Novel: A Woman between Two Men – Part-35

The novel ‘A Woman between Two Men’, with an Albanian-American Theme, is authored by Carrie Hooper and Skifter Këllici

Kreshnik had reached the end of his rope. He jerked upright, his eyes aflame, as if he were delirious, rushed toward James, and grabbed him by the throat. Taken aback by this unexpected attack, James pushed Kreshnik who lost his balance, fell, and hit his head on the edge of the table. When James saw him sprawled out on the floor, almost breathless, and with a deep gash on his forehead, he walked over to him, bent over him, and panicked for he thought Kreshnik was seriously hurt. He screamed, ran to the telephone, and did what Kreshnik had done when he had been intoxicated and had fallen off a ladder while repairing the roof. He knew 911 was the number to call in an emergency, and the dispatcher would send an ambulance to the house as had happened when James broke his leg. But James did not call 911, maybe because he didn’t trust the paramedics or thought they might be delayed. Instead, he called the hospital trauma ward where Mary worked and asked to speak to her. He believed she would give Kreshnik the same care she had given him. Who better than Mary to take care of Kreshnik? She had loved him and left him, not necessarily because she wanted to, but because she belonged to another. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten Kreshnik. Maybe James shouldn’t have tormented Kreshnik and insulted Mary. Maybe she wasn’t a wench.

After a brief pause, Mary came on the line.

“How may I help you, Sir?”

“Mary, my name is James Clemens. I’m sure you remember me. You took care of me a few months ago.”

“Yes, Sir, I remember you, but how may I help you?” she asked, almost mechanically. She sensed something awful when she heard James’ trembling voice. “Has something happened to you?”

“Not to me, but to Nik,” said James with tears in his eyes. “He got dizzy and hit his head on the table. Now he’s lying on the floor and doesn’t appear to be breathing. God forbid, if something should happen to him. Please, please come as soon as you can. Please, Mary!”

Mary heard the old man’s sobs. She had gotten to know him when she had treated him at the hospital. She hung up the phone, clenched her lips to suppress a scream, and ran to the information office, unaware of what she muttered about the incident. She soon found herself in the ambulance with two other nurses and felt as if she were in a fog.

The driver held a piece of paper with the unfamiliar address. Mary gave him directions to the house she would not soon forget. What had happened to Kreshnik? Perhaps he had suffered a brain injury. God forbid! Mary did not want to think such a dreadful thought. She wanted to get there as quickly as possible. She wanted to see Kreshnik who had been unshaven, somber, and rough when she had first met him. He had fumed because the man she believed was his father had not gotten the help he needed. Now she was coming to take Kreshnik to the hospital, not because of a broken leg, but because of something else, perhaps more serious. Her attempt to drive Kreshnik from her mind had only increased her longing for him. She felt that longing as she got out of the car and ran up the stairs with James in tow, almost delirious. Kreshnik lay unconscious on his bedroom floor with a cut on his forehead. He was not the same Kreshnik of that magical night. Death haunted him like a ghost. Mary became hysterical when she saw him.

She approached him, bent over him, and touched his cheek, head, and chest with her burning hands. She was relieved to discover that although his breathing was labored, Kreshnik was alive.

“I don’t think he has a brain injury,” said the other nurse, who walked over to Mary so that he, too, could see Kreshnik. “But the scans will provide a clearer picture of what happened.”

Mary and the other nurses put a mask on Kreshnik, gave him oxygen, lifted him onto a stretcher, and put him in the ambulance. James gave Mary a look to indicate he wanted her to wait a moment. When they were alone, he said through his tears, “It was my fault. But what can you do? That’s the way I am.”

He shook his head between gasps and gave Mary a pleading look.

“Why? What happened?” she asked, burning with curiosity.

“May love not strike anyone’s head as it struck my Nik,” said James, his gaze fixed on Mary. “I told him that since you left him, he should stay away from you. He tried to shut me up. I don’t know how it happened, but I pushed him, and you know the rest. Put me in prison for a hundred years. I deserve it!”

He burst into tears again.

“How he suffers for you, my Dear,” he whispered, as if he were afraid the others would hear him as they went down the stairs. “Every night, he lays here deep in thought.”

Only then did Mary turn her head. She felt overwhelmed when she thought about what had happened that night in that bed, the silent witness of a dead dream.

“That’s not all. He keeps a lock of your hair as a talisman,” James continued.

