Alice’s Sonnet
Tick-tick-tick. Waiting room clocks. Why are all waiting rooms the same. The eggshell white paint, the harsh fluorescent lights and the same uncomfortable chairs. On lifting my head, a burning stench assaults my nostrils. It is the same industrial strength bleach used in all waiting rooms. A sigh escapes, a waiting room sigh.
I stare across the room to a girl. She looks young. It is hard to judge ages nowadays but she looks far too young. To be in this waiting room, listening to the tick-tick-tick of that clock. I am still musing over the girl’s age, when she looks up. Her eyes are a shade of green that blazes in amongst this eggshell white. But she is too young, and she quickly avoids eye contact. I don’t blame her, after all I broke the waiting room protocol. Although, it makes me feel worse; for her, for me. After all we are supposed to suffer alone in the silence.
I allow my eyes to follow the speckled linoleum floor to the reception desk. Behind the desk sits the receptionist, she is talking loudly on the phone. She doesn’t seem to care that she is breaking waiting room decorum. I can hear her gossiping about a Janice and something as mundane as a spilt drink on a favourite dress. Bored, my attention drifts to a poster is pinned to the wall behind her. It is typical morale poster in any workplace. The poster in which a kitten hangs from a branch, eyes wide with strain, while above him bold words define his challenge, ‘Hang in there’.
These words rattle inside my head. My vision closes until there is only dark edges and haziness. My chest is hammering. Thump, thump-thump… I force myself to swallow. I tear my focus from the poster and mistakenly lock eyes with the receptionist. She is still on the phone but there is a glint of something there. I can’t grasp it before she avoids my eyes. I sit there, lost. With nowhere to look, I stare at my hands. They are firmly pressed against my thighs. They are clenched and pale… my forearms are rigid, and shaking. Releasing the tension, I open my fists. My palms are covered in sweat… nervous sweat. Sighing, I drop my face into my hands. I don’t care about the sweat. All I want is comforting darkness, and hopeful times.
***
My eager footsteps echo in the hallway. The corridor is plagued with scatterings of men, women and children. The infirm and healthy are mixed together in chaos. But they do not exist for me; I am caught in a mixture of nervousness, excitement, and an emotion I can’t name. I’ve waited so long for this day. Of course, as is my luck, he/she has to arrive on the day of my final exam. Three hours of sitting, in silence, were torturous. I hope nothing went wrong.
I clutch the brightly packaged daffodils as I arrive at the nurse’s station. Sitting behind the desk is a conservative Indian nurse. Her attention is focused on a computer.
‘Excuse me… hello. Could you please tell me which room Miss Imogen Savannah is in?’
The Indian nurse looks up. She must be very tired but she nevertheless smiles at me. Perhaps she can see the excitement in my face or then again, maybe it is a courtesy.
‘Of course, Sir,’ she replies reaching for the clipboard with the room allocations, ‘Miss Savannah is resting in Room 304. It’s down the hall, it’s second door on your right.’
‘Thank you. Is she doing alright? Have there been any complications?’
‘No, Sir.’
***
Room 304. Tightening my grasp on the flowers, and a final deep breath, I step across the threshold. Inside is the same layout as all hospital rooms. Four patients to a room, fluorescent lighting and the smell of bleach. However I don’t care because I see her immediately. Imogen. She is sleeping, and looks tired and haggard, but I have never seen her so beautiful. I cross to the far side of the room, as she opens her eyes. My breath is taken away at the sight of her electric blue eyes. I raise the daffodils, stunned by the emotion held in her face.
‘Hello… you finally made it. Are they for me? They’re beautiful.’ Her voice betrays her exhaustion behind her smile.
‘I’m sorry I’m late.’ I reply, ‘I tried to be as quick as I could. How are you feeling?’
After placing the flowers on her bedside table, I move to her side, taking her right hand in my own.
‘Nonsense, I’m glad you went. You just better hope you did well, otherwise I won‘t be as understanding. I‘m fine, just exhausted. Have you met your daughter yet?’
Imogen gestures to a moveable crib on the other side of the bed. I feel myself moving without conscious thought. My gaze never wavers from the crib until I stand above it. There nestled amongst a single pink blanket is my tiny daughter. A lump rises in my throat, and the world ceases to move. I am caught in this moment, just me, my daughter and a love that has ignited inside my heart. Haltingly I go to pick her up before I stop myself. I turn towards Imogen, asking the unspoken question.
‘Go on. She needs to be fed soon anyway.’
Encouraged, I turn and gently scoop up my baby girl from her crib. I watch in awe as she stirs at my touch. Her face is scrunched in mass of tight wrinkles. Her cries of protest envelop the small room. I can feel my face aching from my massive grin. Suddenly she stops crying and as I stare, entranced by her, she opens her eyes. They are so wide and blue I feel my heart lurch.
‘What should we name her?’ asks Imogen, ‘She doesn’t look like any of the names we suggested, does she?’
I hold my daughter’s gaze. In a moment of clarity and inspiration I raise my face to encompass Imogen’s.
‘What about Alice?’ I say the name with a quiet reverence, knowing with uncommon certainty it is my daughter’s true name.
‘Alice? Alice… I like it. Alice Savannah.’
