Time
The world still had wars, unfortunately. The big lie that those in power told the younger people was that the Flowers had ceased all war. But the truth was, it was still there; brute force had been the way of humankind as a species.
The Flowers had lowered the statistics, however, and the suspected reason was that no one had to face, not only war, but empty life, alone. It fell away due to prevention and sustainability where weapons were laid down in place of, as cliche a concept as it might seem, love.
Galina, Irina’s only daughter, spent much of her life alone. Nineteen years passed and Galina should have been officially unified with her Match Benji long before then (as he had pointed out to her when they were younger) but for reasons she wasn’t aware of, the pairing hadn’t gone through even at thirty-one years of age.
The usual absolute cut-off for the first Match was by age twenty-four. Afterwards, the top ten list was assessed and a new pair should have been assigned but wasn’t. She should have been partnered with another, but she never was.
The absentee and outlier that she was, created an insecurity within her that she attempted to quell in various ways. Despite her incessant inquiries throughout the years, neither her handler Samson, nor her brothers, her father, or mother had news about him.
They knew of him, that he was Galina’s Match, but nothing more. Obviously, it was suspicious that Irina, one half creator of The Flower Program, claimed to have no information. That only fueled Galina’s resentment for her mother.
As she was someone who yearned to nurture people, she moved into the education that Sovpadeniye had chosen for her at the Institute training which was nursing.
She aspired to be a cultivator in her field despite her personal plight. Galina became solidified in her role as a leader to help newcomers, and consequently felt quite content professionally, though lonely.
Galina had been selected to go to Dixon; she made her way there in July of 2053. Dixon was one of the best military hospitals in the country. It was located a mile from an airport and often helicopters landed on the large green grassy field to bring soldiers in for the best of care.
Because of its reputation, plenty of people were drawn there for their careers or when seeking medical attention. They were specialists with imaging and hired only upper level staff. Being hired at Dixon was a prestigious honor that she had hoped her mother would not only approve of but be proud of. Perhaps they could mend what had happened between them.
Her role as head nurse meant she could assist adeptly, when Flower and the soldier were present. It was usually inspiring and worthwhile to see the young Flower curb their passion and follow the task at hand.
In all actuality, the age of the Flower didn’t always factor. Galina had a talent for meeting Flowers at their varied stages and was able to teach anyone at any point in their training.
She would sometimes sit with them after witnessing the chaos and permanent pain of war that had marked them, which was when the tears came for the Flower and oftentimes the soldier too. She had found her calling in guiding these souls who bore the cross of pain, for she had borne pain too. She recognized it before it even came through the door.
Galina eventually became a psychiatric nurse and took to prescribing medications for soldiers via their Flowers. Before she graduated with the higher degree she had to attend several classes and Dixon gladly provided her that education.
She studied when time would allow and the environment was agreeable. She had always enjoyed school since she could lose herself in her books. In between her studies, she put in time rotating under doctors and other nurses.
Her indelible focus helped her to escape her creeping fear about a potential future of solitude. Galina eventually graduated and took to prescribing medications. She studied when time would allow and the environment was agreeable.
Some of her days she spent sitting outside in the back of Dixon at the red painted picnic tables, reading Pharmacology books and taking notes.
When she was perched there, oftentimes she forlornly witnessed soldiers engaging in P.T. and wondered what happened with her pairing and if she was destined to be alone. These thoughts became incessant and she questioned whether she’d ever find freedom from their darkened, burning clutches.
Had her mother delayed it? It certainly had been some time since they had spoken. An argument after several glasses of white wine had spurred their parting. It hadn’t been a minor argument, clearly.
Her brother Dominik had supported her as back up when Galina questioned her mother’s motivations in having Sovpadeniye be her Titan. Sovpadeniye was unwell--Irina had to have known that.
At best "unwell" described him. At worst, the word psychopath became him.
Regardless of what events unfolded in reference to her training and pairing, she was quite certain that her baggage and her mistakes had been the deciding factors of her fate at least according to the Flowers.
Perhaps it was her punishment to never be paired, to be an outcast in a society where nobody was cast out. Nobody except for those who went to the “Outer”, that is.
On the evening of July 1st, 2054, she was walking through the hospital unit at Dixon. She had been there for about a year. The halls and walls were home to her. She lived there, literally, after all.
The regular ward had steel metal beds set up and many soldiers were nursing their lacerations, burns, loss of limbs, and other psychological tribulations.
She wandered towards one man who had a bandage wrapped around his head. She checked his IV, replaced the saline and added a bit of morphine.
Let him sleep longer and not worry about waking up in agony.
She noticed outside that the trees were painted in moonlight, the green leaves shimmering in the breeze. The wind reminded her of that night so many years ago. Benji. He had not left her thoughts.
Galina’s twelve-year-old self surfaced when she was immersed in thought about him. She often wondered where he was, why he never contacted her, or where he had been sent as a soldier.
Whenever she attempted to perform an online search about him, she was blocked. As of this date, he was still alive. That was as much as she knew. She had to trust that the official Match would follow through.
