In Her Eyes (3 page)

6

Shands

April 3, 2015

Including college residents, Shands Hospital has almost one thousand physicians and over eight thousand nurses. How did Ben know this? Because for the last two days he felt as if he’d talked to nearly every one of them. And because it said it on the giant plaque he was standing in front of.

There was a cancer center, a heart care center, women’s services, neuromedicine specialties, orthopedics, emergency medicine, radiology, and urology just to name a few.

To put it bluntly. Shands Hospital was fucking huge.

He was surprised he’d even made it through so many hospital wings without the slightest question of who he was or why he was asking about a resident physician named Casey Taylor. He was sure by now there were posters of him all over the place with eight simple words written on them: “Do not talk to this kid; he’s crazy.”

He stopped a few steps outside the building in front of a giant blue board that read, “UF Health is Baby Friendly.” He looked up at the red, blue, purple, and yellow checkered windows that rose for 10 floors. He was at the last place he wanted to be: Shands Children’s Hospital.

For a moment he considered just forgetting about the whole thing. This girl had said, what, two sentences to him?

For all he knew there could be posters of her around school that read: “Do not talk to this girl; she’s crazy.”

He laughed to himself, thinking how Parker would rephrase that. “The crazier, the better.”

After about two hours of walking around the hospital, Ben was no closer to finding her than he was two days ago.

What he could describe of Casey ended up describing about thirty percent of the women that worked there, which was nearly three thousand women. That wasn’t helpful at all. And that was just from the people that would actually talk to him. Most of them either looked at him like they were about to call security, or they just ignored him completely.

Ben walked by several rooms that looked exactly how he remembered them. Eggshell colored hospital beds were covered with crisp white sheets, tucked neatly at every side. Teddy bears and other stuffed animals lined the beds, and colorful animal balloons floated in front of the health monitors. Most of them also had a navy couch with wood trim that folded into a bed just below the prison like windows. He hated those rooms.

Turning the corner he found the same tiled mural of butterflies, and birds, and dolphins on the wall. And then he heard a familiar voice. A voice he really didn’t want to hear.

“Benson?” Dr. Sanchez called out.

The voice stopped Ben cold where he stood. For a moment he thought about just breaking into a run. That seemed to be the only solution he had lately. But something held him standing still where he was.

Dr. Sanchez walked up beside Ben. He had shaved his thick black mustache, and there were large bags under his eyes. He looked tired, Ben thought, possibly even sad.

“How are you?” Dr. Sanchez said, touching Ben’s shoulder lightly. “What brings you here?”

Ben didn’t answer.

“I’ve been reading about your races in the paper. That’s really great,” he said with a smile.

Ben’s eyes burned into the orange and green coral shaped designs on the floor, but he didn’t say a word.

“Well,” Dr. Sanchez said lightly, “I…I better get back to work. It was…good to see you.”

Ben wanted to nod, or at least acknowledge the man in some way, but what do you say to the man that killed your daughter?

7

Watching Him

April 3, 2015

The sliding glass doors closed behind Ben as he stepped outside the hospital. He closed his eyes and imagined an enclosed concrete building. On the inside there was a blue sky and several clouds, but on the outside there was nothing. He focused on the walls for several seconds, picturing himself alone inside them, away from the memories, and the noise, and the pain.

It was a method he had created to remove distractions while running that he called “creating the zone.” He breathed slowly for several more seconds, and then like a wave wiping away the footprints on a beach, his mind felt clear.

Ben took several steps down the concrete walkway. About every twenty feet was a square brick planter with a large oak tree planted inside. A heavy spring breeze lifted up bunches of brown serrated oak leaves and scattered them across his feet.

To his left was a small bike rack, and just behind it a green chain link fence surrounded by several small bushes in an attempt to hide the transformer.

To his right a few concrete picnic tables. The circular kind, with out of place adornments sculpted into each base. They were all full. Two guys in scrubs sat on top of one with their feet on the bench, another was full of students in plain clothes, and at the third sat a cute blonde girl holding the remains of a sandwich in one hand, propping open a book in her other.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

* * *

From a table about ten yards away, Casey Taylor finished the last of her turkey and cheese sandwich. She sat her book down and tossed a couple empty Ziplock baggies into her lunch box.

When she looked up she was surprised to see someone else sitting down at the bench on the other side of the table. She recognized him right away.

He had short dark brown hair that looked like it might be curly if he let it grow out. His features were strong and angular; he couldn’t be more than a year or two older than her, if that. He was wearing blue mesh shorts that ended a couple inches above his knees and looked like they were made out of cotton as opposed to nylon. And a plain white tee-shirt with the word “Florida” written across the front in blue clung to his lean frame. His name was Benson Wilder.

“You are an extremely hard girl to find,” he said.

Casey didn’t respond, but instead watched as he reached across the table and grabbed her keys. “Let’s try this again,” he said.

“Do you have time? I mean, there are probably lots of other half-naked girls on roller blades who need to be saved.”

As if on cue a group of three girls walked by. The redhead on the far side said, “Hey, Ben, good luck this weekend!”

Casey rolled her eyes, swung her lunch box over her shoulder and grabbed the keys out of his hand.

“Wait,” Ben said as she stood up from the table. “Go out with me.”

“What?” she said, turning around.

“Go out with me.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Okay, well, what would you like to know?”

She thought about it for a minute. All the boring questions popped into her mind.
Where are you from? What are you studying at UF? How do you like the track team?

She knew the questions didn’t really matter, though; in fact, she surprised herself when she realized she kind of, sort of, really did want to go out with him. She thought about Emma, though. Ultimately no twenty-something guy wanted to date a single mom. So, instead of taking a chance, she made up an excuse.