***
Squeals fill my ears with their lyrical beauty. Raising my face from Alice’s stomach, I look into her ice-blue eyes. Her face is contorted in a fit of laughter. Infected by her mirth, I join in and together our laughter fills our small home. Slowly, she begins to calm down. I wait patiently, and just as she begins to breathe normally again... I lower my head to her stomach and blow more raspberries. The sounds reduce Alice once again into hysterics.
Bang! Both Alice and I looked up startled as the study door is thrown open. There standing on threshold is Imogen. Her hair flies in disarray around her. I swallow noisily, the playful exuberance of only a moment before disappears like ash.
‘What the HELL do you think you are doing?’ Imogen’s words strike at my courage.
‘I was just playing…’
‘No! You’re making her squeal. You know I’m trying to study in here. So what exactly the hell do YOU think you are doing?’
‘I just… I just don’t get to see her very much… we were only playing.’
‘Well I tell you what, Nathan. You can take her for the next four years while I get to go back and do MY dream job. Would that suit you? After all I‘ve sacrificed and you can‘t even give me two hours of peace. How am I supposed to go back to work if I can‘t even study? Go on, tell me, Nathan?’
I kneel there, stunned into silence. I feel like a boy in the face of her fury and accusations. In that quiet, tension-filled moment, Alice breaks into tears. I stare at her with distress. I reach for her, and she willingly enters my embrace. Her head presses into my shoulder and I can feel her small body shuddering with intense sobs. Imogen is unflinching.
‘I’m sorry, Honey. We’ll be quiet from now on.’ I murmur.
Imogen stares at us for a second before she spins on her heels, slamming the door shut behind her.
***
‘Where were you, Nathan?’ Imogen’s voice is shrill and vicious.
‘The operation went for longer than we had planned, he died on my table. It was only through sheer luck that we were able to bring him…’
‘Liar!’
I stand there shocked. What have I done now?
‘Imogen…’
‘Don’t you dare Imogen, me. I know you were with her.’ Her eyes are ferocious.
‘Who? I don’t understand, Imogen. Who was I with?’ I can hear the pleading in my voice but I don’t care. I need to understand.
‘You know who. That skank you’ve been cheating on your family with.’
‘Imogen… No! I would never do that to you and Alice.’
What on earth is going on here?
‘Lies. I know you’re lying, you cheating bastard.’
‘I’m not… I swear I’m…’
A sound behind me interrupts my pleading. Turning, I see the terrified face of Alice peeking from her room. She steps into the hallway, clothed in her pajamas. My willpower breaks at the concern and fear in her eyes.
‘Alice. Sweetie, please go back to bed. Everything’s alright, I will be right in to read to you.’
I watch hesitation spread across her face before she walks back into her room. I turn around, and see Imogen grabbing her purse, her hand already reaching for the door.
‘Imogen, where are you going?’
‘Out! I can’t bear to see you at the moment… Don’t expect to see me until tomorrow… if ever.’
I watch the door slam shut, and hear the sounds of her angry footsteps stomping away. What has happened to us? I stand there, lost, staring at a door that always seems to slam in my face.
‘Daddy?’
Once again Alice is standing in the hallway. This time she that can see the concern in my face.
‘Hi, Sweetie.’
‘Is Mummy coming back, Daddy?’
‘Of course, Sweetie. She’s just going for a walk. Come on, let’s get you to bed.’
As always Alice’s room lightens my mood with all the stuffed animals, bows and pink. It makes me remember how innocent she is; I don’t know what I’ll do when she outgrows this room. I smile as I release her hand and watch her clamor into the bed. With gentle affection I grasp her blanket and tuck it into her sides.
‘What book shall I read to you tonight, Alice?’ I ask while grabbing a stool from the corner.
‘My Wonderland, of course, Daddy.’
‘Again? Won’t you ever get sick of it?’
‘No, of course not.’ Alice giggles following our routine.
With an exaggerated sigh, I grab the hardcover book from her bedside and prepare my best storyteller voice.
‘Alice in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll.’
‘Me in Wonderland,’ corrects Alice, her eyes flashing blue at her joke.
‘Yes… of course. You in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll.’ I open to the first page, ‘Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do...”
As I read, the words ahead begin to disappear…
I rub eyes, maybe if I sit here for a moment, the words will become substantial again and I can continue reading. But as much as I want them to return, they kept fading… Instead I can hear the sounds of footsteps on linoleum floor.
“Daddy?”
Alice’s face tells me she is scared, I drop the book and reach to touch her… to comfort her.
***
The harsh fluorescent lights blind me as I uncover my face. Disorientated, I gaze around me to find nothing has changed. In front of me, the girl who is far too young, is twisting her hands. At the desk, the receptionist is still on the phone. I’m back in the waiting room. The sounds of footsteps are growing louder. Turning in my chair I face the corridor. Moments later, Imogen appears, propped up by a stern nurse. She looks sick, tired, deathly. I can’t believe it, despite everything I said she went ahead and did it anyway. In this fraction of a moment I remember fragments of a conversation I wish I could forget.
‘Nathan, it’s my body and my choice… you know it’s the right thing to do… you’re going to become a doctor… we’re both too young… we’re not ready for that kind of responsibility yet… I’ll just end up resenting you.’
This is the moment when I know for certain that I will never meet my Alice. She will forever be a dream, forever lost down the rabbit hole with nothing to do.
