The old man lay on the bed. His face was noticeably gray and more thinner than the last time I saw him. I sat on the white cold hospital chair and watched him sleep.
The chest rose slowly and little. A nurse came in shuffling and rolled in a squeaky cart.
“You have ten more minutes, dear. I have to check on patients and wake them up from time to time.” She bent over the bed, checking the pulse and then shook the shoulder little.
“You have to wake up, sir, wake up.”
The old man opened his eyes.
“Good afternoon, sir.” I quickly stood up. It was much easier to talk to someone not sleeping.
“I am so sorry for not coming last Sunday. I was not…”
“He can’t talk now, dear.” The nurse reminded me. “You can maybe just tell him something. Talk as if he can reply. But don’t ask questions.” She fumbled under the bed.
I did not want to talk. It was so strange. What could I say? That is is a great weather and mommy gave me a chocolate bar. No way.
“Can I play, something, um, soft?” I asked. “There is a grand piano in the hall near the room.”
“I will ask the head nurse.” She promised and shuffling out of the room, rolled out the cart.