“You look better,” said the nurse, wearing a fake smile.
She looked familiar. She waited to set the tray down while she gauged my reaction.
“If I loosen your restraints, are you going to try to get away?”
I shook my head.
“That’s right,” she said, “You don’t talk.”
She swung a hospital table from the side of the bed into position and deposited the tray. My lunch consisted of a tuna sandwich on white bread, a small bunch of bleached-looking grapes, and a mini cup of butterscotch pudding. It looked like plastic, but I was hungry. I’d missed turkey dinner and apparently breakfast.
The nurse released the velcro holding my right arm. She watched me with an intent gaze as I picked up the sandwich and took a bite. The bread was dry, but otherwise, it was okay. I wanted to make a positive impression, so I did nothing alarming and made no sudden movements. She released my other wrist and poured me water in a plastic cup.
At the end of the meal, she handed me a list of patient regulations and a schedule, which she gave me time to read. I’d missed group therapy this morning, which was a relief, though it looked like I’d have to attend tomorrow and the next day. I didn’t know what I’d get out of it since I didn’t talk.
“Do you have questions?”
I pointed to my inner elbow, where it hurt.
“Standard procedure. We draw blood from everyone when they’re admitted. To make sure you have nothing you shouldn’t in your bloodstream.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Your sister mentioned she’d sedated you while you waited for the ambulance, so we know that wasn’t your choice,” she said. “You were clean. No drugs or alcohol.”
Sedated wasn’t quite accurate. I mimed using my phone, but she shook her head.
“No cell phones and no outside contact for seventy-two hours. If you stay longer than that, there is a supervised area for short phone calls from a landline. No visitors for the same time. After that, there’s a visitors’ room and specified hours.”
I tapped the top of my wrist and shrugged, hoping she understood my question.
“You’ve been here about eighteen hours, though you were asleep for most of it. They’ve assigned a doctor to your case who will speak with you the day after tomorrow. If you stay longer, you will speak with them at least once a week. I advise you to tell the doctor the truth, otherwise they won’t be able to help you.”
I rolled my fingers, as though to say, “After that….”
“If you convince the doctor that you aren’t dangerous to yourself, or to others, they may write a favorable report and release you.”
Her tone and her eyes showed she didn’t think I would leave in the minimum time. She may have spoken with Meghan and heard my claim about time travel. I didn’t like her attitude, but I appreciated her information.
“I have to take your vitals. We missed that this morning when you were sleeping.”
Sleeping? Ha! More like drugged. They could call it what they wanted. I cooperated while she took my temperature and blood pressure, making note that they were normal. When she finished, she passed me a pile of folded clothes. To my surprise, they were ordinary clothes, not a hospital gown or scrubs. She added a white towel and a toiletries bag. The clothing was Meghan’s, not mine. Everything I had was in the rental car or at Christopher’s. Eric had ruined the rest.
“You can freshen up in there.” She pointed to a door on the left.
My legs wobbled when I first got out of bed, but I regained my strength after a few steps. The bathroom was spartan and smelled like bleach. It contained only a sink, a tube-like shower stall, and a toilet. Once clean, I became marginally more optimistic. I needed to maintain appearances and look together. The biggest strike against me was my inability to speak. Well, that and claiming to be from the future.
The clothing was a reasonable fit, though loose, as Meghan had a fuller figure than I did. I’d always been athletic and slim. I kept my bra and rinsed my underwear so I wouldn’t have to wear hers tomorrow. As I walked back to my room, I hitched up the pants. My sneakers, which I found tucked under the bottom of my bed, were also loose, as they had removed my laces. I hadn’t been given a belt.
With my phone confiscated, I had no easy way to communicate. I hoped I could make myself understood by the doctor on Wednesday. I didn’t want to stay here past the seventy-two-hour hold, though I had little hope for release.
Had Christopher been formally charged? If they needed me to press charges, I wouldn’t. The police had read him his rights, but they hadn’t searched the vehicle and they hadn’t stated specific charges. They might have taken him as a favor to Andrew. It had been Meghan who’d told me what the police had found at the Museum in Christopher’s office. Eric hadn’t pressed charges as part of his act to look like a nice guy. Eric must have lifted prints from Christopher’s office when he’d set him up, then transferred them to his place.
I was pretty sure they could also hold Christopher up to seventy-two hours without formal charges. I hoped he knew an excellent lawyer.
The nurse returned after I stacked the pillows behind me so I could sit upright on top of the straightened covers. It was weird not to have my phone or laptop. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.
“Would you like to join the others and watch TV?”
