Muddy Shoes

“Ouch. My leg  ...

I suddenly mumbled. I clutched onto my fist as hard as I could. The pain is unbearable.

“Clair!! She’s awake!! Doctor! I need a Doctor!!"

I hear Donna screaming across the room into the endlessly pale hallways of the ER clinic.  She always had been the loud one between us. I guess that now it’s a good thing. I felt her freezing firm hand, and her strikingly beautiful finger nails as it stroke my forehead as she’s repeatedly telling me, “It’s going to be okay...”

“ .. I'm so confused.” I whispered under my breath. I don't think she heard me. Although rather hesitatingly, the Doctor approaches me a bit too closely. Yet, I don't have the power in me to say anything to stop him.

“Good morning” he said in an awfully pleased voice. “How are you feeling?”

I didn't really know how to answer that; I just nodded my head up and down. It kind of hurt.

 “I'm going to go over your fractured bone. We are looking for any concussion that might have occurred due to your head to head clash. The nurse will to get you something to eat and drink; meanwhile I’ll send your friend Donna back in here”  said the Doctor with a soft sound of compassion in his voice.

I just nodded my head. After he finally left, I managed to say to Donna, “Never thought the ER doctors would be so creepy and old. Aren’t they supposed to be hot?"

She was definitely not expecting that particular thought to slip out of my unfiltered mouth. She laughed a quiet laugh and all of a sudden her face was face was frozen. Not from fear, worry or surprise; she doesn't feel fear, and I've known her long enough to say that it was rather from the overwhelming feeling of knowing-but-not-saying-a-thing that must have been striking her in this very moment. Suddenly, she unfroze and says looked straight into my dark brown eyes, “You seriously need a drink“

I laughed.


“Your braid still looks good though,” she said giggling.

And I simply smiled. The pain wasn't as bad any more. I ate a smelly (and probably expired) hospital sandwich and drank a suspicious liquid they call “carrot juice” around here; it was definitely not carrot juice.

Donna sat next to my hideously dull hospital bed and said, “We won you know. “

I didn't know.

“Wow  ...” I said shocked yet proud at the same time.

After processing this critical piece information I finally said, “This game meant everything to us. I wish I was there to see the finish  ...”

She cut me off and said, “It was all thanks to you. You gave us the motivation to accomplish what we so dearly wanted, but didn't know was possible. If it wasn't for you … “

“Donna“ I cut her off; “why am I here? “

And again her face is frozen.

“Do you really not remember?“ she said in a rather sarcastic tone.

“Would you be kind enough to refresh my memory?“ I said with a hint of sass.

And she takes a deep breath and starts with “game day”.

“Illana came over at around 3PM, and about 30 minutes later you finally decided to show up. Once you walked in my room you saw we started putting our soccer uniform on. You came in fully dressed. Your cleats had mud on them; which was unusual, due to the fact you clean them obsessively before and after every practice, especially before games.
         
“I asked you about them. Your face seemed surprised. As if you didn’t know I would notice.

“'I forgot to clean them after last practice.' you answered quickly but in a rather mumbled voice.

"I knew you were lying, But I let it go. I shouldn’t have. You sat on my bed and rubbed your left knee. My mum screamed with her squeaky voice, ‘you have five minutes or you'll be late!! And I'm not waiting.

"10 minutes later, we were sharp and ready, on the field practicing on some shots, passes and goalie kicks. I saw you putting your 'oh so favorite' stinky Bengay on. Just like you always do.

 “Which frankly I hate. But even so I could feel something was off. You're always so happy and maybe even a little nervous before games. You looked upset. I ran up to you from across the field and left Ilana alone so that we could talk, I was worried. All of a sudden, Donna stopped talking and said to me, 'I mean, if the captain isn't focused; how should the rest of the team feel about this final game?'

"There’s just so much… ”

 I cut her off and said, “Wait Donna, before you continue; how could you tell?” I asked in a worried but loving voice.

She smiled.

“I’ve been your best friend for the past 7 years. We’ve been on the same team for 4 years.
It’s my job to know."

I giggled nervously.

 “As I was saying, I ran up to you. You seemed quite surprised I was there; even though we always talk before games while I braid your messy curly hair into a poorly unsuccessful fish-tail. You rubbed your left knee. We heard the whistle. The game would be starting in three minutes. We had our usual team talk where we do our usual game-plan, but you didn't say a word,
which was unusual; you always have something to say. Yet, you chose to stay quiet.

"Starting team is on the field and I look for your eyes and hope they'll find mine.
Fortunately, they do; and you nodded your head up and down. Your eyes gave me the I'm-not-leaving-this-field-without-a-win look. But you seemed in pain before the game even started. You rubbed your left knee.

She stops and says, “Did you really think I wouldn't notice?”

A crooked smile creeped onto my face as I said, “I most definitely knew you would.”

*Whistle*
Game on.

Magnusson K. "Soccer Player Sitting On Pitch Stock Photo 126364242." Getty Images. N.p., n.d. Web. 21 Jan. 2015.