Part IV:

 

            “Dr. McKella to the second floor,” said a voice over the hall intercom.  That little bit of talking outside the door was just enough to wake Michael out of his light sleep.  He moaned when he felt a slight pain in his neck, probably from letting his head lean back on the chair.

            He sat himself up and checked his watch; it was four in the morning.  This would be the dawn of Kitt’s third day of recovery, and Michael had only gone home once in those three days.

            There was still little sign of his regaining consciousness.  However, the doctors and nurses were in every twenty minutes and they always had good things to say about his condition.  So far, there hadn’t been any complications, and according to Dr. Larson, the first 48 hours were the most critical.  That would hopefully mean Kitt was out of danger.

            Michael stood up and leaned backwards to stretch his tired body.  He hadn’t slept much, nor really eaten anything more than cafeteria food, excluding the previous day’s trip to McDonald’s.  Walking out into the hallway, he found that it was rather deserted and quiet.  He noticed the floor’s morning shift nurse arriving for her daily duty.  He thanked his lucky stars that he never took a job that had to be at work so early in the morning.

            He walked down to the end of the hall, then returned to Kitt’s room and stood in the doorway.  He was still hooked up to several monitors and it seemed he would be until he woke up, which would hopefully be soon.

 

            Devon and Bonnie made their morning appearance at ten o’clock, and to Michael’s pleasant surprise, the brought him breakfast.  Unfortunately, though, he had to go downstairs to eat it because they wouldn’t allow food on that particular floor, unless it was for a patient of course.

            Michael made his way to the elevator and to the cafeteria on the first floor.  Once he was done eating, about ten minutes later, he went into the gift shop and was immediately greeted by the clerk, who had become familiar with the tall man’s appearance.

            Michael looked around and noticed a few boxes were sitting at the end of the small store, a new shipment probably.  Going over he peaked inside the boxes—they were miniature models of cars.  A few had already been put on the shelf and he smiled at the first one he laid eyes on.  It was a 1992 Firebird.  He noticed the new year’s model hadn’t changed much from the previous year, but it had since his Trans Am was new.  The only apparent difference was the spoiler almost framed the top of the trunk and the front end was much more rounded than his black t-top was.  This car happened to be white, but Michael still had the urge to buy it.  He just wasn’t sure if Kitt would appreciate it so soon.

            It was half an hour later when Michael returned to the third floor, and Bonnie quickly greeted him.  “Michael,” she said quickly.  “Come quick!”

            They moved hastily towards the room, Michael almost in a panic.  “What happened?” He asked, but when they arrived he only saw Devon sitting in the chair and the heart monitor gave off the same beeping sound.

            “You just missed it,” Devon said motioning towards the bed.  “Kitt’s hand just moved.”

            Michael couldn’t help but let a small smile creep onto his face as he gazed at Kitt’s hand.  And then, to his most pleasant surprise, his hand moved again.  “He must be coming around,” Bonnie said as she clapped her hands together.

            Dr. Larson came in later that day.  He was extremely pleased to hear that Kitt was already moving, which means the body was out of the coma.  “He’s readings are excellent,” he commented after looking at the equipment.  “I’m tempted to see if we could take him off the oxygen mask and put him on nose tubes.”

            Later that night, Michael and the others watched as Dr. Larson and another nurse removed the large mask from Kitt’s face and put the small nose tubes in his nostrils and pushed them around his ears to keep them out of the way.  The mask was disconnected from the tank and the tube was replaced, leaving Kitt’s new face much more recognizable.  “We’ll keep a constant eye on him to make sure he’s going to be okay with this,” the doctor said before leaving for the night.

            The next morning, however, was something that no one expected.  Michael slept later than he had the day before, and probably would’ve continued to dream about driving the Trans Am along the beach, until he heard something.

            When he let himself start to become aware of things, he noticed that the sound he was hearing was extremely close by.  In fact, it was right in front of him.  Kitt’s body was trying to shift and find a comfortable position.

