Heart Stop

Wednesday, May 9, 2007

Anne Whippoorwill Pi’s birthday. Collette could not remember if she was 23 or 24 that day. She remembered Anne from the older choir days. From Collette’s recollection, she had always been very quiet, often wore large earrings (perhaps they had been in the shape of hearts), and had always seemed as though she was much older than all of the other altos.

Collette had another appointment with the cardiologist that morning – a check-up five months after visiting the last time where she had been temporarily diagnosed with sinus tachycardia. While sitting in the waiting room, she heard the receptionists chat briefly about American Idol. Downstairs, the tunes of a baby grand drifted from the lobby where a white-haired granny tickled the ivories. Collette waited for awhile, looking around the large brightly lit room, albeit windowless. It occurred to her as she sat there that the glass partition separating the office from the hall looked like a slice of prehistoric rock. It was stamped in such a way as to appear as though it were filled with trilobites and fossilized ferns, although it was likely not the intent of the artist upon its original fashioning.

Collette departed the heart hospital that morning hoping never to have the need to return. It had been a painless appointment. But visiting a cardiologist for any reason was not exactly a favorite to-do.

Meanwhile, Mom had been sitting out in the car with the little Puck. The day was already incredibly warm.

“Well, he certainly is a content little baby,” Mom said, sitting in the back seat holding him. “While you were in there a helicopter came in to land, cranes were going back and forth, construction workers were yelling across the parking lot to each other. And he just sat there. It didn’t bother him at all.”

He did not seem to be highly disturbed by noise and commotion. Had his hearing not been tested at the hospital, and had he not jumped from time to time upon the occurrence of particularly loud sounds, Collette might begin to wonder if the little man was half-deaf.

Collette spent the first part of the afternoon back at the house, reworking Rose’s next session of exams. Rose herself spent most of her day creating ancient civilizations on the computer, also having slept till ten-fifteen that morning. Apparently she mistakenly thought she was still on spring break.

In other news, Rose had been informed by her ceramics professor at the college that her prized plate which looked like cosmic galaxies, had been stolen from the art show. While being somewhat of a compliment toward her craft, it still bothered her to know that she wasn’t going to ever see it again. It had been the crème de la crème of all of her pieces.

And the house moaned again that evening. Ancient plumbing, no doubt.

Later, before OLeif returned home for the day, he and Shepherd dropped by briefly after purchasing sodas from the fuel station.

“Aw, is this Puck?” Shepherd asked. “He is pretty cute.”

So many new people the little Puck had to meet.