ON FOOT TO THE STARS
“Mrs. Hawkins, breakfast.” The orderly wheeled a cart into the room. Katie slowly opened her eyes and reluctantly turned her head toward the door.
“I’m not hungry, thank you,” she replied.
“Now, now, young lady, you need to regain your strength,” the doctor said, following the orderly into the room.
Katie remained silent. The orderly hurriedly placed a plate of porridge and a cup of tea on the bedside table and whispered, “Eat up; Dr. James is right.” She quickly left the room.
“Feeling cheerful today?” Dr. James asked with a smile.
“Not exactly,” Katie replied gloomily, turning her gaze to the window.
“That’s all right,” the doctor continued, ignoring her tone. “The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow,” he informed her seriously.
“Will my chances improve?” Katie asked, turning back to him.
“Without a doubt, though we can’t yet speak of a full recovery,” Dr. James admitted.
“Will I be able to walk?” Katie tensed.
“I don’t want to give you false hope,” Dr. James said after a pause, “but we must seize every opportunity.”
“I understand,” Katie turned away again. She didn’t even notice when Dr. James left, nor did she hear the birds chirping in the springtime outside the window.
The accident was horrific. Katie’s friend, Sarah, had been driving. Trying to avoid oncoming traffic, Sarah sharply turned the wheel, causing the car to spin on the icy road, and a collision was inevitable. The main impact was on the passenger side. Katie regained consciousness only in the hospital. She later learned that Sarah was not as badly injured, suffering a broken arm and a concussion. Katie had broken several ribs, had an open leg fracture, and most importantly, her spine was injured. The prognosis was grim, with slim chances of her walking again. While others might have been grateful to be alive, Katie felt her world collapse. Dance was her everything—her life, her livelihood, her inspiration. Movement was her air. What now?
The next blow came from Tom’s reaction. They had been dating for two years, and he had recently proposed. Two weeks ago, as Tom sat beside her in the room, Katie silently realized the wedding would not happen. When she shared the doctors’ prognosis, Tom sat pensively, staring at the floor, and then rather hesitantly said, “You should stay positive. Things will get better.”
For the next three days, he didn’t visit. Then, a short message arrived from him: “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” The last thread of hope inside Katie snapped. She no longer cried, staring emptily at the white ceiling, imagining it crashing down on her and ending everything.
Her mother, gently stroking her hand, tried to comfort Katie, insisting that all was not lost, urging her to fight, promising that they would fight together. But Katie saw her mother’s eyes red with tears she shed after leaving the room. Dr. James also kept emphasizing the need to fight.
“Why?” Katie asked one day.
“To find happiness,” Dr. James simply replied.
“I’ll never be happy again,” Katie retorted. Dr. James looked at her intently:
“You will be. But it depends on you more than anyone else. I haven’t had much experience, but I’ve met people who’ve overcome seemingly impossible obstacles, leaving behind even incurable illnesses in hospital rooms because they wanted to live, to enjoy life, to be happy.”
Katie didn’t reply. She didn’t want to live. Not this way. And what happiness could there be? she would have asked the doctor but chose not to pursue the conversation. After all, perhaps it was customary for doctors to encourage patients.
“Not asleep?” Dr. James quietly opened the door, letting a strip of light into the dark room.
“Not asleep,” Katie replied, not noticing he had addressed her informally.
“Feeling anxious?” he asked, sitting on a chair by the window.
“No.” Katie shrugged.
“Can you imagine there was no accident? And now, ten years later, what would your life be like?” Dr. James asked, looking out the window rather than at her.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’d still be performing, or perhaps taking a daughter to dance class,” Katie managed a small smile before remembering her wedding wouldn’t take place. “You know, he left me. The moment he found out, he left.”
“Who?” Dr. James asked, although he already knew the answer. “Do you think he loved you?”
“I don’t know.” Katie shrugged again. “Maybe it’s only in romantic movies where love is so strong they would follow you through fire and water. In real life, they promise you the stars but….” Katie stopped herself, suddenly realizing Dr. James was a man too. Young and handsome, she noticed, perhaps he had a wife or girlfriend who he treated differently. Surely, he wouldn’t back down in such a situation. He’s even here, supporting her, a stranger.
“Alright, Mrs. Hawkins, get some sleep. There will be stars for you too,” Dr. James said as he left. Katie looked out the window. A patch of sky dotted with stars was indeed visible. “If only a star would fall right now,” Katie thought, but none fell, at least until she drifted to sleep.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. James stood by Katie’s bed. “Dr. Thompson said the surgery went well.”
“I suppose. But I still can’t feel my legs,” Katie sighed.
“Look what I brought you,” Dr. James handed her a small box. Katie opened it and smiled. It was filled with tiny shiny star-shaped confetti. “With enough determination, you’ll walk to the real stars yourself,” the doctor promised.
Rehabilitation was long and exhausting, and Katie often felt it was all for naught. She called him ‘James’ now, often visiting her. They chatted like old friends, discussing various topics. He could distract Katie from her gloomy thoughts, and she started believing his words that her efforts wouldn’t be in vain.
“How was today?” James asked, entering the room after Katie’s daily exercises, during which the nurse tried to coax life back into her unresponsive legs.
“Not much progress.” Katie shrugged.
“The lilacs are in bloom,” James handed her a fluffy branch he had hidden behind his back. Katie breathed in the fresh, tickling fragrance, then eagerly looked for a five-petaled bloom.
“None here.” Katie pouted and raised her eyes.
“What about here?” James offered her another small box. She smiled, anticipating another batch of tiny stars. But when she opened it, her heart skipped a beat. Inside the box was a small ring with a sparkling little gem—a different kind of star.
“Will you marry me?” James asked when Katie looked from the ring to him. She was speechless. He exhaled nervously and sat on the bed.
“You sat on my foot,” Katie whispered. “You sat on my foot!” she suddenly shouted, laughing. “You sat on my foot! I can feel it! I feel my foot!”
James jumped up and laughed with joy. And then Katie began to cry. She was smiling, but tears streamed down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong? Is it pain?” James asked, concerned. Katie shook her head:
“Remember when I said I’d never be happy again? I truly believed it. But today, there’s so much happiness at once. If you’re not afraid to marry someone like me, I hope tears won’t scare you either?” Katie laughed again.
“Nothing can scare me,” James replied, looking at his bride with tender affection.
***
“Mum, did you see that? I did it!” Anabelle ran to the bench where Katie sat.
“Of course, I saw. I filmed it all for Dad. You’re amazing,” Katie hugged her daughter.
“Miss Jenkins said I’m going to dance in the center. Does that mean I’m the best?” Anabelle boasted.
“Yes.” Katie whispered and shared a secret with her daughter. “Just don’t get too proud, or it won’t work.” Anabelle nodded knowingly. “Now let’s pack up; we’re going to pick up Dad from work.”
Ten years had passed. Katie never returned to the big stage, but she danced beautifully at her wedding. As James noted, better than him. Her journey to the stars was long, but together, they made it. To remember this and the importance of dreaming and believing in better days, Katie suggested painting their bedroom ceiling like a starry sky. James agreed. Each morning, waking up, Katie knew she could reach the stars if she truly wanted to. Any stars, anytime.
