The Chained Lady

The stars were so dim in the city. Even from the rooftop of my tall apartment building, I could hardly see all those stars that I once loved as a kid. The milky way was gone. So was Aquila, my favorite constellation. Its great wings that I had imagined so fiercely were now faded pinpoints of light against a black canvas.

I sighed. Now was not the time for stargazing. Tomorrow would be an early day followed by visiting dad. Even now, I shuddered at the idea of visiting him. He needed the company, he wanted the company, he even deserved the company. But I hated the thought of going to see him in his dark hospital room.

There wasn’t much to do about that tonight though. Now was the time to sleep. I picked up my pillow and headed back inside of the building. The lights inside felt cold and dismal, just like the dim stars from outside.

Soon enough I was back in my apartment. My home. It wasn’t much. Of course, I was used to not having much. Back home, we only had two rooms in the house. One for my parents, even if only my dad stayed in it once we got older. And one for the children, me and my five siblings all packed together into one room made even smaller by the large bed we shared. It wasn’t what anyone would call comfortable, but it was home. I still remember the warm glow of the fire, its shadows dancing across the carpet. I smiled at the thought.

The apartment didn’t have a fire or a carpet. The lights inside were from cheap lamps that I’d picked out of a dumpster behind a richer apartment years ago. The couch was in tatters from a stray cat I’d kept for a time before it decided to be a stray cat again. My bed tucked itself into a corner under a window.

The window was my favorite part of the whole place honestly. I could look up at the buildings that towered above me and their bright lights, it was almost a substitute for the stars that I remembered from my childhood. Looking down, I could see the people roaming the streets all day. At this hour and temperature, only the foolish and the desperate would walk those streets.

Peering through the frosted glass, I had the good luck of seeing one of the foolish. Alexander was standing outside. He had a grocery bag in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. Right now, he seemed to be trying to work up the courage to ring the entry bell.

I smiled down at this foolish man, a warm glow in my stomach. Then I pulled the curtains closed and got in bed. For a time, I laid there in the dark. My bed was uncomfortable, my throat was dry, and my mind was racing. I sat up.

Alexander was still standing outside apparently. He shifted from one foot to another but had that charming look of determination on his face.

I swore and put on my coat. He was still at the entrance when I stepped outside into the cold night.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t expect you to come out.”

“I can’t imagine you would.” I smiled wryly.

“That’s exactly the tone I would expect from you.” Alex said.

I stared at him unflinchingly. Then, strangely enough, he laughed. It started as a smirk that crept across his face before it became a roaring laughter from deep in his stomach. Soon enough, I had joined him in it. We laughed together on that cold street for what felt like hours but must have only been minutes.

“So.” Alex began. “Where were you going on this freezing evening?”

“I came out to see you, you dunce. It wouldn’t have been right to just leave you out here freezing all night.”

“You knew I was here?”

“Not the entire time. I saw you from my window.”

“And then you came down?”

“No.” I smiled. “Then I went to sleep. After that, I came down.”

Alexander smiled too. “That’s to be expected then. Well the least you could do to make up for it would be to let me in for a warm drink.”

“It seems you have warm enough drinks in that bag of yours though, doesn’t it now, Alex?”

“Yes I do. But they hardly make for good drinking without good company now do they? And I really would appreciate a nice, comfortable couch to sit on to go with that good drinking and company.”

“You know as well as I do that my couch is not comfortable, nor am I good company.”

“On the contrary, it is that very dry humor of yours that I find so endearing.”

“Perhaps I should capitalize on it and send you on your way then.”

“Perhaps you should.”

I gave out a long sigh, comical in its extreme length. “Very well then. Perhaps I shall entertain a guest.” I tapped my foot on the icy steps. “But, should I go out of my way to help a man that has chosen this very fate for himself? Perhaps your goal in this endeavor was suffering in and of itself.”

“I can assure you that it was not.”

“Well then. For what other reason could a man leave himself upon the doorstep of countless persons domicile in the cold?” I mused.

“Would ‘to see the woman I love work’ then?” Alexander said plainly.

I stopped speaking, entirely stopped in my train of thought. “You…” I stammered. “You can’t do that! That’s not how you play the game! And who says that I love you back!” I crossed my arms to emphasize the point.

“The fact that you’re going to let me in speaks well enough for itself.”

