The Zahir Page 0,51

me up; I yelled at them not to touch me, any movement could be dangerous. I had learned during a trivial conversation one trivial night that if I ever injured my neck, any sudden movement could leave me permanently paralyzed.

I struggled to remain conscious; I waited for a pain that never came; I tried to move, then thought better of it. I experienced a feeling like cramp, like torpor. I again asked not to be moved. I heard a distant siren and knew then that I could sleep, that I no longer needed to fight to save my life; whether it was won or lost, it was no longer up to me, it was up to the doctors, to the nurses, to fate, to "the thing," to God.

I heard the voice of a child - she told me her name, but I couldn't quite grasp it - telling me to keep calm, promising me that I wouldn't die. I wanted to believe what she said, I begged her to stay by my side, but she vanished; I was aware of someone placing something plastic around my neck, putting a mask over my face, and then I went to sleep again, and this time there were no dreams.

When I regained consciousness, all I could hear was a horrible buzzing in my ears; the rest was silence and utter darkness. Suddenly, I felt everything moving, and I was sure I was being carried along in my coffin, that I was about to be buried alive!

I tried banging on the walls, but I couldn't move a muscle. For what seemed an eternity, I felt as if I were being propelled helplessly forward; then, mustering all my remaining strength, I uttered a scream that echoed around the enclosed space and came back to my own ears, almost deafening me; but I knew that once I had screamed, I was safe, for a light immediately began to appear at my feet: they had realized I wasn't dead!

Light, blessed light - which would save me from that worst of all tortures, suffocation - was gradually illuminating my whole body: they were finally removing the coffin lid. I broke out in a cold sweat, felt the most terrible pain, but was also happy and relieved that they had realized their mistake and that joy could return to the world!

The light finally reached my eyes: a soft hand touched mine, someone with an angelic face was wiping the sweat from my brow.

"Don't worry," said the angelic face, with its golden hair and white robes. "I'm not an angel, you didn't die, and this isn't a coffin, it's just a body scanner, to find out if you suffered any other injuries. There doesn't appear to be anything seriously wrong, but you'll have to stay in for observation."

"No broken bones?"

"Just general abrasions. If I brought you a mirror, you'd be horrified, but the swelling will go down in a few days."

I tried to get up, but she very gently stopped me. Then I felt a terrible pain in my head and groaned.

"You've had an accident; it's only natural that you should be in pain."

"I think you're lying to me," I managed to say. "I'm a grown man, I've had a good life, I can take bad news without panicking. Some blood vessel in my head is about to burst, isn't it?"

Two nurses appeared and put me on a stretcher. I realized that I had an orthopedic collar around my neck.

"Someone told us that you asked not to be moved," said the angel. "Just as well. You'll have to wear this collar for a while, but barring any unforeseen events - because one can never tell what might happen - you'll just have had a nasty shock. You're very lucky."

"How long? I can't stay here."

No one said anything. Marie was waiting for me outside the radiology unit, smiling. The doctors had obviously already told her that my injuries were not, in principle, very serious. She stroked my hair and carefully disguised any shock she might feel at my appearance.

Our small cortege proceeded along the corridor - Marie, the two nurses pushing the stretcher, and the angel in white. The pain in my head was getting worse all the time.

"Nurse, my head..."

"I'm not a nurse. I'm your doctor for the moment. We're waiting for your own doctor to arrive. As for your head, don't worry. When you have an accident, your body closes down all the blood vessels as a defense mechanism,