LOST
No Accidents

Stew was finishing his lunch when he heard a knock on the door. The visitor poked his head in. It was his best friend, Marc.

“Hey! I heard you were awake. Happy late Halloween!”

“Thanks. Happy Halloween,” Stew replied, pulling his sheet over his head. “Boo.”

“That’s hilarious. You don’t think they’d let you cut holes in that and ride around the hospital in the wheelchair and trick or treat, do you?”

“Probably not,” Stew chuckled. “Especially since Halloween was four days ago.”

“I know, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“Jade thinks it was.”

“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot about her. Things okay?”

“We’re done. Broke it off last night.”

“Really? Good riddance, I say.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

Marc stood silent for a moment, looking at his shoes. “I brought you some magazines and my MP3 player. I figured you’d be pretty bored,” he said with a slight shakiness in his voice, not being able to hide his emotions very well as he looked at Stew.

“Yeah, it kind of sucks. But thank you, Marc. I appreciate it.”

“So… you doing okay?” Marc asked, trying to regain his composure.

“Yeah. Just can’t wait to go home. Stuck here for a few more days, most likely.”

“Missed you at ScreamFest,” Marc said of the horror movie marathon he hosted at the theater.

“I know. I was really looking forward to it.”

“Well, when you get out of here, I’ll go buy them all on DVD—the ones I don’t already own—and we’ll watch them all, back to back. Our own mini-ScreamFest.”

“Awesome. Twelve hours of blood, gore and mayhem. How many people turned out this year?”

“About 175, total, which is pretty good. We had 160 last year.”

“Cool.”

“Stew… I’ve been avoiding saying this… but I’ve got to tell you—I don’t know what I would have done…”

“Marc, don’t do this.”

“We’ve been best friends for almost twenty years.”

“I know.”

“And to think we came this close…”

“Marc… I know. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m alive. I’m awake. We’re still best friends. Nothing’s going to change that.”

“I know. I just get emotional when I think about it.” Marc paused and let out a sigh, “So… who is this Alex your mom told me about?”

“She told you about her, huh?”

“Well, not much. Just that she’s a ‘she’,” Marc said, disappointed.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“…and her and this weird guy are the ones who saved you. He didn’t stick around but Alex brought you to the hospital and she was with you when you woke up.”

“That’s the short and not-so-sweet version.”

“Is she hot?”

“Yes. She is,” Stew said, matter-of-factly.

“So, when do I get to meet her?”

“She’s coming by this afternoon.”

“Damn. I can’t stay for much longer today. Neil is off this week, so, I’ve got to sign for the prints when they’re delivered and then build them—trailer packs and everything. You know how I like to get things done early.”

“Wow, look at you. Theater owner, rolling up his sleeves and getting down and dirty.”

“Hey, it wasn’t that long ago that I was a projectionist and you were in concession—going home every night smelling like stale popcorn butter.”

“Yeah, I remember those days. Mr. Marino was a trip. I’m so glad he sold it to you instead of letting it get torn down… or turned into a nightclub or something.”

“Yeah. Remember when that drunk guy came in and got too noisy? And when Marino told him to leave the guy tried to tackle him?”

“And then, Marino body slammed him into the wall in Auditorium Two…,” Stew added before they both burst out into laughter. “Oh, man. It’s too bad you’re going to miss Alex.”

“So, are you guys seeing each other now?”

“Yeah,” Stew replied sarcastically. “I took her to the hospital cafeteria on our first date.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. But you plan on seeing her once you get out, right? I mean, I can tell by the way your face relaxes when you talk about her that you like her.”

“Huh?”

“No, no. It’s true. Think about it—when you’re telling a joke and concentrating on getting it right, your face is all tense and then, when you deliver the punch line and you hit it just right and everybody laughs… your face relaxes. You do the same thing when you talk about someone you like.”

Stew cocked an eyebrow up, giving away the fact that he felt a little awkward knowing that Marc paid that close attention.

“I’m sorry. I notice the tiniest of details.”

“It’s okay,” Stew replied, a bit sheepishly. “You can’t help it. Hey, before you leave, would you mind helping me into that wheelchair?” Stew asked, pointing to his lone mode of escape from his prison cell of boredom. “I’d like to go outside for a little while before Alex gets here.”

“Sure. What do you want me to do?”

“Just make sure I don’t fall and bust my butt,” Stew returned, chuckling.

Marc wheeled the chair from the corner over to Stew’s bed and helped him into it. “You want me to push you anywhere?”

“No, I need the exercise. You go do what you need to do. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Marc. Now, go. You have a theater to run.”

“Okay. Just call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Marc headed down the hall as Stew watched him go. He grabbed the MP3 player Marc had loaned him off the bedside table, put on the headphones and turned it on before wheeling himself out into the hallway.

“Going somewhere?” Damon, his nurse for the day, asked, looking up from a chart for another patient.

“Road trip. I’ll be back after awhile. I just need some air.”

“You really need someone to go with you,” Damon said as he gave Stew an authoritative nod. “You know that, right?”

“I’ll be fine. Really.”

“Just be careful, man,” Damon warned, shaking his head and smiling. “I don’t want no accidents. All right?”

“You got it.” Stew rolled down the hall, a rock soundtrack provided a little traveling music.