He took a book from the dresser, opened it, took out the lock of hair, and lifted it up so Mary could see it.

Mary felt a lump in her throat but kept her composure.

“I don’t know how things will go for my Nik.”

James’ eyes glistened.

The sound of the ambulance’s siren startled Mary. She motioned to James to follow her down the stairs. Then, they got into the ambulance and hurried to the hospital.

The doctor, a plump man with a mustache, examined Kreshnik’s scan carefully.

“He hit his head hard, but he did not sustain a brain injury,” he explained. “Tomorrow around noon, if he has regained consciousness, he can go home.”

Mary, who had stayed with him, cried out with joy and went out in the hall to tell James the news. He broke down and threw his arms around her neck.

“I will tend to his wound. I will stay with him. He will perk up by tomorrow,” said Mary.

“God bless you, my girl,” said James, crossing himself. “May I wait here?”

“Why do you want to do that?”

“I owe it to Kreshnik. If you remember, Nik stayed here the night he ranted and raved at you.”

Mary smiled and headed for Kreshnik’s room where she would treat the cut on his forehead. He had regained consciousness but kept his eyes closed. Then, he slowly opened them, and in the light, he could make out the outline of Mary’s face. When he saw her, he wanted to raise his head. He couldn’t believe where and with whom he found himself. He almost cried out, but Mary put her hand on his mouth, smiled, and motioned for him to be quiet.

He closed his eyes again as if he were between reality and fantasy. When Mary squeezed his hand, he felt the same sensations he had felt that night in his bedroom.

Mary stayed with Kreshnik and treated his wound just as she had done that afternoon on a park bench in Del Mar Beach. He felt her hands on his forehead. Her chest jerked under her white apron, and he felt her breath. He could not believe such a miracle had happened. When she bent over him, and her lips touched his, he knew that kiss was the best thing that had ever happened to him. It was a sign their love was blooming like spring flowers, freed from the weight of winter’s snow. Kreshnik and Mary started to cry, and their tears mingled on their cheeks which burned after their silent kisses just like they had that night in Kreshnik’s bedroom. Words were superfluous.

They did not realize that James had gotten up from where he had been sitting, tiptoed into Kreshnik’s room, slowly opened the door, and had seen Mary, bathed in tears, kissing and caressing him. That could only happen to a woman in love. Later, James had slowly closed the door and hurried back to his seat.

Mary quickly regained her composure, dried hers and Kreshnik’s tears, and continued to treat Kreshnik’s wound. She felt sad when she saw it was almost eleven and realized another nurse would soon replace her. She did not want to leave Kreshnik. She wanted the remaining two minutes to be two hours, two years, two centuries. As fate would have it, Mary’s colleague was late. She hoped that something had happened to her on the way to the hospital. She hoped she had gotten sick and wouldn’t be able to come to work. That way, she could stay with Kreshnik.

Several minutes passed, and fortunately the other nurse did not come. But then, the unthinkable happened. The door opened, and Charlie rushed in.

Mary couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw him. His hair was disheveled and fell around his glasses.

“Mary, did you forget I was picking you up?” he asked. “It’s twenty after eleven!”

Yes, Mary had forgotten. In those past few moments, Charlie, her future husband, had not existed. Mary did not want him there now. She was surprised he had managed to get in and come to Kreshnik’s room. Apparently, as in the past when Mary was delayed, he had been allowed to do so.

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” Mary barely managed to say, trying to appear as calm as possible. “But my colleague, who is supposed to replace me, has not arrived yet.”

“That’s all right,” said Charlie.

But when he saw Kreshnik lying in the bed, he turned pale.

“Isn’t this the drunkard who caused the scene at the restaurant? Isn’t this Kreshnik?” he asked, almost spitefully.

Mary nodded and motioned for him not to raise his voice. But Charlie said, harshly, “And you’re treating him?”

“Please, Darling. I’m treating an accident victim. I’m doing my job. I am required to treat everyone who comes to the hospital. Please understand,” she pleaded.

“Couldn’t somebody else treat him?”

She was about to reply when, fortunately, her replacement arrived. She apologized for her lateness.

Mary felt a deep pain in her heart as she left the room and couldn’t even look at Kreshnik. She left her robe in the nurses room, and after she grabbed her bag, she and Charlie headed out. After they passed James in the hall, he remained in shock.

Mary and Charlie left the hospital in silence as if they both held grudges which, in fact, they did. It was Mary who broke the cold silence.