            Michael’s eyes shot open and he sat on the end of his seat and touched Kitt’s hand for the first time.  “Kitt?” he asked softly.  The only response he received was stillness.  Kitt must have heard the voice because he seemed to be waiting for more.  

            Michael wasn’t sure now that his friend would be up to talking, considering that his throat had a few stitches in the side where they placed the vibrating piece on his voice box.  The only thing that kept Michael from seeing this before was the thick tube of the oxygen mask was covering it and the bandage had recently been removed.

            Kitt’s body relaxed, realizing that it was worthless to try to move, since he was being restrained to the bed.  His face twitched and his mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.  After that, there was nothing.

            When Devon and Bonnie arrived later that morning, Michael couldn’t wait to tell them everything that happened.  At this point, he didn’t want to leave Kitt’s side in case something else exciting would happen.

            And happen it did on the sixth day.  Bonnie had been able to convince Michael he needed to get out, so she took him to one of his favorite restaurants downtown.  When they had returned, Devon smiled and told them to go next to Kitt quietly.

            Devon gave Michael a nod and he gently said, “Kitt?”

            It was a few moments before anything occurred.  But finally the eyes tightened and forced themselves to slowly open.  They blinked several times to adjust to the light of the room, and then the blue eyes scanned the area to see who had said his name.

            Looking to the right he noticed an attractive brunette staring at him with deep brown eyes, and a smile spread across her face.  He knew who this was.  “Bonnie?” he asked in an abrasive voice.

            Bonnie’s smile grew wider and she touched his hand.  “Its good to see you, Kitt.”

            Then Kitt saw someone else out of the corner of his eye.  His head slowly turned to the left and his sight rested on a tall man with curly brown hair and blue eyes.  “Is that you, Michael?” He asked slowly in the same scratchy voice.

            “It sure is, pal,” Michael said happily.  He almost could feel a tear threatening to streak down his cheek.  Kitt’s bright blue eyes sparkled in the artificial light, and he tried to make a smile.  But the lids became heavy, and started to cover the blueness.  “Rest up, buddy.  Life is only beginning,” Michael Knight said as he watched Kitt fall into another sleep.

 

ßßß

 

            Kitt was much more aware of everything the next morning.  He was already awake when Michael came around and already he was ready to talk.  “Awake already?” Michael asked as he sat up from his slumped position.

            “Long ago,” Kitt replied weakly.  “How long have I been here?”

            Michael stood up and stretched.  “Seven days.”

            Kitt waited for Michael to return to his seat before asking, “Have you been here the entire time?”

            Michael nodded.  “I told you I would be.”

            Kitt smiled.  “I appreciate it, Michael.”  Kitt’s voice wasn’t as scratchy as it had been the day before, but though it was recognizable, it still wasn’t at full speed.

            “So, how’s it feel?” Michael asked finally.

            Kitt thought for a moment.  “Very strange.  I cannot only hear you, but I can see what you really look like, not just an outlined image.  Along with that I can smell, taste the air, feel the bed and move freely, although I’d love to get off of this thing.”

            “Well, I have no control over that.  Dr. Larson has the say when you’re allowed to move around as you wish.  But you feel fine?”

            “As far as I know.  I do have a slight pain in my back and I’m extremely tired.  I feel that if I close my eyes I’ll go back to sleep.”

            Michael was amazed at how Kitt had adapted to the human body already.  It was like he never was a computer that controlled a car.  He was already analyzing what he felt and what it was supposed to be.  Michael knew that Kitt would out of there in no time.

            “I see that someone is on top of things today!” came a deep and cheerful voice.  Dr. Larson walked in, wearing his usual shirt and tie along with the white lab coat.  “Dr. Croffey picked a good day to come by.  He’ll see his work at work!  How wonderful to see you functioning so beautifully, Kitt.”

            “Thank you,” Kitt said, although he felt as if he was being referred to more like a computer than a human this time.

            “I think that taking those belts away is in order later on.  That, and we’ll see if we can get you off being fed through the IV.”

