The First Day!

Chapter One

It was white, as white as snow. It slid under his eyes and into his head, filling it entirely until he thought it would burst. A voice, deep and low, murmuring from far away. Gradually, he became aware of a pressure underneath him, running the length of his body. It was soft.

The light blinked out suddenly, and he was left alone in the darkness. He started to panic, and felt his heart beat and his lungs breath, as if for the first time. He opened his mouth, and it was dry and it was sore. Someone took hold of his hand.

Gradually, the light returned. But this time it was dim, like a torch fading. Shadows stretched across his vision, and slowly became shapes. A chair, a cabinet. A person watching.

After what felt like an eternity, Karl Gabriel was reborn.

“Take it easy,” he heard a voice say, “just take it easy.”

He turned to the voice, and made out an elderly man, standing over him. He had thinning white hair, and a thick, grey moustache. Dressed in a long, white coat, he was peering at a notepad in his hands, writing. Eventually, he looked up and smiled.

“That’s good, Mr Gabriel. Everything is looking good.” He clicked the pen and slid it into his breast pocket, and clipped the notepad onto the side of the bed. Then he turned to a woman sitting next to him and said, “He’s a survivor all right.”

She was younger, with curly brown hair tied up and a silver watch that glinted when she moved. Her eyes were kind and she looked at Karl, and when she nodded her affirmation she squeezed his hand again.

The older man sat down gently on the side of the bed. Karl was having trouble focusing on him. His right eye was aching with the strain. The man took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. “How are you feeling, Mr Gabriel?”

Karl opened his mouth once more, but trying to speak only resulted in a rasping cough that ripped through his throat. The pain made him close his eyes briefly, sinking back into the pillow and for a moment, into the darkness again. The stranger sitting on his bed turned to the woman and told her to get a bowl of ice. She sprang up and quickly slipped out the room. Karl concentrated on his breathing, and slowly the pain began to throb less and less.

When she returned, he took the ice gratefully, allowing the soothing water to slide down his aching throat. Once he had his breath back, he looked at them both and whispered, “Where am I?”

The older man nodded. “You’re in hospital, Mr Gabriel. Do you remember what happened?”

Karl shook his head.

“That’s to be expected,” the man said, “you’re injuries were...severe.”

The woman leaned in and passed Karl more ice. “I’m Nurse Ada,” she said, and motioned towards her colleague. “This is Doctor Eckhardt. You’re in Munich, Mr Gabriel. You were brought in three days ago, do you remember any of this?”

Again, Karl shook his head. He concentrated on the ice.  It was all too much to take in; he was barely able to focus on what they were saying never mind comprehend the meaning of it. Why was he in hospital? Why did they both look so nervous? And why the hell couldn’t he see properly?

Doctor Eckhardt cleared his throat. “Tell me, Mr Gabriel, do you know what year it is?”

Karl stared at him for a moment. Then he closed his eyes and pressed his head back into the pillow. He wanted them both to leave, right now. It was bad enough being woken in such a damned rude fashion, but to follow it up with a bombardment of stupid questions like these, it was too much.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything,” he growled at Eckhardt. “Just give me some goddamn straight answers or let me sleep!”

The exertion took its toll on him, and he panted quietly to recover, his eyes locked on the old doctor’s. It pleased him to see the doctor look away nervously.

Eckhardt gave an apologetic smile, and Nurse Ada joined him. “I’m sorry, Mr Gabriel,” he said, “you are clearly extremely confused. However, I hasten to add that I do not believe we are in much of a position to give you answers.” He paused, and shifted his weight. “I do not wish to cause more irritation, but I must ask you again: what year is it?”

Karl gritted his teeth, and the action sent shivers of pain through his cheeks and neck. “Goddamn it doctor,” he snarled, “what the fuck happened to me!”

“I told you, we don’t have many answers –”

It must have been the look on Karl’s face that shut him up mid-sentence. “I don’t know,” he said softly, uneasiness – having been brushed aside with anger – being replaced with a dab of fear. “I don’t know what year it is. I don’t remember ... I don’t remember anything before ... before ...”

His voice trailed off as his mind wandered. What was the last thing he remembered?

“I was on the battlefield,” Karl murmured. “I was in the trenches.”

Eckhardt looked relieved, and nodded. “Yes. That much we were able to work out for ourselves. You were brought to us three days ago, in an extremely bad condition. It was clear you’d been in a brawl of some kind.”

“I don’t understand, with who? Is this a war clinic?”

“No.” Ada spoke kindly, which only served to annoy Karl more. “Mr Gabriel, the war is over. It’s been over for some time now.”

Karl exploded. “Good God woman you’re as bad as he is,” he exclaimed, thrusting his arm towards Doctor Eckhardt. “Why don’t you tell me what goddamn year it is!”

“It’s 1923.”

Her words hung in the air. Karl looked at her, trying to understand what she was saying. Had she misspoke? Was it the aftermath of his ordeal? His mind seemed to take an age to comprehend.

“How long...”

“The war finished almost five years ago, Karl,” she said quietly, using his first name. She looked up at the doctor, who motioned for her to continue. “We managed to trace your records. You were listed as killed in action, just before the end of the war.”

Now it really was too much to take in. A terror swept through Karl, and he felt as though he would pass out at any second.

“I don’t understand,” he said, “how did I get here? Where have I been for the last five years?”

“We don’t know,” Eckhardt interjected, “when you were brought in you were suffering from a stab wound. A real nasty one, too. Sliced clean through your stomach lining, almost took out your small intestine.”

Karl looked down and lifted the covers. It was then he noticed the bandages wrapped around his stomach. They were bright white and clean, with no sign of the bloody mess that must have been. As he looked his vision blurred again, and he realised his head was started to throb on his right side.

“What’s wrong with my eyes?” he asked. “It’s hard to focus, I can’t seem to...”

He trailed off as he realised. Slowly he lifted his left hand, ran it up the left side of his face. He felt his chest tighten as he touched the surgical tape. Eckhardt started to say something but Karl wasn’t listening. Taking hold of the end of the tape, he ripped it off in one fluid motion, and felt a soft patch lift off his left eye. Gingerly he put his fingers into the smooth, empty socket where his eye had been, and blacked out.

When he awoke once more it was dark, and he was alone. After those blissful few moments of not knowing were over, his heart sank as he remembered what had taken place earlier. Immediately he checked his eye; the patch was taped back on. This time he didn’t bother taking it off.

He lay awake for a long time, staring up at the ceiling. The only light came from the window, where a gap in the curtains allowed a sliver of moon to shine through. It cut across the bed and ran up the wall, and he realised he hadn’t even looked around his room before. All he’d been focused on was the doctor and his nurse.

He soon slipped back into sleep. The exertion of the day’s events had taken their toll, and Karl’s entire body felt bruised and battered. He vowed as he drifted off to get that damned doctor to give him some straight answers. Like how he’d ended up in Munich for one; he remembered going there once as a younger man and hating it with a passion. He needed to get back home. Back to his farm, where his family would be waiting for him. No doubt they would die of shock when they saw him after all this time. And thinking he was dead!

So where had he been all this time? Karl didn’t want to admit it but he couldn’t remember a blasted thing. His head was as cloudy and foggy as a stormy night, and ached when he tried to think back. But as he drifted off, and his mind relaxed, a single thought sailed through his head and he clutched at it with joyous relief.

France, he exclaimed to himself, I was in France.