"Lullaby"

"Lullaby"

A Story by Cody Williams

“Lullaby”

By Cody Williams

 

Mary Wagner sat with her right leg crossed on top of her left leg for just a moment before switching them and then placing both of her feet firmly back on the floor in the main waiting just outside the ER of the Little Rock Hospital. She bounced her legs up and down rapidly, something that her husband, Hank, never appreciated, but she couldn’t help it. For some strange reason it calmed her nerves. Mary folded her hands over her knees squeezing them in tight, yet subtle, pulses as she looked up at the clock on the wall across from her that hung above the double doors that led to the ER.

The clock had a plain white with large, black, bolded numbers around it. The hands of the clock were also thick and black. She watched the clock closely as the second hand slowly ticked by in what felt like every twenty minutes. Mary closed her eyes when a flash of light reflected against the glass doors that led to the waiting room from outside. She turned to see who had entered. It Hank carrying two cups of coffee from the Weigel's gas station from across the street. She told him that she could just get coffee there in the waiting room, but he insisted on going out. How sweet she thought at first before she realized the true reason that he wanted to go out there. He walked towards her and handed her a cup of the coffee.

“Careful! It’s hot!” He told her. She knew that it would be. That is how she liked her coffee, after all. But she didn’t say anything. She just nodded and took the warm paper cup in her hands. Mary took a sip of the coffee before quickly jerking away and putting her hand over her bottom lip. Hank let out a chuckle and he took a sip of his and placed it on the coffee table in front of them. “I told ya it was hot Mary!” Hank said with sense of humor in his voice. Mary glared at him that made the smile quickly fade away. This was no laughing matter, after all. But she didn’t say anything. That would only cause more arguments between them. Besides, humor was the way he dealt with grief. So she let it pass. They sat in silence for a moment before Hank leaned in close to her. “Has the doctor been back out yet?” He asked her. As he sat down a chair down from her (Hank always insisted that there be a chair between him and someone else; it was a personal space thing that she never understood) Mary got a whiff of what smelt like cigarette smoke. There was something else as well. Almost a lemony scent. He must have rubbed a lemon car freshener on his shirt to hide the smell she thought. That confirmed what he went outside to do. She had told him to quit smoking countless times and he even promised to do so. But she didn’t want to bring that up. It just wasn’t the time.

“No.” She replied. She thought about saying something smart. Something to the extent of Yes. That’s why I’m sitting here so goddamn anxious. Because the f*****g doctor came and told me that I would have to wait a few more minutes. But she didn’t. It wasn’t the right time for that and she and Hank didn’t have the energy or patience to playfully speak sarcastic to one another like they did in their younger days. The two sat in silence for a moment longer. That wasn’t a bad thing, though. After being married for twenty years, silence was welcomed. Not because they didn’t have anything to talk about. This silence was not out of bitterness, it was out of content.

Mary looked up at the flat screen television that hung over on the wall next to the front desk. It was a black Sony, the brand that they owned themselves. They bought as a Christmas present to themselves a couple of years back after Bridget, their daughter, moved out to go to college. She originally thought that the two of them could hang it on the wall in their bedroom as they watched movies together and tried to rekindle the spark that they had before Bridget hit her teenage years. But like most everything else in Mary’s life, that didn’t go as planed. Rather, Hank took the TV for himself and moved it into Bridget’s old room. He also moved in two black leather Lay-Z Boy recliners there just in front of it as well as a black mini-fridge. The other recliner wasn’t for her. It was for Donnie, Hanks younger brother. Mary knew what they did in there. They sat their fat asses down in their recliners, drank beer, smoked cigars, and told dirty jokes. She’s surprised that they didn’t take a plastic bucket in there to take a piss and s**t in so that they would never have to leave the room.

On the television screen, the FOX NEWS logo set at the base of the screen as Bill O’Rilley appeared. He was talking but the TV was muted. Black bars with white letters inside of them appeared at the bottom of the screen, but Mary paid no attention. She loathed FOX NEWS…and O’Rilley. Mary would sometimes think to herself if they could suspend Brian Williams for a lie, why don’t they do the same to O’Rilley? He has built an entire career of lying on the O’Rilley Factor. Sometimes she would think out loud and say these things to her husband. He would always roll his eyes. Not because he disagreed with her (he didn’t really) but because he knew that she had always had an eye for Brian Williams. He was once on her list of celebrities she could f**k if she had ever met. But that was long before they got too old to care about that meaningless s**t.

Mary managed to pull her eyes away from the television screen when the double doors in front of her opened. A man stepped out wearing light blue scrubs along with a matching mask that was intended to go over his face but was hanging down around his neck exposing his neatly trimmed beard. Mary looked into his dark brown eyes. There was something there that told her that something was wrong before he could even say a word. She quickly stood to her feet to greet the doctor and looked over at Hank whom was looking at what she assumed was the latest edition of The Rolling Stone with Keith Richards on the cover. Mary lightly hit him on the arm to get his attention. Hank fumbled the magazine and tossed it on the coffee table nearly knocking over his coffee before he stood to his feet.

