The furious sketching of Camilla’s pencil echoed through the hospital room. She leaned in closer to the sketch pad she had propped on her knees to get in the details she wanted. After a few more flicks of her wrist she flipped the sketchbook over to show her grandpa.
“Ta-da!” she exclaimed. On the sketchbook page was a picture of her grandpa riding a wheelchair souped up with rocket launchers. He gave a thumbs up as he glided past stars and moons. Camilla’s grandpa smiled at the drawing.
He looked up from his hospital bed to get a closer look.
“Well, I could definitely see myself using those rocket launchers,” her grandpa started. “But I’m not sure if I’d paint those flames on the side. I’m more of a lightning bolt guy myself.”
Camilla giggled as she went back to adding details to the picture.
“It’s nice to see you drawing again,” her grandpa added softly.
She didn’t deny it. A few days ago she had reached into the cardboard box and pulled out her long forgotten, bejeweled sketchbook. She had brought it with her everyday to the hospital. Settling right next to her grandpa, she would sit and draw pictures for him, either until her mother came to pick her up, or until he dozed off. The walls and table next to him had been decorated with an assortment of sketches and cards she had made.
“Yeah,” she replied, “It’s nice to have a distraction.”
She flipped the page from her flying wheelchair to a previous drawing .
“What’s that your working on?”
“Uh,” she stammered. “Not sure.”
On the page were the light etchings of a city. Tall, cramped stone buildings stood next to cozy little houses. Decorative street lamps accented each corner. High rise sky trolleries flew on lines in the air. Down below, small boats floated down the river that ran past the cobblestone streets. Camilla had sketched the city from many angles, drawing houses here and alleys there.
“I started off trying redraw some of the stuff from your books, but it just turned into this.”
“No, that’s definitely not one of my cities,” her grandpa explained, looking at the drawing. “But it’s still really good! You’re gonna put me out of business if you keep drawing like that!”
“Don’t worry! When you get out of the hospital I’ll help you draw up some new ideas. I’ll even help you paint those lightning bolts on your wheelchair!”
Her grandpa went silent. The light and laughter quickly flew out of his face.
“Uh… Cammy,” he started.
“Like those pages about the hot air balloon,” Camilla gestured to her backpack sitting in a chair. The large picture book was sticking out of it’s opening. “You could write a whole ‘nother book on just that alone.”
Camilla’s grandpa leaned up a little further to get closer. The IV in his arm and the oxygen tube in his nose jostled as he shifted.
“Cammy, I… I’m not sure if…”
Camilla continued to sketch, not really paying attention to what her grandpa was trying to say.
“Look, sweetie. It’s been two weeks now and I haven’t really been feeling better.”
“Mm-hm,” Camilla nodded. The rain from outside tapped against the hospital room’s windows. She fixed her gaze to the sketchpad as she continued to draw.
“I’m… old, ya know.”
“Mm-hm.”
“I have had an insanely good life. I have no regrets about the way I lived.”
“Mm-hm.”
“And I love you and Emmy so very much.”
“... mm-hm.”
“But the truth is … it’s been getting harder to walk…and soon it’ll get hard to breathe.”
Camilla didn’t mm-hm this time. She stopped moving her pencil all together. She simply stared down, with no response.
“I just think we should talk about the fact that I-”
Camilla slapped the spiral sketchbook closed. She stood up quite promptly, slightly knocking the chair back with her force.
“I should get going… before the rain picks up.”
Her grandpa sighed as he watched her make for her hoodie and backpack.
“So anyway, I’ll see if I can get mom to drop me off tomorrow. Worse case scenario I’ll just walk again.”
“Yeah,” he sighed again. “I’ll … see you.”
Camilla didn’t look her grandpa in the eye as she moved around the room collecting her things. She reached under one of the chairs she had sat on and pulled out a pair of pink skates. She flung them over her shoulders and made a beeline for the door.
“Oh Cammy!” her grandpa called out.
Camilla peeked her head back into room.
“You know how your mother feels about you wearing your skates.”
A look of guilt washed over Camilla’s face.
“I’ll only ride them halfway.”
And with that Camilla ducked out of the doorway, leaving her grandpa alone with a conversation that was yet to be had.
The neighborhood was soggy and cold. Camilla stepped around the front of the house and through the backyard. The glowing light above the back door welcomed her as she walked into the kitchen. The chill of the rainy day was instantly dissipated as she walked into the warm house. Camilla could see dinner bubbling over the stove as her mother stood in front of it. She gave Camilla a small welcome without turning her back.
“Camilla,” asked the older woman. “Have you been riding your skates again?
Camilla’s muddy skates hung over her shoulder, incriminating her.
“You know how I feel about your riding those things.”
Camilla froze, looking for explanations. “Well, yeah. But I only rode them halfway, so I could get out of the rain faster. And I only rode on the sidewalk. And I didn’t even ride that fast, and-
“Okay, okay. I just hope you didn’t try to cut under any bridges. There’s been a lot of flood warnings today.”
Camilla gladly took her mother’s concession. She dropped her skates and backpack by the door, not without taking out her sketchbook though. She propped herself on the kitchen table and got right back to drawing.
“So, how’s dad looking today?”
“Fine.”
Camilla lied.
She put herself completely into what she was sketching. The corners and alleys and houses of the strange world she’d been seeing came more and more alive as her pencil moved. But she didn’t just draw the city. She found herself drawing strange objects like boats and lasers. She even ended up sketching a strange orb-like invention. It was a little sphere with etchings on the sides of it. Camilla looked at that one for a while. Even though she’d drawn it she couldn’t make heads or tails of what it was supposed to be.
“Come on, Cammy”, her mother interrupted her train of thought. “You can draw later. Go get cleaned up for dinner.”
Camilla rolled her eyes, but complied with her mother’s demands. She ran to the stairs and made her way to her room quite quickly.
Her bedroom seemed normal. Everything was as it had usually been. A few drawings she had ripped from her sketchbook hung above her desk. Camilla wouldn’t have thought anything strange had happened had she not looked down near her bed. Peeking out from under her bed, slightly covered by her bed skirt, was the cardboard box.
Camilla stared. She had grabbed her sketchbook out of it rather quickly this morning. It was completely possible that she had forgotten to slide it back under the bed, wasn’t it? She picked up the box and tossed off its top.
Golden light reflected out of the box into Camilla’s eyes. Inside the container, sitting atop her other possessions, was a decorative envelope with golden accents. She reached inside and pulled it out. Upon further examination, she found out that it was in fact not a real envelope, but a thin piece of paper shaped like one. A flat, triangle line stood in place of where a flap would be. She turned it over to see only two words, written in golden cursive; “Thank You.”
Was it from a party? Or a birthday? Camilla thought. Those were the only reasons she could think of for having this. It was quite beautiful. Maybe she had collected it on the grounds of being so pretty. It looked so pristine and new. Much newer than anything else in the box. She slipped it in her pocket and resolved to think more on it later.
She looked back down into the box. Her eyes shrunk. Her gaze fixated on the empty spot. She thrust her hand into the box and started shifted things around to make sure. When she didn’t see it, her fears were confirmed.
Someone had taken her teddy bear.
Comments (0)
See all