“It’s my first-year residency, and I have a…” She caught herself. Only a few of her classmates knew she had a daughter, yet for some reason she almost told him.

“You have a…?”

The way he looked at her right now was so intense it was intimidating. She almost felt compelled to tell him, but she’d gone down that road before and it never lead to anything good. “I have no time outside of the hospital.”

The door opened behind Casey. The same door Ben had walked out a few minutes ago. A middle-aged, and somewhat overweight black woman stuck her head out, “Casey.”

Casey turned around; it was Candy, one of the nurses. “Dr. Hasara is asking for you.”

She looked back at Ben. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“So, can I call you? Email? Text? Write you a letter?” Ben said as she walked away.

Casey looked back and part of her wanted all of the above, but instead she smiled, and continued walking through the sliding glass doors.

* * *

“Girl, who was that fine lookin’ man you was conversin’ with?” Candy asked.

“Just some guy,” Casey said. “Do you know what Dr. Hasara wanted?”

“Girl you need to quit changin’ the subject and go look in the mirror.”

Casey ran her hand through her ponytail. “Do I have something on me?”

The hallway split to the left and Dr. Hasara was standing near the nurse’s desk with a clipboard in his hand. Candy kept walking straight in the other direction. Without stopping, she said, “You don’t got anything on you. I just wanted you to see the look in your eyes when you talk about that boy.”

Before Casey could respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She looked down at the screen; it was Nikki.

She didn’t want to answer right now, but ever since Emma’s surgery she had developed this terrible habit where she believed every phone call might be an emergency. “Nikki,” she said, “is everything okay? I can’t really talk right now.”

“Everything will be fine if you come out with me tonight,” Nikki said.

Casey didn’t have any plans, and Emma was staying over at a friend’s house. She was about halfway through with
Ugly Love
by Colleen Hoover and suddenly had a craving for cookie dough frozen yogurt, with chunks of brownie covered in chocolate syrup. That was all starting to sound like a good plan, so she gave the same response she always did, “I can’t tonight.”

Nikki didn’t respond. “Nikki?” Casey said. Again no response, but this time Casey heard a sound that had become too familiar lately: crying.

“Did Trevor do something again?” Casey asked, already knowing the answer. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Nikki managed between sobs. “I don’t know.”

“And how is going out tonight going to help?”

Nikki calmed down a bit. “I just…I just need to get my mind off him.”

This time Casey didn’t respond. To be honest she didn’t really want to go out tonight, or most nights for that matter. Nikki had always been there for her though. During high school a lot of Casey’s friends didn’t want much to do with her after they found out she was pregnant. But Nikki was by her side through everything. That’s why Casey said, “I’ll meet you there around ten if you promise me one thing.”

“Anything, Casey.”

“Promise me it’s over between you and Trevor.”

“It’s so over,” Nikki said. “I don’t want to even think about him again.”

Casey looked back at Dr. Hasara who was done talking with the nurse and walking in her direction. “I really gotta go though. I’ll call you when I’m off work.”

8

Dude

April 3, 2015

Ben sat there for a few more minutes, thinking for some reason she might come running back out of the hospital. But she didn’t. Apparently asking a girl out wasn’t as easy as it used to be.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked down at the screen. It was Parker.

“Hello?”

“Dude,” Parker said. “Where are you? I got something awesome for us to do tonight and you can’t say no.”

This scenario happened about twice a week. It was kind of like Groundhog’s Day, except Ben never got to do anything cool like rob an armored car, or learn ice sculpting. Still, he said the same thing he always said, “No.”

And then Parker said the same thing he always said.

“I figured you might say that, but I also figured you still owe me.”

“You still there?” Parker asked. Parker didn’t wait for a response and instead kept talking. “Okay, I’ll meet you back at the dorms around eight. We gotta leave by at least nine. Don’t be late.

“Okay,” Ben said.

“Dude. For real?”

“Yes, I owe you one. But if you say ‘dude’ one more time I’m going to reach through the phone and slap that word out of you. What is it with you guys from California and the word ‘dude’ anyways?”

“Dude, I don’t know. Sorry, it’s a habit. I’ll see you back at the dorm.”

9

Fight Night

April 3, 2015

After class Ben went to heaven.

At least that’s what all the football players called the Bill Heavener Athletic Complex.

The perimeter of the room was lined with offices for all the strength and conditioning coaches and nutrition specialists. While the center of the room contained just about every machine and free weight combination possible. And of course they were all specially monogrammed with the UF logo. Just in case the weights get lost. Or possibly the football players.

They didn’t like it when other athletes used their facility, which is pretty much the only reason Ben worked out here: he didn’t like the football players. It was late Friday afternoon though. There wasn’t an athlete in the whole building that he recognized. Most of the guys in there were probably a bunch of walk-ons still trying to prove themselves, something Ben could actually relate to.

Ben put a little more into his workout than he originally planned, trying to shake his mind from the incessant thoughts about Casey Taylor.

About an hour into his workout Ashley Brannick, a six foot five, three hundred pound lineman walked into the training room. “Let’s go fresh!” he yelled, referring to some of the younger guys working out.

Ben finished his last three reps on the incline bench at 225 pounds. “Holy shit,” Ashley said as he walked over to Ben. “If it isn’t Benson “Record Setting” Wilder. I never thought I’d see the day when one of you puny little runners would be in
my gym
puttin’ up some real weight.”

Ben stood up as a few of the other guys were making their way towards Ashley’s beckon. He tapped Ashley on the belly as he walked by. “Some of us put up the weight,” he looked back and pointed at Ashley, “and others put it on.”

Ben saw a few of the guys start laughing as he walked out.

* * *

By the time he got to the dorm it was a little after seven and of course the first words he heard when he walked in were…

“Dude, where the crap have you been?”