            “Lucky you,” Michael said once the doctor left.  “The first food you get to eat is hospital food.”    

            “You don’t sound so enthusiastic,” Kitt replied.

            “I’m not.”

 

            Dr. Larson was true to his word.  After Dr. Croffey’s visit and agreement that Kitt would make a full recovery, nurses came in to unstrap the restraints on Kitt’s arms and waist.  Then they helped him sit up in the bed and lean back against several pillows. And the finishing touch was when one of the nurses brought in scissors to cut away the bandages from Kitt’s head. 

            She finished the last cut and gently removed the bandage, standing back for everyone to see the mess of short brown hair that hadn’t seen a comb in a week.  Bonnie took her makeup compact out of her purse and opened it for Kitt so he could look at himself in the small mirror. 

            “Am I ok?” He asked rather shyly.

            “I think you’re great,” Bonnie admitted and the others agreed. 

            “It seems Michael has some competition,” Devon commented.

            “He might have the looks, but he’s still lacking the pizzazz,” Michael said giving a small Elvis-like gesture, giving Kitt a reason to laugh for the first time in his life.

           

            Time seemed to be going much quicker now that Kitt had regained consciousness and was interacting with his environment.  It wasn’t too hard to figure out how to move his arms and hands; it just seemed to have come naturally.  However, the real challenge came when Dr. Larson gave the okay for Kitt to learn how to walk.

            Compared to everyone else, especially in front of his friends, he felt utterly ridiculous being wheeled down the hall, in and out of an elevator, and to the Physical Therapy unit dressed in only a hospital nightgown and a pair of sticky bottomed socks.

            Michael tried to conceal the small fit of laughter that built up inside of him, but he had been in the same boat on several occasions himself and knew exactly how Kitt felt.  He was just excited to see his best friend take his first steps.

            “All right, Mr. Knight,” the therapist said.

            Kitt started to turn a bright shade of red.  “Please, call me Kitt,” he told her.

            “Alright, Kitt,” she repeated with the correction, “what I’m going to have you do is place your hands on these two bars.  Jack and I will help you to your feet.  Just relax and let us help you.”

            Kitt nodded and he placed his hands on the cold metal bars.  The therapists, Jack and Amy, held both of his biceps and pulled him up out of the chair. 

            “Try to straighten your legs,” Amy told him as she watched Kitt struggle with the weight of his body.  “Good!” She commented when Kitt’s legs straightened and his feet lay flat on the floor.  “Now, we know that you’ve been in a coma for some time, so we’re going to slowly let you put weight on your legs, but we won’t let you go.  If you feel any pain, tell us immediately.”

            “Okay,” Kitt said.  He began to feel the pressure on his feet and his legs felt as if they’d collapse at any moment.  The therapists noticed this and they let him gently fall back into the wheelchair.  “I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, his gaze shifting from the therapists to Bonnie and Michael who watched on the side.

            “That’s alright,” Jack said.  “It’s expected.  We’re going to have you start off with some simple exercises…”

            After that ‘simple’ half-hour session, Kitt was nothing less than exhausted.  The only thing he wanted to do was go back to his room and sleep.  But then the nurse told him that he was being moved to the second floor, seeing that he no longer qualified to be in the ICU.

            “That’s great news, Kitt,” Bonnie told them once they were in the elevator.

            Kitt only moaned a yes as he held his head in his hand.   He was very happy to be lifted back into the bed and he relaxed into the pillows.  But his rest was cut short when a nurse brought in a tray and placed it on a table, which wheeled over to the bed and extended out to serve as a tray table.

            “Food?” Kitt asked when she left. 

            “Looks like only chicken soup and Jell-O,” Michael said looking at it.

            “Do you need help eating it?” Bonnie asked.

            “Bonnie, he’s not a baby,” Michael asked.

            “But this will be the first time he’s eating, Michael,” she retorted.

            “Please, don’t argue over me,” Kitt told them softly.  “I’d like to try this for myself.”  Other than being rather hot, the soup was quite good and the wiggling green Jell-O felt good going down his sore throat.

