Mid-Life Angst ...Part 3 ...A Different Kind of Quest
― anaïs nin
I was hit by a car and the impact knocked me right out of my body.
The shock of seeing myself lying on the pavement caused me to black out.
When I eventually came to, I was lying on a stretcher bed in the emergency ward of Toronto General Hospital.
A young dark haired doctor is smiling down at me.
“Well, Mr. Bloom, you certainly had us concerned for a while there—you took a nasty blow to your head. You have a mild concussion, but other than that, just minor scrapes and bruises.”
I’m dazed. “What happened?” I rasp.
He chuckles good-naturedly. “It seems you suddenly darted out onto rain-slicked road—not a wise decision.”
I nod mutely, still trying to make sense of what occurred.
‘We’d like to keep you overnight as a precaution. Is there somebody we can contact—a family member or friend?”
“Well, I was on my way to meet an old friend actually—Jack Shepherd.”
“Oh yes, we found his business card in your wallet. Would you like us to give Father Shepherd a call and inform him?”
“Yes, please,” I murmur, suddenly feeling drowsy.
The doctor’s eyes soften, “Tired, huh? We gave you a sedative—you’ll probably sleep a few hours—and your friend can visit you this evening.”
I nod and slip into a deep sleep.
When I open my eyes the afternoon light is gone and the hospital window is black and filled with twinkling city lights.
“Welcome back, Mr. Bloom,” a pleasant, older nurse smiles. “You have a visitor, and if you’re feeling up to it, I’ll bring you a supper tray.”
“Thank you,” I manage to smile back weakly.
“You look none the worse for wear,” Jack laughs as he enters the room. Aside from the black suit and Roman collar, I’d be looking at the same old college roommate—the one who was convinced I’d be the priest, and he’d be the happily married broker on Bay Street.
I shake my head in wonderment. “You know, Pal, I still can’t get over the shock of seeing you in priest’s garb.”
“Strange how life works—but it was always you who were the mystic, Stephen.”
“Hardly,” I snort derisively.
“Hey, back then you were the one having visions—seeing a girl in a white dress and talking to Jesus on the cross above the main altar.”
I wince as he reminds me—that hasn’t happened in a long time.
“What happened today, Stephen—off on one of your epic quests and sidelined by a Siren?”
“Sounds about right,” I snicker cynically. “Actually, I did spot this amazing girl and was crossing the street to meet her, but unfortunately ended up denting a fender.”
It’s his turn to shake his head in wonderment. “You really are hard-headed—the doctor told me you suffered a mild concussion. He was worried about you, but I reassured him I’d pick you up tomorrow and drive you home.”
My throat constricts and tears well up in my eyes. “You don’t have to do that, Jack.”
He squeezes my shoulder. “It’s all good. I figure I owe you—you’re the reason I wear my collar backwards. I always envied you and wanted what you have.”
“Don’t you mean what I had?”
He looks at me compassionately. “You still have it, Stephen—that spiritual detachment.”
“Don’t I know it,” I quip, “I’m still celibate. But I’d settle for that girl in the white dress right about now.”
He chuckles softly. “You have her—she’s your soul.”
“Yeah, well, what about the girl I was after today—the one with the honey-coloured hair and big blue eyes?”
“You’ll find her.”
“How? I don’t even know her name.”
His eyes go wide in disbelief. “I don’t get you! Don’t you know you can’t lose her? She’s your soul mate.”
“My soul mate, huh?” I parrot skeptically.
He pats my shoulder. “Get some sleep, Pal—I’ll be here tomorrow to drive you home.”
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