Paranoia in the Hospital (Chapter X)

When Durval opened his eyes, he saw Dolores leaning over him. Her eyes were wide and fixed, her mouth slightly open. The woman looked like she had seen the devil himself. Durval’s sensations came back slowly. The first thing he felt was Dolores rubbing his hand vigorously.

— He opened his eyes! He opened his eyes! — she shouted.

Immediately a nurse and a doctor were around him. The guy shone a bright light in his eyes. It felt like the headlights of a truck. Durval scrunched his whole face and let out a weak groan.

— Durvalzinho… Talk to me, my dear — said Dolores.

Durval tried to speak, but only that hoarse groan came out of his mouth. He didn’t even know where he was. He looked around and saw the hospital room. There was a heart monitor to his right. Durval knew the device well; he had undergone two surgeries. The systolic was a bit below normal, and the diastolic was somewhat high. But the old man’s heart was still beating. At least he wasn’t dead, he thought.

— Mr. Durval, — said the doctor, — I am Dr. Mateus. You are out of danger. But you fractured three ribs, broke your femur in two places, and dislocated your shoulder.

The doctor was young, probably under thirty, with a sparse, well-groomed black beard covering his face. His eyes were bright and attentive.

— You were lucky. You will be here for some time — the doctor smiled. — This is Nurse Marisa; she will give you an injection for pain every eight hours.

Durval nodded slightly. It felt like there was a train whistling inside his skull. He scrunched his face once more.

The doctor and the nurse left the room, and Dolores leaned over her husband. She got very close and spoke softly.

— Do you want anything, my dear?

Durval muttered a “no” through his nose. He wouldn’t shake his head again, for now.

— I asked Joana to bring your flute; she should be arriving soon.

It had been a while since Durval played the flute. But all broken as he was, he wouldn’t even be able to hold the instrument. Even so, he felt happy that Dolores was there, full of care. It was nice to be married for so long to the same woman and know that there was someone who cared. Even if it was just to bring the flute that he certainly wouldn’t play.

Dolores didn’t ask anything about the accident. Durval thought it was better that way; he didn’t want to talk about it at that moment. But his mind wouldn’t leave him in peace. The images returned every moment. He remembered perfectly the feeling of cold in his stomach when he plummeted down the hill with the Corcel. The sound of the rain hitting the car’s body when it stopped after crashing into the tree. And the two sinister figures that kept looking at him from the top of the hill. One was tall and thin, the other shorter, slightly hunched to the side. That had been attempted murder. But why didn’t they come down to finish the job? And who had called the ambulance? Durval felt as paranoid as his friend Botelho. Finally, he fell asleep holding Dolores’s hand.