“Doctor Sanderson? Is everything okay? Is Bridget alright?” She asked him. Doctor Sanderson said nothing for a moment and rested his hands on his hips and gently bit his lip. “What? What is it?” Mary asked him. She could herself start to tear up but held back. Bridget never liked it when her mother cried. She found it embarrassing.

“I think you ought to come back here. We gave her her own room. I don’t think she’s going to be with us much longer. I’m terribly sorry to have to tell you this.” She told them. Mary could feel the felling in her legs fade as they felt like two long noodles from a plate of spaghetti. Before she could fall on her a*s, Hank caught her and pulled her in close to him. She wiped her tears and snot on his shirt and looked up at him. He motioned for them to follow the doctor, so they did.

On the way to the room Mary could feel her heart start to beat out of her chest. She started to think about the accident. It happened on I-81, just passed Exit 12. From what she had been told, her daughter was in the far left lane when a red Mustang cut over two lanes of traffic sending them all into the concrete wall. Apparently, the driver of the red Mustang was drunk. He did walk away, however. Bridget wasn’t that lucky. Mary sometimes thought that the driver of the Mustang deserved the electric chair for what he’s done to her and Hank. But she would always dismiss the though of it because it did nothing but make her upset. As the two grew closer to the room, Mary’s heart beat hardened and almost felt like a jackhammer inside of her chest. When turned the corner and entered the room, Mary was struck with silence.

There she was. Bridget, her once beautiful daughter, was lying in the hospital bed in front of her. Her face was all bruised up and covered in cuts and scrapes. Part of her scalp was reveled as the hair and skin was peeled back like a banana peel. Even if she was going to survive the wreck, she would have pretty significant brain damage. Mary walked closer. She could barely breath as she made often gasps for air. She sat down in the chair next to her daughter. Tears began to roll down her face as she slowly reached out to hold her hand.

“No, no, no! Not my baby girl! Not my baby girl!” She cried out. Mary rested her head on the sheets sobbing for a moment. When she lifted her head, she did the only thing she could think to do…sing Bridget’s lullaby. It was always her favorite. Mary had sung it too her from the time she brought her home from the hospital to the day she decided that she was too damn old for one of ma’s lame lullabies. Still, she decided to sing it one last time. Once she finished, Bridget took her final breath.


Copyright © 2015 by Cody Williams
Courtesy of TRUE TERROR PUBLICATIONS
A division of TTP Entertainment

© 2015 Cody Williams


Author's Note

Cody Williams
"So just give it one more try to a lullaby
And turn this up on the radio
If you can hear me now
I'm reaching out
To let you know that you're not alone
And if you can't tell, I'm scared as hell
'Cause I can't get you on the telephone
So just close your eyes
Oh, honey here comes a lullaby
Your very own lullaby"

-Nickelback "Lullaby"

My Review

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Featured Review

A powerful and sad tale.
"Mary had sung it too her from the time she brought her home from the hospital to the day she decided that she was too damn old for one of ma’s lame lullabies. Still, she decided to sing it one last time. Once she finished, Bridget took her final breath."
I did like ending. The lullaby gave strength and purpose for this tale. Thank you my friend for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Cody Williams

8 Years Ago

Thanks for reading Coyote! I'm glad that you liked it!

-CW
Coyote Poetry

8 Years Ago

I did and you are welcome.
Nya Joy Simmons

8 Years Ago

That was wonderful !



Reviews

This is a quite intense story full of raw emotion. Well written. I noticed that you had a few misspelled words.

Posted 7 Years Ago


A powerful and sad tale.
"Mary had sung it too her from the time she brought her home from the hospital to the day she decided that she was too damn old for one of ma’s lame lullabies. Still, she decided to sing it one last time. Once she finished, Bridget took her final breath."
I did like ending. The lullaby gave strength and purpose for this tale. Thank you my friend for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Cody Williams

8 Years Ago

Thanks for reading Coyote! I'm glad that you liked it!

-CW
Coyote Poetry

8 Years Ago

I did and you are welcome.
Nya Joy Simmons

8 Years Ago

That was wonderful !
I'm in awe of the protagonist. Such a powerful character! And flawed as well, which only makes her more realistic. A great job, Cody. Keep it up!

Posted 8 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Cody Williams

8 Years Ago

Thanks for reading Sally! I'm glad you liked it.

-CW

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Added on November 9, 2015
Last Updated on November 9, 2015
Tags: short story, literary fiction, fiction, Cody Williams

Author

Cody Williams
Cody Williams

Elizabethton, TN



About
I am in my second year at Carson-Newman University in Jefferson City, Tennessee were I major in instrumental music education and minor in English. My passions include playing the trombone/euphonium an.. more..

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