Yhgydrt

The Man by the Window
by
Harry Buschman
In Jefferson Memorial Hospital, two men, both in bad shape, were confined to a room in the cheerless recovery wing on the twelfth floor. It was a small room, no bigger than 10 by 12 feet and it was connected to another room of identical size by a tiny bathroom. Mr. Vincent, the man in the bed by the only window was doing poorly after the removal of hislung. He was in severe pain most of the time, and every afternoon the nurse came in and propped him up to a sitting position to clear the accumulated fluid. He sat there by the window and between labored breaths he told his roommate, Parker, all the things he saw outside.
It was good for Parker. Parker was in an accident last month and his lumbar vertebrae was dislocated, resulting in the loss ofcartilage between them. He was forced to lie perfectly still on his back until it healed. All he could see was the ceiling curtain track and the face of the nurse when she bent over him.
The two men talked through the long night and during the early morning hours. They spoke of their families and friends, their jobs and their experiences in the war. They were restless and resentful of theirconfinement in Jefferson Memorial and the waste of the precious time left to them in their senior years. They dreaded the bed pan and the cold wash cloth -- and although they wanted to be left alone they were filled with sadness during visiting hours if no one came to see them. Worst of all they lost track of the world outside.
Whenever Mr. Vincent was propped up by the window, Parker would ask him,"What do you see Vinny?"
Mr. Vincent would hesitate before answering, partly because of the pain and partly because he wanted his words to be worthy of the scene, "Well, first of all it's a beautiful day. The kids must have the afternoon off from school ... they're all over the park. I remember now, the nurse said there's a school board election."
"How would she know?"
"Well she had to get asitter. That's where her little boy is -- over there, in the park. I'll bet he's the one by the lake. He's got a sailboat and it's headed for this little string of ducks ... look at that!"
"What? What?"
"The little boat. It sailed right through the line of ducks ... now it's headed for the other side of the lake. The little kid is running like hell around the lake trying to get there before hissailboat does."
"Gee, I wish I could see."
"You will, you will, as soon as they let you sit up. You're a sick man Parker ... remember?"
Every day the park was different, and every day Mr. Vincent had a different story to tell.
"It's cloudy today -- it looks cooler. You can see ripples on the lake."
"Any kids in the park?"
"Not so many as yesterday."
"You'll tell me when you see something,Vinny ... won't you?
Mr. Vincent turned his head back to the window. "I see a couple walking under
the trees at this end of the lake."
"What do you mean, 'couple'?"
"You know what I mean. They're walking together. The man has his arm around her and her hand is on his shoulder. They just stopped by the willow -- you remember the willow, Parker?"
"Yeah, I remember. What are they doing now?""What do you suppose?"
"How the hell do I know! I'm layin' here flat on my back ... you can see. I can't."
"They're kissing." A moment or two passed and Mr. Vincent turned to Parker
... "They're still kissing. How long can can you hold a kiss without breathing?"
"You breathe through your nose, remember -- you can go on for hours. ... they still at it?"
Mr. Vincent took a quick look out thewindow. "No, they're walking off arm in arm. Those were the days, remember Parker?"
"You kiddin'? I proposed to my wife in that same park."
"By the willow tree I'll bet."
Both men could hardly wait the afternoon of the parade. When the nurse came in at three o'clock, both Mr. Vincent and Parker were on edge. They checked the route of the march in the morning paper, "They'll be coming down Fifth...