Stew sat in the courtyard, his eyes closed, basking in the sun. He loved to feel the sun on his face, warm and welcoming, in stark contrast to the chilly, October air. Suddenly, he felt something land on his knee. He opened his eyes, expecting to see a butterfly or a leaf, judging by its weight. Instead, he saw a tiny mop of orange hair, fuscia and gold wings and the smallest human face he had ever seen. Before he could make out even one more distinguishable feature, the faerie was giggling and flying circles around his head. And a moment later, she was gone. She flew up and over the high walls of the courtyard, leaving Stew to wonder just what the hell he had just seen. But then he remembered. The doctor had told him after he woke up that the damage to his occipital lobe could cause hallucinations.

Just a hallucination. Nothing magical or fantastic. Just a random image for my eyes only.

“Enjoying the weather?” a soft voice whispered into his ear as he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“What the…” he exclaimed, yanking the earbud headphones out of his ears and turning his head toward the sound of the voice. It was Alex. “Oh, Jesus. You scared the living crap outta me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I wasn’t expecting you for another couple of hours.”

“Yeah, well, my Illustrative Imaging class got cancelled. I thought you might like to have lunch with me,” she explained as she pulled a fast food bag out from behind her back.

“Burgers. Awesome,” Stew said excitedly.

“I figured hospital food was getting a bit old,” she said, putting the bag of food on Stew’s lap. She wheeled him over to a table and sat down herself. “So, what’s new?”

“Well, you just missed my friend, Marc,” he said as he took a burger out of the bag. “He was hoping to get to meet you, but he had some things that needed to be done at the theater. He owns the Renegade Theater downtown. I’m not sure if I told you.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” he replied, chewing on a bite of hamburger. “He shows a lot of the independent films and older movies. Of course, I don’t have to pay. He won’t let me.”

“Cool.”

“I’ll have to take you there sometime,” Stew said, slyly hinting at a date. “Anyway… hopefully, you’ll get to meet him soon.”

“Yeah, I look forward to it. Hey—Detective Alderman called me this morning.”

“Yeah? Did she replace Wiz?”

“Yes. She did. Apparently, he’s just a homeless guy who got picked up for vagrancy and when they released him, they made a mistake in the computer or something. And he took off as soon as I mentioned the police needing a statement from him because he was afraid of getting put in jail for vagrancy again.”

“I can understand that. So, I was saved by a homeless guy? He deserves a medal or something.”

“She said he doesn’t want that kind of attention.”

“Well, I want to meet him, at least. Bring him here for a hot meal.”

“He doesn’t like cops. And they’re all over this hospital. Once you get out,” Alex assured him. “Okay?”

Stew nodded in quiet compliance.

“I was actually thinking about giving him a place to stay,” Alex continued. “It’s the least I could do. For awhile, anyway.”

“Can you trust him?”

“Yeah, she assured me I could.”

“Alex?”

“Yes?”

He swallowed and bit his lip before continuing. “When you were behind me, you didn’t notice anything peculiar, did you?”

“Umm… no. Why?”

“Nothing. Nevermind. It’s just… it was nothing.”

“What is it, Stew? You can tell me?”

“No, it’s silly. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m curious. Tell me. Please?”

“I saw a faerie on my knee. It had orange hair… pink and gold wings. It flew away before I could get a better look at it.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a butterfly?”

“Yes,” he replied impatiently. “It had a human face.”

“Hmmm…”

“It was just a hallucination, though. The doctor told me I might have them. And since you didn’t see it and I saw it right before you whispered in my ear…” Then, he remembered something. But I felt it while my eyes were still closed, he thought, and he decided he had better not share that little piece of information with Alex.

“I’m sorry. If it helps, I wish I could have seen it,” she said as she placed a comforting hand on his knee.

“Yeah, I know.” A rush of hormones made his stomach jump at her touch. It took him a moment to regain his composure. “I guess it’s just something I’ll have to learn to live with. Let’s just keep it between you and me, though. Okay?”

“Deal. Do you want some fries?” she asked, changing the subject as her hand left his knee and reached into the bag.

Mr. Trent had been watching Oprah but had gotten up to heat up some leftover Chinese. When he came back, the local news was on and their target was the lead-in story.

“Local Gazette film critic, Stew Kasey, is recovering today after being attacked in an alley on Friday, leaving him unconscious for nearly two days,” the dark haired anchorwoman said encouragingly.

“Hey, boss. Check it out. I think this is our guy.”

Zachary looked up from the newspaper he had been reading at his desk.

“One of his alleged attackers was taken into custody Friday evening but was mysteriously killed while in his holding cell,” the anchorwoman continued. “Internal Affairs, as well as Charlotte Police, are conducting an investigation into the murder. Police are still searching for the second attacker. The suspect is a white male, early thirties, six feet tall, dark hair. He was last seen wearing a dark gray business suit. If you have any information pertaining to either incident, please, contact Crime Stoppers immediately.”

“Stew Kasey, huh?” Zachary noted as he rubbed his chin.

“We had the right guy, didn’t we, Boss?”

“Yes. That was Xamn. He just goes by a different name now.”

“So, what do we do?”

“We do nothing. We wait. I’m sure there’s a guard on his door at the hospital. The police are looking for you. And the dagger is still missing. Modeos might even come looking for us. The least I can do is give him a chance to replace me. I couldn’t bring myself to deprive him, nor myself, that privilege.” Zachary smiled, his dark eyes fixed on the anchorwoman as she moved on to another story, having already delivered the news he had been waiting for.