no sound escaped through its walls

            Many times I’ve walked up and down these strange structures.  Although definitely not stairs, that is the way they are used.  They resemble two stone towers reaching from the ground all the way up to the top of a huge brick wall that keeps the cliff from crumbling down onto the streets below.  There is a narrow opening all the way from top to bottom, splitting one side of each tower to permit people to enter and exit, and allowing sunlight light the insides. These towers have no internal framework that normal working buildings have.  There are no floors or ceilings, no rooms and no staircases or hallways.  Instead, there are piles and piles of colorful fabrics that are stacked and moved around by people whose only purpose is to do so.  Some of the piles are only one or two feet tall, while others reach all the way up to the top of the brick wall, and there are all heights in between.  Climbing these stacks of fabric is the only way that a person can get from the village to the top of the cliff.  While climbing, the workers continue to shift the piles of fabric around, forcing the travelers to change their routes.  No words are ever exchanged between the stackers and the villagers—that’s how it had to be.

            I stepped, climbed, and scrambled my way to the top of the fabric filled tower, relieved when I planted both feet on the sturdy ground above.  Looking back, it looked like I had just come from Madurodam in The Hague.  The streets of the village, lined with rustic stone and brick buildings with trees and parks sprinkled here and there, seemed to have shrunk into miniature.  Toy cars inched down the winding roads and little people went in and out of shops and cafés like ants picking up supplies to bring back to the colony.

            I followed the stone path from the cliff’s edge to the long brick building.  The stones in the path were worn down, polished and smooth from the constant foot traffic.  The landscape was a lush green.  There were few trees and some flowering bushes here and there, but the land was mostly made up of the soft grass that invites passersby to lie back and forget the day. 

            Finally, I approached my destination.  The single story building looked like something between a school and a prison.  It had few windows and no sound escaped through its walls.  It was not inviting and gave me the sense that my breath would be stolen away as soon as I passed through its large main doors.  This certainly did not seem like a place where people went for medical care.  But it was—this building was a hospital.

            Benches lined the walk leading up to its entrance.  The reception area sat just outside the main doors and was covered by a large awning.  As I walked by, I gave the receptionists a quick nod before pushing open the heavy doors.  As they thudded shut behind me, I was plunged into an eerie silence and I knew something was wrong.  Something evil was lurking inside.  I tiptoed down the abandoned hallway.  The overhead lights seemed too dim and all of the doors to the patient’s rooms were closed and I knew what evil thing was here.

            He was here.  By the quality of the silence and the slightly acrid smell in the air, I knew he was in the building.  He’s chased me through countless city streets, into empty parking garages, but he’s never caught me.  And this time, I am the one chasing him.  And I had found him.  But why here?  Why a hospital?  And why this one? 

            I spun around and ran back the way I had come in.  Bursting through the doors, I stumbled up to reception.  “I need to borrow you phone.  I have to make a call.  It’s an emergency!”  I wheezed.  A receptionist held the phone to her ear with dark red manicured nails and looked at me blankly.  Another replied, “We don’t have a phone that you can use.”  I opened my mouth to persuade her to let me use that phone when she continued, “But there’s a pay phone over there.”

            I followed her gaze down the path and saw the payphone between a bench and a tree.  Once I registered the phone’s location, I briskly turned in its direction, thrusting my hands into the depths of my pockets to locate some change.  They were empty, but I ran to the phone anyway.  I’ll call Collect, I grumbled to myself without actually saying a word. 

            As I picked up the receiver, I spotted a Quarter on the ground.  Face up.  I shoved it into the coin slot and dialed my friend’s number.  While it rang, I glanced around at the people sitting on the benches and the nurses taking their patients outside.  They all seemed to be staring at me.

            Finally, she picked up with a casual, “Hello?”  There was no time for pleasantries.  “Listen,” I hissed into the phone.  “He’s here.  I need back up.  You need to get over here as soon as possible.”  Without asking who “he” was or to where she was supposed to rush off, she agreed.  She was always able to fill in the blanks.

            I put the receiver back into its cradle and leaned against the payphone, trying to calm down while I waited for her to arrive.  I couldn’t stand still.  I peered down the walkway to see if she was on her way, but I couldn’t make her out.  She wasn’t coming soon enough.  I walked back to the building, feeling the eyes of the reception staff following me.  “Humph.  I wonder what’s wrong with her?”  Someone whispered loud enough for me to hear.  Whatever.  I’m about to save everyone in this place.

            I crept down the hallway again, lights still dim and doors still closed.  I continued my sweep of the hospital.  Deliberately walking down every hallway, I looked for something out of place.  It seemed completely deserted inside. There weren’t even any gurneys or food trays in the hallways.  Where is everyone?  Hopefully safely behind the closed doors.  It was much safer for everyone if they were, but I felt completely exposed and alone.  But I was determined and I knew I could do this.

            I came upon a door that led into a ward with heightened security.  The patients in this wing were at risk for wandering off or running away.  I realized there were actually two sets of doors to pass through before entering the ward and the second required a security pass.  I’ll swipe one from a nurse if I need a card.  I looked through the window of the door and was surprised to see a man in a wheelchair, his back to me.  That’s the first person I’ve seen inside here today.  I hesitated at the door, looking around to see if my friend had arrived yet.  No one was coming. 

            I looked back through the window as the man began to turn around.  When I saw his face, I took a sharp breath.  It took every ounce of courage to not take a step back.  I couldn’t let him see my fear.  His eyes locked on mine and a grotesque smile played at his lips, grossly distorting his face.  He was waiting for me.