I frowned at him to make my displeasure known, then relented and opened the door. Together we walked back up to my apartment and soon enough we sat on my comfortable couch with warm drinks in our hands. The lighting seemed a bit cheerier now.

We talked through many hours and many drinks together on that couch. Occasionally leaning closer until we were hand in hand. Alexander told me of his time working at the hospital, of the patients he worked with and the mishaps the hospital staff worked through. I told him of my own life at the office. Of Richard, my coworker that seemed to think he was witty and of the clients I talked to during my long days.

But all lights had to fade and soon we were saying our goodbyes at that same frosty doorstep we’d begun the night together at. My eyelids had become heavy with sleep an hour ago and now I was ready to fall into bed, work tomorrow would not be kind. Alexander seemed just as tired and I pitied him for his walk home.

“Will you be safe getting back?” I asked. “I could go with you if you need.”

“And how will you get back? You’re more tired than I.”

I didn’t have an answer for that.

Alexander stepped down the stairs and gently kissed my hand before looking up at me. His eyes twinkled like all the stars in the sky. “Can I see you again?”

“You ask that every time we meet.”

“Because I worry every time we part.”

I held his hand tighter in my own. “Then, yes. You may see me again.”

“I will come by tomorrow.”

With one last squeeze of my hand, he left. I watched him from the doorstep until he rounded a corner and disappeared from view. Even after, I watched for a while. Finally I went upstairs to bed.

The next morning did go well. My head ached from lack of sleep and my body from sleeping on my hard-as-rocks mattress. The walk to work did little to alleviate the pain and so I spent the next nine hours at the office trying to slowly recover from such a long night. When closing time finally came, I couldn’t have been happier.

If not for fact that I was to see my father today. The hospital was nearby, I lived here only so I could be nearby. All of my siblings had moved far away to happier lives, I was the only one that stayed behind. I was the oldest, someone had to watch over dad. I lived near him, I worked near him, I did everything near him now.

The hospital felt colder inside than out despite the winter’s chill. The nurses smiled at me as I walked through, they all knew me well. The walls felt like they were closing in around me, squeezing tight so that this time, I wouldn’t be able to escape. There was my father’s room up ahead. The same room he’d had for years now. The room I’d been dreading for years.

I met Doctor Wilson outside of dad’s room. The doctor had just been leaving, he gently shut the door behind him. This was the third doctor during my dad’s stay.

Doctor Wilson held out his hand in greeting. “You’re here! I was just about to call. Your father is awake for the first time in two months, he woke up just a couple hours ago and we finally finished running our tests. He seems to be in good health.”

I took his hand and attempted a smile. “That’s good to hear. Is he… is he able to talk?”

Doctor Wilson’s smile faltered. “He is.”

“Okay.”

I left Doctor Wilson at the door and went inside.

My dad laid in the hospital bed at the center of the room. Tubes and cords and all sorts of medical equipment was hooked up to him and his body was covered head to toe with bandages. It looked like he’d tried to take his hospital gown off before giving up halfway. A sickly sweet scent filled the room. I hated that smell. It was the air fresheners that the nurses used in some of the rooms. They only used it for certain cases though.

Next to his bed was a vase of wilted flowers that hadn’t been tended for a couple weeks. Next to that was a chair worn smooth with use. I sat in the chair.

He was looking the other way at the one-way mirror that sat in the wall. This had been an observation room at one time in the hospital’s past. They’d even used it for my father when he first came here. No one sat on the other side of that mirror, now.

I cleared my throat.

He ignored me.

“Dad,” I said.

He still ignored me.

“Dad,” I pleaded. “Please.”

“Go away.” His voice sounded like gravel scraping across rock.

“You should drink more water.”

“I can’t drink anything.”

Silence filled the room like a malady might fill the air. I shifted uneasily in my chair and looked around at the curling wallpaper and the too-small room.

“I should leave.”

I got up and faster than I could think, my dad turned in his bed and grabbed me by the wrist. His bandages were pealing now and underneath I could see his sickly flesh. I closed my eyes and tried to yank my hand away but he held it as tight as a vise.

“Lauren. Please. Lauren.” He was talking now. I hated it when he talked. “Please Lauren, don’t leave. Don’t leave me.”

I spoke with shuddering breaths. “I am not Lauren.”

“You look just like her. Oh how I loved her. Oh how I loved my Lauren.”

“Lauren is dead.”

