maybe she had given him a name.
Five months ago she had been attempting her usual concentration upon the stone to converse with her 'friend' and had been sitting in her room cross legged on the floor (meditation position). Initially everything was fine and his voice was loud and clear. She talked of their plans. It gave her encouragement and kept her going. Suddenly his voice was beginning to fade. His voice was happy, but fading. He was thanking her for being there, for being his friend.
The last words she heard from him, "So long, Lynn, thank you."
They found her unconscious, lying on the floor next to her bed. Mentally she had just shut down.
The only male, aside from her brother, that she'd had a meaningful relationship with (even though just in her mind) had now disappeared. It was more than she could take.
She was rushed to the hospital after the 911 call and had silently slipped into a coma. The doctors had examined her but could find no medical reason for her condition. All tests failed to reveal the cause of her coma.
--------------------
Lynn and her brother had been so close over the years that as he walked past the door of her room, he felt very depressed. It wasn't her's anymore. All the things that had given it her signature had been taken to her hospital room. It was as if she'd never been there.
Not knowing why, he walked into her room. He was drawn over to her dresser almost as if someone had whispered his name. He saw the marble lying on the dresser and recognized it as the one he had given her so many years ago, the one he had almost made her cry for---
---she knew he'd give it to her as long as she sat still long enough to hear him to the end and put up a token fight along the way. He knew he'd give it to her and she knew he'd give it to her, but she still had to listen to his story.
Lynn's brother loved to tell stories (tall tales at that) and this was an instance where he had a captive audience. If she really wanted the marble, she'd have to take his story along with it.
"This beautiful, precious, crystal clear jewel was given to me by an old gypsy on her death bed. It had been given to her as a child by her mother on her death bed."
"You've never even seen any old gypsy, let alone a dying one."
Used to heckling during his stories, he continued without any hesitation.
"She could tell just by looking at me that I was a very honest and trustworthy boy so she,--"
"You expect me to believe any of this garbage?"
"---so she told me it was a very precious wishing stone. Whoever has this stone, if they believe, --- really--really--really believe, they will get whatever they wish for. But only good things. She had no further use for the stone as she had gotten everything she had ever wished for and was now giving it to me for safekeeping."
"How come you haven't wished for something, huh? How come?"
"Well I just haven't thought of the right thing to wish for yet."
He was trying to make her really want the marble, harassing her all the while, so she just couldn't do without it.
"Maybe she'll even beg me for it," he thought.
The harassment really wasn't necessary because she wanted it so badly she could already feel its smooth round surface in her hand and would do almost anything for it.
He'd carried on for 5 more minutes telling the gruesome details of the gypsy's final gasping breathes, violent convulsions and how horrible her breathe was-- all the while trying to gross Lynn out.
The gypsy could hardly talk and had to whisper the story to him. He'd told Lynn about having to put his ear almost against the gypsy's mouth to be able to hear her whispers. As he told his story, he began to whisper himself. Lynn finally had to put her ear close to his mouth to be able to hear and understand. At the appropriate time he'd shouted and grabbed Lynn by the arm causing her to jump as he surprised and scared her to the point of crying. She hadn't given him the satisfaction of seeing her cry but had turned away and wiped the tears before he could see them. He saw that he'd pushed her right to the edge and decided enough was enough. After all, she wasn't too bad as sisters go. But she was his sister and older brothers are supposed to give their baby sisters a little bit of a bad time.
"She handed it to me and just croaked."
At this point he had dropped the marble into her outstretched hand. She had immediately run to her room to admire her new treasure---
-----whispers-----
---As he touched the marble, the whispers became stronger. It sounded like Lynn's voice, not understandable, but it was her voice. No mistaking that.
"My mind's playing tricks on me, cause I wanna hear her voice. That's all it is."
Slowly, reverently he placed the marble in his pocket, to have something of Lynn with him.
-------------------
She remembered now. She had been holding the marble, as she always had when talking with her friend --- and he had gone away.
As she had lost consciousness, her hand still gripped the marble. When the paramedics prepared to place her upon the gurney, her hand, which had not been securely restrained, had slipped off her still body and the marble had been released to roll under her bed.
She felt warmer now.
----------------
In his visit to Lynn that day, her brother had forgotten about the marble in his pocket. While in her hospital room, he again began to hear his name whispered, but stronger this time. Remembering the marble, he took it from his pocket and after looking at it, decided its place was really with her. He took Lynn's hand and noticed that today it seemed much warmer than it had in the last five months. He placed the marble in the palm of her hand gently closing her fingers around it. He turned away from the bed, a tear forming at the corner of his eye. He wished he had told her how much he really loved his baby sister.
----whispers-----
"What was his name?" She knew it was a nice sounding name.
"Maybe it was Allen."
------------------
Allen felt someone whisper and turned to see who was trying to get his attention.
Lynn's brother was the only other person in the room and he was standing beside her bed. He was quietly talking to her as he had done daily. But the whisper was a woman's voice, not his.
-----whispers-----
"That's it, his name is Allen. I have to find Allen."
"Allen!"
-------------------
Again he heard his name whispered. It was definitely his name and it was getting louder. He glanced and moved in the direction of the door to the hallway, but no one was there. Someone was trying to play a trick on him.
-----whispers-----
"Allen!"
--------------------
As Lynn's brother moved away from the bed, Allen turned back into the room. His name was getting louder, but it was coming from the direction of Lynn's bed. She lay there motionless as she had from the first day he had arrived. He was drawn to the side of her bed and instinctively reached out for her hand. The same hand in which her brother had just placed her precious wishing stone.
Her hand felt warm and slowly began to respond to Allen's touch.
He heard his name whispered again, "Allen."
Then he saw his name being formed on her lips.
"Hello, Allen."
----------
Neither Lynn nor Allen ever heard the voices again --- or had a need to. The marble was finally tossed into a storage box in the garage. Each was convinced that the voices they had heard were just products of their vivid imaginations.
----------
One day, nine years later, their son Jim was playing
in the garage when he thought he heard---
-----WHISPERS-----