Wait's End

It was downright jarring.  Not the waiting room, for a waiting room, it was quite a nice one.  The floors were those high end engineered laminate ones made to look like wide planked wood, stained in the gray so popular in new homes these days.  The seating was tastefully arranged, no uncomfortable plastic chairs here.  Instead there were upholstered love seats framed by table lamps and magazines on slick white tables. The magazines were even current, and the lamps environmentally friendly with LED lights in a soft white.  Even the receptionist who sat discretely behind a Chinese screen to allow for privacy when the patient came in was dressed for a high end office.  It was the single female sitting in the most uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, on the far side of the door, it was the only color in the room.  The chair, not the woman, though she was the only woman of color in the room as well.  The chair was a burnt orange-red.  The color was uncomfortable, the chair itself looked to be quite comfortable.  At least the woman in it did not look uncomfortable.  Unlike the rest of the patrons, she was not looking at her phone searching paint colors, or the most popular cupcake flavors to add to their Pintrest board, or instagraming their location.  She was knitting.  Not only was she knitting but she was in combat boots, in fact she was in full military uniform.  The left side of her blouse indicated U.S Army and the right Sierra.  The rank must have been there too, but not being familiar with the rank structure I couldn’t tell you what it was.  All of it was so out of place.  She was so out of place.  

I sat a few seats down and pulled a magazine from the table.  It was the month’s Greenville Times Best Preschools edition.  Flipping through the magazine I surreptitiously watched Ms. Sierra from the corner of my eye.  She had a wedding ring on but did not seem to be waiting for anyone, unlike the other patrons who were in pairs, or obviously expecting a partner since all the singles eyes went to the door when it opened.  I was waiting too, but knew my other would not be arriving for a good ten minutes.  She continued to knit.  I could not tell what she was knitting however, since the project grew painfully slow until she put down the knitting and scrambled through her many pockets before pulling out a phone.  It must have been on vibrate as the protocol for the waiting room dictated.

“Hello.”

“Yes, this is she.”

“No, I am not in the office, I will be back around 1400.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I really cannot leave right now.  It was a beast to rearrange my schedule and get this appointment.”

“Yes of course.  What is your number?  Could you text it to me, that would be easiest..”

“Thank you, I will call you when I am back.”

She picked up her knitting again but did not begin, instead she pulled out her phone and looked at it indecisively.  She swiped up and was about to search for something when “Mrs Sierra” was called.  

--

I hated when Paul channel surfed, it made me dizzy, but he claimed waiting around for commercials was a waste of time.  A hidden part of me enjoys commercials, they are the most creative thing in otherwise banal sitcoms and repeated stories of war and protests.  

“The American Embassy and military headquarters in the Green Zone of Baghdad was attacked today by those claiming to be follow Isis.”

Putting my hand on Paul was my way of telling him to stop at the channel.  He glanced at me quizzically, I usually avoided the evening news.

“Three contractors and two military members were killed during the attack.  Their names have not yet been released, pending notification to their family members.”

I removed my hand from his arm and he continued surfing.

---

It was time for another check-up.  I was beginning to despise the office, despite the calming waiting room and well heeled patrons.  I was beginning to despise everything -- not sleeping will do it to you.  A persistent sore back, swollen feet, constant heartburn, and bruises from the inside out will do it to you.  All I could do was tell myself, a few more weeks, a few more weeks.

The sight was jarring.  She was there.  Sitting in the same burnt orange-red chair.  She was not knitting this time, she just sat.  Her uniform was different, it had side seams to slide over her growing midsection.  She wore tennis shoes instead of combat boots.  She looked haggard, not calm and serene as she had last time.  I sat in the same chair, pulling the first magazine to me.  This month’s edition of News Week Best Business Schools.  

The opening soundtone played and all eyes turned to the sound accusingly.  She scrambled in her pockets and pulled out her phone.

“Hello.”

“Hi mom.  No, I’m at the doctors.”

“No, nothing is wrong, just a check-up.”

“I know mom, thanks. This is something I had to do on my own.”

“I know.  But I will have to do things on my own eventually.”

“Yes, I will call you when I get home.”

“Mrs Sierra”.  She was gone.

-- 

Why wouldn’t he just come already, I feel I had been waiting a lifetime and in a sense I had.  He was our last chance and I am grateful he stuck.  Now I felt stuck.  Walking the neighborhood was becoming a joke to our neighbors who would lean out their front doors or wave from their gardens, “taking his time huh?”  As if I needed to be reminded.  

--

“Paul, wake up, it is time.”

“Time? What time?.”

“Time to go to the hospital.”

---

“I’ll be back in a few hours love,  I just have to do the rounds.  You can get up and walk around, just let the nurses’ station know when you are going.”

“Ok. How many others are here?”

“Just three of you.”

--

Her presence was jarring.  There she was, Mrs. Sierra, standing at the nursery window as I made my way slowly down the hall.  I shuffled closer.  

“Which one is yours?”

“The one in the middle.”

“A little girl.”

“Yes.”

“What is her name?”

“Antonia.”

“A beautiful name.”

“After her daddy.”

“Is he here?”

“No, he will never be here.”

Her response was jarring.

--

“The American Embassy and military headquarters in the Green Zone of Baghdad was attacked on May 24th by those claiming to follow Isis.  The names of the casualties were just released:  Benjamin Callahan, Jason Lee, Bradley Moyden, Sarah James, and Antonio Sierra.”