Breaking the Ice - Chapter 7

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic

Don't forget to catch up and read the other chapters!

Submitted: April 10, 2018

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Submitted: April 10, 2018



When consciousness first came to her, she kept her eyes closed.

I'm in bed.

I'm going to wake up, start a pot for dad, then go out on the porch.

She could already see him on the deck. She'd venture out, maybe offer him a mug with hers in hand. He'd make a passing remark about how he preferred tea, but would drink it regardless. In the later days of his life, he'd cough in between sips, assuring his daughter he'd taken his medication.

Their move to Lavender was for the air, it was easier on the lungs.

In truth, he went off the meds months before he passed.

Shale never came by.

Not until my court date.

Her father did what was right, stepping down at the gym. It made more time for the clinic and her brother was eager and willing to take over.

Shale was never interested in helping at the clinic. All the years their old man spent helping the miners in Mt. Moon never appealed either.

You got what you wanted.

“Finally, some good news,” The nurse, a woman with two extra chins and a ghosting mustache, appeared at Breccia's bedside. She turned to her Chansey as it sat at the desk, muttering something intelligible. “Your fever broke last night, I was hoping you'd come around at some point today.” The room Breccia awoke in was sterile, completely white with very few decorative fixings. (Save for an electronic Luxio clock flashing zeros on the wall and the marigold tint of her bedsheets).

“Where am....” She sat up too quickly and swallowed her sentence when the world spun around her.

“The infirmary dear, you've been out for a while, try not to strain yourself.” Letting her head soak into the pillow, Breccia took a sharp breath in. As she did so, an exasperated cough escaped. It was almost as if her lungs were made of delicate paper. A single inhale was enough to floor her. “And to think you were worse off when they dragged you in here.”

“They....” It all came back to her now: the accident, the miserable trek through the cave. “M-Moris, Nessa, where are they?”

He's already back on duty,” The nurse plucked a pin from her bun, nibbling on the end before scribbling on her clipboard. “Quite lucky in the grand scheme of things. Only a concussion and a few bruised ribs.”


“I'm not at liberty to say,” Adjusting the saline bag attached to Breccia's IV tree, the nurse shrugged. “I only deal with minor bumps and scrapes. You're the most excitement I've had all year.” Tugging a lever on the side of her bed, she helped prop her patient into a sitting position. “You aren't at one hundred percent yet. We'll keep you over night. You can report to Riker tomorrow.”

“So...on a scale of one to ten, how bad was I?”

The nurse paused for thought.

“Well, coughing up blood, hundred and three temperature. I practically had to peal you out of your clothes...”

“Eight and a half?” Upon realizing this complete stranger had seen her in the nude, Breccia felt a heat break out across her face. “Hold on, you....stripped me?”

“Honey, it was nothing, really. I've seen shit that'll turn a Jynx white,” The pudgy woman chuckled. “We'll say nine and call it square.” Any other questions asked about the issue near Verandi were shrugged at. Clearly this woman wasn't permitted to answer anything beyond basic health questions.

It would be a few hours later before the infirmary received any information pertaining to Caleb, Lars or the others.

Ms. Morre, on her way home with a full casserole dish in hand, stopped in per Riker's request. Setting the plastic Tupperware container on the desk, the Nurse had little time to thank her. As soon as the container hit the table top, the Nurse's Chansey ripped into it with the fury of a starved child.

“Well, I'd thank you for the dinner. But, it looks like I'm having Ramen again tonight.”

Fastening the last two buttons on her red fur coat, Ms. Morre brushed her finger tips through the loose gray strands that fell from her ponytail.

“I made more, but the boy refused to eat it. I'll wait until tomorrow to rip into him, today's been a stressful one,” She sighed. “With the funeral and all.” Breccia heard this and turned her head to the woman. Deep down, she felt her heart flutter with confirmation that all was not right.


Ms. Morre was able to make out the faint uttering and frowned, the lines in her forehead deepening as she did so.

“Best lab worker we had.”

Cupping her face in her hands, the patient tried to calm herself with deep breaths. This was more than just losing an acquaintance, Nessa and Caleb were long time friends. Back in Pewter city, when her old man was alive and healthy, Caleb was an apprentice of his gym. She and Nessa spent their days in the grass lands near Mt. Moon. She had no friends in Saffron where her mother lived, so when the weekends or holidays came around, she was almost frantic to get back.

The Carter's homelife was about as functional as she was currently sick. Their father was a pathetic drunk and their mother made Breccia's look stable by comparison.

Even after Caleb was caught breaking into the museum and was banned from the gym because of it, her father kept a close connection with both of them.

Then Breccia's mom took off for Alola with her in tow. By the time the courts dragged her back, her friends were long gone. Nessa sent a letter saying they found a “better position” elsewhere. It wasn't until Breccia herself was in trouble that they spoke up and got her where she is now.

“He'll want to hear from her tomorrow,” The Nurse and Ms. Morre's conversation cut into her imaginings. “He should be getting a call from....” She cleared her throat. “The Boss. I doubt he'll be kind.”

“Surely he knows it isn't his fault.”

“I've known the man since my youth, he doesn't care if it's the boys fault, he expects responsibility and poise.” Picking up her plastic container, now licked clean, she gave the Nurse a friendly pat on the shoulder. Before turning to go, she sent Breccia a two second glance that was neither angry or joyous.

From there the door closed behind her and the waiting game continued.

© Copyright 2018 Richard Mapes. All rights reserved.

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