THAT PARTICULAR NIGHT

by Bernadette Inclan

Angela walks slowly down the dark, cold corridor. The hallway is so dark that she uses her hand to guide her.
“Where are the lights?” she asks herself. “I can’t understand why it’s so cold.”
She feels the familiar pattern of the closet doorknob, and she opens it. She pats the wall for the light switch, but she’s unable to locate it.
“Forget it!” she tells herself. “Just get the blanket and get back under warm covers.”
Now she pats around for a blanket deep inside the dark closet. She is so tired and sleepy she’s finding it difficult to keep her eyes open. As she reaches up toward the highest shelf, something falls into her arms and startles her. She jumps back into the room and sees the form on the floor near her feet. It’s so dark she can’t see what it is, but it’s not moving. She bends and tries to open her eyes wide to see.

“Oh my gosh, it’s Katrina!” she happily exclaims as she lifts her favorite rag doll into her arms.
“Oh Katrina, where did you come from? I haven’t seen or held you in years!” she said aloud to the old rag doll and slid her back against the wall and sat down.
“I remember how you were always with me and how I always felt safe with you. Katrina, why is it so cold?” She smiled to herself thinking that she half expected Katrina to answer back.
“Remember my godmother, Mary, Katrina?” Angela leaned her head back with closed eyes and began talking out loud.
“Mary just celebrated her 50th wedding anniversary, and I flew to Houston to attend it. It was a night as magical as the Christmas that you came into my life. I danced and danced …”

“There’s something that you need to know about that night,” Katrina softly said to Angela.
Angela sighed deeply and didn’t even flinch when Katrina spoke. “Oh, Katrina, you have always been the most magical of my dolls. That was the best Christmas.”
“I don’t mean Christmas,” Katrina responded.
“But that’s when we became inseparable,” Angela reminded her, “you stayed with me through everything. Remember that daddy was hurt and couldn’t work, and Mr. & Mrs. Santa Claus brought you to me that Christmas Eve? A truly magical Christmas Eve.”
“Angela,” Katrina softly whispered as if trying to soothe a troubled child, “that Christmas is not about what you need to know.”
Angela remained still and quiet. Her breathing was becoming that of deep sleep.
“No,” Angela murmured, “Mary’s party and dance were that magical of a night too. Everyone was so happy to have me there, I was in heaven.”
Katrina stirred in Angela’s tight embrace.
“Let me tell you about that night, Angela, now this is important. Are you listening?
“Mmmm,” Angela moaned, “do we have to do it now? I’m so tired, and it’s very very cold! Let’s crawl into bed, and you can tell me all about it.”
Angela rose to her feet using the cold dark wall for assistance. She held Katrina’s hand in hers as she used the other hand to guide her to her bed.
In the distance, she heard the sound coming from her room that just never gave her a good night’s sleep.
“Tomorrow, Katrina, remind me to take care of that. I must call a repairman. Will you remind me?”
Katrina didn’t respond.
Alarmed, Angela stopped and pulled the doll to her face and, once again, tried to open her eyes wide to see her beloved Katrina.
“You are still talking to me, aren’t you Katrina?” she asked desperately.
Katrina replied in a soft whisper of a voice, “Yes.”
There was that familiar sound again. It seemed to be getting louder.
“We’re almost there, Katrina. When did my house develop such a long hallway?” she asked out loud expecting no particular response. “I’m so tired.”
Angela slipped into the bed, which was cold now, and rubbed her feet against the sheets. The fabric against her skin was a comforting gesture that enabled her to fall asleep.
“Are you ready, Angela,” Katrina asked, “Are you ready to hear about what you need to know about that night.”
“Christmas Eve?” Angela mumbled.
“No,” Katrina answered patiently, “your godmother’s anniversary party.”
“Okay,” Angela whispered,” tell me what I need to know. Katrina, would you go bang that contraption that’s making that noise? I can’t concentrate!”

— * * * —

“Angela, what’s that you’re saying?” The nurse turned off the monitor after replacing the empty medication bags that were setting off the alarm. She turned to Angela’s godmother, Mary and her sister, Lillie.
“She’s in a coma. She suffered what is called a sheer brain injury from the car accident. She could be in the coma a matter of days or several weeks. Why don’t you ladies go home and get some rest? She’s in good hands. ”

 

About the Author:

 

Bernadette Inclan, SJHMC is a Cytotechnologist with St. Joseph’s Hospital Health Center in Phoenix, Az. She was a graduate student at the University of Texas at San Antonio and received her masters in Health Care Administration from Southwest Texas State. Originally from Galveston Texas, she has lived in San Antonio, San Diego, Ca. and now resides in Phoenix. In addition to her love of writing short stories, Bernadette does extensive research in the area of Mexican – American history and genealogy. She does most of her writing in this genre and has been published in genealogy publications. Bernadette is married with two sons and a granddaughter.