Doing Time

By Sue Boggs

"I’m fine. Let me go!"

Chip heard the voice, weak but insistent, as soon as he opened the sickbay door.

A second voice, louder and just as insistent, answered, "No, Captain, you are not fine and you are staying put. You may refuse to admit it but that doesn’t change the fact that you are in no shape to be walking across the room, let alone wandering around the boat. And just to be sure you don’t get any more ideas about escaping while my back is turned, I’m giving you some magic juice to help keep you quiet." As the doctor said this he injected the patient with a sedative.

Chip didn’t want to add to the situation so he waited by the door until he heard the patient’s continued protests cease. "How’s he doing, Jamie?" Chip asked, walking over to the bunk.

Doctor Will Jamieson finished checking the vital signs on his now sleeping patient and turned to Chip Morton, Executive Officer of the submarine Seaview. "He’s out of the woods. Once again he got lucky. One of these days he may wait too long for me to be of any help," the doctor replied.

Chip took a chair beside the bed of the patient in question, his commanding officer, Lee Crane. Morton turned to the doctor, "Why does he avoid getting medical treatment, Doc? He’s smart enough to know he’s putting his life in danger when he does that."

"I don’t know, Chip," Jamieson answered with a sigh. "You’re right that he’s intelligent enough to know the consequences. I’ve talked about it with a colleague and he and I agree it’s probably an unconscious reaction, based on something that he may not even remember."

The doctor moved away from the patient area and Chip settled back to keep watch over his sleeping friend while pondering the doctor’s words.

***

Four-year-old Lee sat on the front seat of the family car next to his father. He was chattering away, telling his dad all the fun things he’d do when he got big and would sail a boat far away. The two had just spent the afternoon at the harbor, looking at boats on display and watching sailboats race. Lee knew that’s what he wanted to do when he grew up.

"I’m sure you’ll be a great sailor, son," his father said with a smile, glancing over at him.

Lee saw his smile change to a look of alarm and heard him yell, "No." His father’s arm went up in front of Lee as if to hold him back and Lee heard a terrible, loud noise, then everything went black.

Lee became aware of an unpleasant smell. It smelled kind of like some of the stuff Mommy used to clean the bathroom. He didn’t like it. He realized he was lying in a bed but it didn’t feel like his bed. He also realized he didn’t feel good. His head hurt and so did most of the rest of him. He suddenly remembered being in the car and the loud noise.

"Daddy?" he cried, opening his eyes finally.

"You’re father is dead," he heard a man say. "You need to be quiet now."

A tall man in a white coat came into view. Lee didn’t know who he was and was scared. Dr. Edelburg picked up Lee’s wrist to take his pulse. He didn’t regret his blunt comments to the child. He didn’t believe in molly-coddling anyone, even children. They should be told the truth.

"I want my Mommy," Lee said with a trembling voice.

"She can’t come and see you yet. Visiting hours aren’t until this afternoon. Just lay there quietly."

Lee began to cry as Doctor Edelburg made a few notations on the child’s chart. The boy had a concussion and a large gash on his side that had taken many stitches to close, as well as various bruises and contusions consistent with an automobile crash. As Lee’s wails grew Edelburg thought how glad he would be when he was off this pediatric rotation. He hooked the chart to the foot of the bed and went to get a nurse to deal with the child.

A lady also dressed in white came in after the man left. "There, there. No need to cry. We’ll take good care of you. Just lie there and be a good boy like the doctor told you."

"I want my Mommy," Lee repeated between sniffles.

"She’ll be here this afternoon. Why don’t you try and take a nap until then." She tucked the covers in around him, patted him on the head and left. Lee lay there crying quietly. That doctor was mean. He wouldn’t let Mommy or Daddy see him. Lee knew they wanted to. Wait till they heard what the mean doctor did. He’d be in trouble.

Daddy wasn’t dead. Lee wasn’t exactly sure what that meant but he’d heard the word before and he knew it was bad. Daddy wasn’t bad. Lee finally fell asleep, still frightened and longing to see his parents.

The next thing Lee knew he heard a voice saying, "Lee, honey, wake up."

"Mommy!" Lee cried, overjoyed to see her. He reached up his arms for a hug, even though that hurt.

"Oh, Lee, I love you," Mrs. Crane said, fighting back her tears as she gathered him into her arms.

"You weren’t here. Neither was Daddy. I was scared," Lee said with his head against her chest. He started to cry again.

Ruffling his hair, Mrs. Crane said, "I know honey. But the doctors and nurses are here and I’m here now."

"Where’s Daddy? That mean doctor said he was dead. What’s that mean?" he asked, looking up at her.

Mrs. Crane wasn’t expecting that question and was suddenly overwhelmed. She’d hoped she could spare the boy that truth for a little while longer. Taking a deep breath she pulled her son away from her and looked into his innocent, trusting eyes. She said the first thing that came to mind, which she hoped would be a comfort to him. "Daddy’s gone to see Jesus, son. He’s very happy there."