“Charlie, what was that outburst about? And right in front of Kreshnik Germeni!”

Charlie realized he had behaved badly.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But I didn’t like it that you lavished so much attention on him. I hardly recognized him. He looks so different.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Charlie, whether I like it or not, I’m obligated to treat everyone who comes to the hospital, even my enemy. Why do you keep bringing up something that happened several months ago?”

Charlie did not answer immediately. Finally, he said, “It bothers me that you jumped to his defense when Ralph was ready to cuff him.”

“I told you then and I’m telling you now, maybe you’re jealous.”

Even Charlie didn’t know why he felt the way he did when he saw Mary look at Kreshnik with such tenderness as he lay in the bed. He had to admit Kreshnik looked much better with his short hair and trimmed beard. Still, Charlie had every right to be jealous while Mary had no right to speak of jealousy. Indeed, jealousy paled in comparison to betrayal. Mary had betrayed Charlie when she had bent over Kreshnik and gently kissed him on the lips. Someone might say it was just a kiss and nothing more. But Mary had also shed tears. Had she done so out of mere compassion? A few weeks earlier, she had left Kreshnik a “good-bye once and for all” note after she had given her body to him. How often would she utter that cursed phrase, “once and for all”, which, like an alter ego, wrestled with the word “never.”

The next morning, Mary was about to get out of bed when her cell phone rang. It was Charlie. After he greeted her, he said, “Sweetheart, I’m sorry about last night.”

“Don’t worry about it, Darling.”

“Also, I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much as I should be. I will finish this study in two or three weeks. Then we will get married and go to Honolulu. If that doesn’t meet with your approval, we’ll go where you want to.”

Mary heard the pleading in his voice.

“No, Charlie. If you don’t like Honolulu, we’ll go where you wish.”

“Thank you. Shall I pick you up tonight at the hospital?”

“No, Friday would be better.”

“You’re right. We’ll sleep late on Saturday morning. We have our Sunday routine.”

He laughed.

“We’ll make as much love as we can.”

“Yes, Charlie, we will make love.”

“You seem a little upset.”

“No, Dear. I’m not upset.”

“Well, then, good-bye, Darling.”

“Bye, Dear.”

Mary hung up the phone and sighed. Although she knew Kreshnik was out of danger, she still called the trauma ward. The nurse who had taken over for her answered the phone. Mary asked her how Kreshnik was feeling. She said he had not had any problems and was now sleeping.

Although she wished otherwise, Mary could not rid her mind of Kreshnik. According to the doctor, he would not be in the hospital for more than twenty-four hours. He would likely not be there when Mary went to work at three. So she decided to go earlier. She had every right to do so since he had been her patient. She had had a difficult night after her conversation with Charlie, but once she took a shower, she felt less tired.

As she drove to the hospital, she hoped that after examining Kreshnik, the doctor would decide he needed to stay a few more days. That way, Mary could be with him.

Kreshnik was lying in bed. Although he had been out of it the previous night, with his eyes half-closed, he had heard Mary’s and Charlie’s conversation. He had heard Charlie’s degrading words, “the drunkard who caused that scene in front of the restaurant”. He could imagine how much Charlie hated him. His thoughts mirrored Mary’s. If Charlie knew his fiancee had not only kissed Kreshnik a few minutes earlier but had also slept with him a few weeks ago?

Kreshnik had cursed himself and James for the senseless quarrel which had landed him in the hospital and brought him face to face with Mary again. That should not have happened. In any case, Mary’s kiss told Kreshnik how much she loved him, but Kreshnik knew she did not and should not belong to him.

In a few hours, she would be coming to work. Therefore, Kreshnik got out of bed. He felt a little dizzy, but only for a few minutes. He opened the door and looked out. The hallway was quiet. He ran to the closet and dressed quickly. It was about nine. His bandaged head would give him away. He looked out into the hallway a second time, then strolled down the hall so no one would notice him sneaking out of the hospital. At the end of the corridor, he saw a nurse talking to her friend so he turned to the right and went into a nearby bathroom. Someone occupied one of the stalls so he went into another one.

Meanwhile, Mary, overwhelmed by dark thoughts, arrived at the building where the trauma ward was located. She parked the car, got out, and looked at her watch. It was 10:10. She was not sure what to do. It was early. What would she do until 3:00 when her shift started? She screwed up her face and headed for the main door.