“No! How dare you say those things about your mother young lady! This is not how I raised you, Sarah!”

“Sarah is dead too.”

His grip finally loosened. “Dead? Both of them?”

“Yes.”

“My wife. The love of my life.” He was only whispering now. “My only daughter.”

His words hurt like a knife in my heart.

“You don’t remember our camping trips?” I was whispering too.

“Camping trips? What about them?”

“When we would go far away. Far away to the woods and we would watch the stars.”

“The stars? I never saw the stars. Never. Now me and the boys? We would fish for hours and hours. We had such fun camping. Where are the boys? Where are my sons?”

“You don’t remember the stars?” The tears started to flow, they always did when he talked.

“Who gives a damn about the stars!” He roared, flinging my hand away and turning back on his side to look at the mirror. “I just want to see my sons again.”

“They all left. After the accident.”

“All my children. All my children have abandoned me.”

“I’m still here.”

“Leave.”

“Okay.”

The walk home hurt.

That night, I laid on the roof again. I looked up at the constellations that I used to share with my father. My favorite had always been Aquila, The Eagle. I looked at its darkened stars high up in the sky. Its wings almost looked folded from down here. As if they were pinned to its side.

The heavy metal door to the rooftop clanged open behind me, then shut just as fast. I looked up in surprise as Alexander stepped out onto the rooftop.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I tried to say something back but choked on my own words.

“The other nurses, they told me that you visited your father today.”

It was impossible to get the words out. I was filled with this horrible torrent of emotion. My vision blurred as the tears started to flow more freely. Alexander walked over and took me in his arms, holding me close.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered in my ear. “It’ll be alright.”

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

He held me for a time. Alexander held me close while I stained his shirt with my tears. Finally, the tears stopped coming.

“We used to go camping together. He doesn’t remember, but we did.”

“What did you do together?”

“So many things. I looked forward to it every year. Just me and him together. We would go fishing, we would hike, we would do everything.”

A half smile crossed my face while I recounted tales of me and my father’s time together. Tales of how we would travel to all sorts of parks and preservation together. How we would explore and have fun and all the love I had for my father.

“My favorite thing was to look at the stars though. Ever since I moved to the city, they’ve been so dim. It’s like they died along with my dad.”

“My grandma used to tell me stories about the stars,” Alexander said. “She would tell me stories about the great heroes in the constellations.”

“Would you tell me one?”

He smiled at me. “Of course.”

We both looked up at the sky as he began his tale.

“Long ago, back when the world was young. There lived a young and beautiful woman named Andromeda. She traveled the world, going anywhere and everywhere. Her freedom was her life and Andromeda would give anything just so she could fly freely. However, one day she came across a bird trapped within a snare. The bird was in horrible pain and could no longer fly so Andromeda begged with its captor that the captor might free this poor bird. The captor told her that he would only free the bird if Andromeda took the poor birds place in chains. Thus, Andromeda became the chained lady.

“The bird hobbled away, unable to fly again after the snares injuries, and unable to thank Andromeda for what she had done for the bird. Andromeda cried that she had been trapped so tightly in this new snare, yet she did not regret her choice. Because she knew that if she were to leave, she would condemn the bird to death. Years passed with Andromeda bound tightly, her world had grown smaller with each passing day until her yearning had all but left.

“But one day, a wolfhound passing by found the bird close to death in a sickly glade. The wolfhound followed the bird back to Andromeda where it found her bound in chains and the bird unknowing of what Andromeda had done for it. The wolfhound stayed with Andromeda and together they recounted stories of their old lives. Eventually, The Wolfhound snapped Andromeda’s chains apart, and the two of them left for a new life of adventure together. After a long happy life, they went and joined the bird in the stars where it now rested. This is the story of Andromeda the Chained Lady, Aquila the Eagle, and Lupus the Wolfhound.”

They sat together after the story for a while. I wrapped my arms tighter around Alexander and let my head fall to his chest as we both gazed at the stars together.

“That was a good story.” I whispered.

“I’m glad.”

“I miss the stars.”

“Then let’s go find them. Together, we could leave this city behind. Go out to the country. You could be free at last.”

“You would do that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

“Then let’s go.”

I took one last look up at the city’s bleak stars and for a moment, Aquila’s wings seemed to be in flight. Soon I would see those same wings again, away from the city and its troubles.

I leaned over and kissed Alexander.

“I love you.”