Galina stared out at the moon that July night and she then peered down at her white uniform. The light cast through it and she noticed some blood on the sleeve. She frowned for a moment and then walked to her room.
As she was entering, she could hear the doors open from the front entrance. She scrubbed the blood off gently as she listened and then she could hear a commotion.
Leaving her bathroom she peered around the left corner from her entry door. She could see a man on a stretcher, scowling and angrily shouting as two nurses attempted to restrain him. A doctor arrived, walked up calmly and injected the man. His speech became slower within mere moments nearly instantly and then it stopped altogether.
“Nurse Sokolov," the doctor called. Galina nodded and walked out. She had changed her name to her mother’s maiden after many unstable individuals had attempted to make contact with her.
“Bring this one to ward six please,” the doctor said. She nodded. They put him on a wheeled stretcher, and she pulled it through the long hallway. It was quiet except for the rattling of the wheels. She watched the shadows that the stretcher cast then slowly pushed it into ward six.
This was her ward – the psychiatric ward. Lights out was at 10 which brought about a calmness that she reveled in. The darkness was faded slightly by small round LEDs built into the wall and floor.
It felt warm in there and she was comforted from hearing all of the soldiers sleeping, their breathing or snoring rhythmic. She brought the man she had on the stretcher to an empty part of the ward, the very last bed. Then she realized that she would need someone else to help her move him. Straight away she walked down to get another nurse.
It wasn’t hard to locate another Flower, Gracie Napolitano and she accompanied Galina back to the bed. Gracie whispered questions to Galina and Galina answered her as quietly as she could. The two of them were able to move him, and though he was heavy, none of their jostles woke him.
Galina pulled his boots off and covered him with a blanket. She moved to his ear, just as she did with all of the soldiers in her ward and said, “Never tonight." His hair appeared black in the dim light, and she could barely see his face.
I will help you, whoever you are.
It was strange but she could swear she smelled a familiar scent that he carried. A smell she would never forget. Cigarettes and “him.” Her chest fluttered. It couldn’t be.
Galina’s eyes met Gracie’s and they nodded. Gracie took out the file that had been placed on his bed then motioned for Galina to follow her out of the room.
They exited slightly and stood in the dimly lit hallway. She followed behind Galina and then handed her the chart. Galina held it up to the light and studied it. She found the name. Newport, Simon Benjamin. Her heart skipped in excitement.
Handing it back to Gracie right away, she turned nearly unable to contain her emotion. Years of pushing the thoughts and feelings down inside of her began to press against her head as if she were a bottle of pop about to lose the cap. She remained just barely composed but managed to ask Gracie to check on him.
“But aren’t you more qualified?" Gracie questioned.
“Yes, but I have quite a bit of training to do in the morning and he will be asleep, so you can handle it.”
Galina needed a minute.
Gracie studied Galina and nodded, a small curious and confused smile on her face. Galina stepped away as hurriedly as she could before Gracie witnessed the head nurse’s shaky hands.
Galina swiftly walked outside into the fall night and soon she found herself running around to the trees that overlooked the hospital. For some reason she was exhilarated but also terrified. She held onto the bark of the largest tree, the wind picking up.
Her nurse’s hat suddenly blew off, flying into the wind. She watched it tumble across the field and she was suddenly there, in the Secret Grass, as though she had never left.
A flutter in her chest began to overtake her as she allowed the blocked feelings of uncertainty leave her. She smiled and even skipped once before she went back.
After her momentary emotionality subsided, Galina reentered the hospital. It was close to 05:00. She made her way back to ward six. Gracie was taking vitals for Benji. Gracie noticed Galina and then motioned for her to come in.
“Maybe he’s sick? I don’t know why he’s here,” she whispered to Galina.
“Sick?” Galina stared at Gracie with seriousness, feeling worried, then began inspecting his palms.
“Not Zhazhda.” Gracie shook her head at Galina in disappointment. “You trained me to check first. What kind of nurse would I be?” she whispered. Galina nodded once, abruptly, aware of her own lack of focus.
Gracie moved aside and Galina listened to his heart with the automatic stethoscope. She had just begun placement when suddenly, he woke up.
“Where the fuck am I?” he shouted. Galina jumped slightly. He peered up at her, at the blood cuff and then he scowled, gripping it. He yanked it off and pulled it from Galina. She gasped, stepping back as he threw it. Galina stared at him, clearly alarmed.
He gripped her arm and asked, “Who are you bloody twats?” His teeth were gritted as he looked back and forth in fear and anger. Gracie was frozen but then she ran to the closest cart. She grabbed Haldol and Ativan and placed the vials in Galina’s hands.
“Go find someone else to hold him down,” Galina instructed as inconspicuously as she could. Gracie nodded and ran out to the hall. Galina studied him, grateful for a moment alone. Surely he’d recognize her. He had to.
“Benji,” she said quietly. He looked at her with another glare. “Do you remember me?” she whispered with an excited smile.
“I don’t know who you are, Chooser.” She shivered from the anger radiating from him. It wasn’t like her to be this shaken, especially since being at Dixon.
“It’s me, Benji,”she said with urgency. He gripped her arm again, staring at her through squinted eyelids. “It’s Galina,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes.