Meanwhile, Kreshnik had come out of the bathroom, walked down the hall, gotten on the elevator, and was headed for the ground floor. Suddenly, as he was getting off the elevator, he saw Mary coming from the opposite direction. He stole a quick glance at her, left the hospital, hailed the first taxi he saw, and gave the driver his address. When he turned his head, the hospital had disappeared from view.

Mary arrived at Kreshnik’s room. She stood still for a moment as if she regretted having gone there. Thinking Kreshnik was still sleeping, she slowly opened the door and nearly froze when she saw the empty bed. She went out into the hall and ran into the doctor with thick eyebrows who worked the morning shift. He seemed stressed.

“Doctor, what happened to that patient with the head wound?” she asked. “He was here last night when I left.”

“He acted crazy!” the doctor fumed. “He fled like a thief a few minutes ago. We looked for him everywhere, in the bathroom, the warehouse, the janitors room. Our only option now is to look for him in the nooks and crannies.”

“But why did he leave?” asked Mary, her eyes wide. “He should have waited until you had examined him to be sure he had recovered.”

“He has to sign a release form. He can’t just leave.”

The doctor shook his head, angrily.

“By the way, why did you come here so early?” he asked. “Are you covering for someone?”

“No. I came early because I thought I had forgotten something important I needed today,” Mary lied. “But now I remembered I left it at a friend’s house.”

The doctor was silent for a moment. Then, as if he had remembered something, he raised his thick eyebrows and fixed his gaze on Mary.

“Wait a minute! That crazy man is the son of the old man I saw leaving the hospital early this morning. It seems he was here a few months ago.”

“That’s right.”

“I think you know him well, Mary. I remember him talking to you when he came to see his father.”

Mary nodded.

The doctor’s eyes twinkled.

“Would you do me a favor? I don’t want any trouble because of this man’s escape.”

Mary looked at him with curiosity.

“We can’t solve this problem over the phone. Could you go to his house and convince him to come back to sign a document? Then he can go to the moon for all I care.”

“I’ll go right away,” said Mary, and her heart leaped out of her chest.

“Thank you. Don’t forget to get his address from the admittance book.”

“That won’t be necessary. I brought him here last night in the ambulance.”

“Very well,” said the doctor. (Continues) 

Click here for Part-1, Part-2, Part-3, Part-4, Part-5,  Part-6, Part-7, Part-8, Part-9, Part-10, Part-11, Part-12, Part-13, Part-14, Part-15, Part-16, Part-17, Part-18, Part-19, Part-20, Part-21, Part-22, Part-23, Part-24, Part-25, Part-26, Part-27, Part-28, Part-29, Part-30, Part-31, Part-32, Part-33, Part-34, 

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About the Authors 

Carrie Hooper was born and raised in Elmira, New York. She has been blind since birth. She received a B.A. in vocal performance from Mansfield University, Mansfield, Pennsylvania.  She went on to receive an M.A. in German and an M.A. in vocal performance from the State University of New York at Buffalo. After completing her studies, she spent a year at the Royal University College of Music in Stockholm, Sweden as a Fulbright scholar. Carrie currently lives in Elmira, New York. She taught German, Italian, and Romanian at Elmira College. She has a passion for foreign languages and in addition to the languages mentioned above, she is also proficient in Swedish, Spanish, and Albanian. Music also plays an important role in Carrie’s life.  She teaches voice and piano lessons, gives vocal concerts, plays the piano and organ at a church, and sings in a community chorus. Carrie not only loves music and languages, but also enjoys poetry. She has published three books: “Piktura në fjalë” (“Word Paintings”), a bilingual collection of poetry (Albanian-English), “My Life in My Words”, and “Away from Home.” She has also translated texts from Albanian and Romanian to English.

Skifter Këllici was born in Tirana, Albania and received a diploma in history and literature from the University of Tirana. He worked as a journalist, scholar, and sportscaster on radio and television. He is the author of several novels and nonfiction books, including the children’s books, “Memories of the Old Neighborhood” and “In the Footsteps” as well as the historical novels, “Assassination in Paris”, “The Murderer with the White Hands”, and “September Disaster.” He wrote the screenplay for “In the Footsteps” which won a special prize at the International Children’s Film Festival in Giffoni, Italy in 1979. He has lived in Boston, Massachusetts since 1999.

[The book ‘Disastrous September is being reproduced in episodes with the consent of the author]