            Kitt spent the remainder of the night watching the small black and white TV that hung next to the bed with Michael and Bonnie.  The program was quite comical, although Kitt fell asleep halfway through it.

 

 

ßßß

 

            After another three days had passed, Kitt was moved into yet another room, only this was usually for people staying a short while at the hospital.  When they wheeled him to his new location, Kitt noticed he would not be alone.  A small boy sat in the second bed playing a hand held video game.

            He looked up at Kitt and the nurses and smiled shyly.  “High Mary Jane,” he said happily.

            “How are you today, Keith?” the nurse asked as she and another nurse helped Kitt into his bed.

            “I’m good,” came the boy’s reply.

            “That’s good.  Keith, this is Kitt.  He’ll be sharing this room with you until you’re able to go home,” Mary Jane said.  She checked her watch as she headed towards the door.  “I have to run.  You guys play nice.”

            Kitt turned his head and their eyes met.  A smile spread across Keith’s thin and pale face.  But Kitt noticed something he had never seen on a child before; Keith wore a hat on his head, but it appeared there was no hair under it.  Although his eyes were bright and cheerful, they seemed to have dark circles beneath them.

            “Hello, Keith,” Kitt said in a friendly manner.  “I’m Kitt.”

            “Nice to meet you.”  Keith turned his game off.  “What are you here for?”

            Kitt thought a moment and decided it wasn’t right to tell the boy exactly the reason why he was there.  “I’m recovering from surgery.  Why are you here?”

            Keith’s smile faded a tiny bit.  “I’m sick.  I passed out in school a few days ago and they’re keeping me here until they think I’m strong enough to go home.  But they said that would be tomorrow—maybe even today!”

            Kitt liked the boy’s enthusiasm.  “Well, I’m glad I’m sharing a room with you,” he said.  “What are you doing there?”

            “Oh,” Keith replied looking at the game.  “I was playing my racing game.”

            “What kind of race?”

            “Nascar.”

            “You seem to have an interest in cars,” Kitt said thoughtfully.

            “I love cars!  My favorite one is a Firebird.  They’re really cool!  Corvettes are awesome too!”  He turned slightly in his bed to be able to face Kitt better.  “What’s your favorite car?”

            Kitt laughed.  “I’d have to vote for a Firebird as well.”

            “My mom knows a lady that got to ride in a cool black one!  This car could do everything—even talk!”  Kitt listened intently.  “She said that this car was the prettiest thing she ever saw—never a mark on it!”

            At that moment Michael walked into the room.  “I see you’ve got yourself a roommate, buddy.”

            “Keith, this is my friend Michael.  Keith and I will be sharing this room until he goes home,” Kitt explained.

            “Actually, I think that will be sooner than you think,” Michael said pointing towards the door.  “I think your mother was down the hall talking to the receptionist, Keith.  I heard her mentioning she was here to pick up her son.”

            “Awesome!” Keith said.  “Too bad I couldn’t stay and talk more about cars with you, Kitt.  You’ve got good taste.”

            “Perhaps we will meet again soon, Keith,” Kitt suggested.

 

            Keith’s mother spent some time with them that afternoon.  She was an extremely friendly lady, but seemed to be very stressed about her son’s condition.  Nonetheless, she was pleased Kitt was there to cheer Keith up.

            When the young boy was gone, Michael came back into the room after seeing them off and sat next to Kitt.  “Nice kid,” he said.

            “He’s a very nice kid,” Kitt agreed.

            “Its too bad though,” Michael said quietly.  Kitt gave him a puzzled look.  “Kitt, Keith’s mother told me that he’s only been given another year to live.”

            “What?” Kitt asked surprised.

            “He’s got cancer and the chemotherapy is taking everything out of him.  And unfortunately, his cancer is incurable.”

            “I wish there was something I could do for him,” Kitt said. 

            “Unfortunately there’s nothing you can do, partner,” Michael told him.  “That’s when you say to yourself life’s not fair.”