"Oh," was all Lee said. He wasn’t sure why Daddy would go on a trip without saying goodbye. Lee knew from Sunday School that Jesus lived far away and he hoped his father would come back soon. Lee wanted to ask Mommy more questions but he could tell she was upset so he didn’t. He just snuggled back against her. She rocked him back and forth, sending a thankful prayer to heaven that at least his life was spared. All too quickly visiting hour was up and the nurses came around to tell the parents on the ward they had only five more minutes.

"Lee, I have to go now." Mrs. Crane said.

"No!" Lee cried, tears coming to his eyes once again. "I want to go with you."

"I’m afraid you can’t yet honey. You be good for the nurses," Mommy said. "I’ll be back to see you tomorrow."

"No!" Lee kept crying, but Mrs. Crane laid him back against his pillow, kissed him on the forehead and forced herself to leave, mindful of the stern look of the matron urging the parents out with her hands. Lee rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, ignoring the nurse who came in to give him dinner.

Days went by. Everyday it was the same. One of the nurses would wake him up and make him eat breakfast even if he wasn’t hungry, then tell him to lie there quietly and not make trouble. Then no one would come in until lunch when a nurse would come in and repeat the same procedure. After lunch the children were supposed to sleep for a few hours. Then Mommy would come for a short time. That time went by too quickly. Mommy had to leave when it was time for dinner. He’d rather have Mommy there than dinner. Then the nurses gave them baths and turned the lights out.

There were several other beds in the large room and as he began to feel better Lee started to interact with the other children in those beds. At first they just talked but he soon felt well enough to get out of bed and play. If they got too loud the nurse would come in and yell at them.

Though Lee didn’t cry much anymore he didn’t like it here. The mean, scary doctor would come in once a day and poke him on his side where it hurt. Sometimes he’d even poke him with a needle. Lee wanted to go home. He wished his father were there. He’d make the mean doctor let him go home.

Mrs. Crane entered her son’s room. It had been a long two weeks but she was finally taking Lee home today. It had been so hard to be separated from him but hospital rules only allowed parents to visit an hour each day.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked Lee who was sitting with his feet over the side of the bed.

"Yeah," Lee said somewhat listlessly.

"Is something wrong? Do you feel alright?"

"My tummy feels a little funny."

"Funny? How?"

Shrugging, Lee said, "I don’t know. It hurts a little."

"Let me check. Hmm, you also feel a little warm. Let me call the doctor."

The doctor came and examined him. He said big words like secondary ‘fection that Lee didn’t understand. But the result was they made him get back in bed and wouldn’t let him go home.

"But I’m supposed to go home today," he wailed.

"I know sweetheart, but when the doctor examined your tummy when you said it hurt they found you still weren’t well. You’ll have to stay here a few more days."

"But you could take care of me at home. You’ve done it before when I was sick."

"This is different, honey," she tried to explain. The pain of losing her beloved husband was still so fresh she wanted nothing more than to take this living link to him home and take care of him. But she knew it was best for Lee to stay where the doctors could look after him.

"You don’t love me anymore," he sniffled.

"Oh, sweetie, yes I do. I love you more than anything in the world. But I want you to get well and you can do that best here."

"No, I can’t."

"Yes, you can, honey. I know you don’t understand that yet but you will some day. Let me sing you a song."

As she started to hum a favorite song, Lee knew she was wrong. He understood. He understood that if he hadn’t said anything about his stomachache he’d be home right now. He shouldn’t have told them he didn’t feel good.

***

Lee Crane awoke gradually. As he became aware of that unique smell that was Sickbay he sighed.

"You awake, Lee?" he heard a familiar voice say.

"That depends. Are you here to break me out?" Lee said, slowly opening his eyes.

Chip smiled at his friend’s choice of words. "Sorry, buddy. You did the crime, you’ll have to do the time."

"I didn’t commit a crime. I just…"

"Neglected to tell anyone you’d been slammed around when that seaquake caught you in the storage locker," Chip interrupted. "You impacted with those crate edges so hard it caused internal bleeding. Which of course no one knew about until you passed out in the control room. In Doc’s book, that’s a crime."

Chip continued in a friendly but exasperated tone, "Then you tried to escape from sickbay. Why do you bedevil Doc so? You know you need to heal."

"I don’t know. I just know I hate being cooped up with doctors hovering over me." Lee replied. He shifted on the bunk, trying to get more comfortable but gave up in frustration.

Chip gave him a sympathetic look as he got up. "Well, try to be good. Maybe Jamie won’t give you extra time for the escape attempt and you’ll get paroled early." He leaned over the rack and patted Lee on the shoulder then straightened to leave. Despite himself, Lee had pulled through again. Chip didn’t need to hover. "If not, I’ll be back on visiting day."

Lee’s groan mingled with Chip’s laughter as he left the room.

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