WISDOM WITH TEETH 2/2
The nurse returns with
a wheelchair. "Alright, Mr.
Plankton," she says with a
smile. "Let's get you up and
moving."
He looks at her with
a dazed expression, his
mouth hanging open slightly
as he drools onto his chest.
"Whath's the maddah?"
he asks, his words jumbled.
Karen tries to hide her
smile as she gently wipes
his mouth with a tissue.
"You're just groggy, sweetie.
The anesthesia's wearing off,"
she explains, taking his hand.
"Let's get you into the chair."
With her help, Plankton
manages to stand, his legs
shaky beneath him. The nurse
places the wheelchair behind
him, and he plops down with a
sigh of relief, the chair's cushions
enveloping his frail frame. His drool
hangs from his mouth like a
tiny waterfall, and she can't
help but lean in and kiss him
gently on the forehead.
He looks up at Karen with
the wide, wondering eye
of a toddler discovering the world
for the first time.
"Whath's...thath?" he asks,
his gaze fixed on the
wheelchair. Karen laughs
lightly, her hand still
steadying his arm. "It's for
you to sit in so you don't
have to walk all the way
to the car."
He nods slowly, the action
causing his antennae to wobble.
With a gentle push from the
nurse, the wheelchair begins
to move, and Plankton looks
like a lost child in an
unfamiliar playground. His
drool forms a small puddle in
his lap, and Karen graciously
hands him another napkin.
The corridor outside the
recovery room is a blur of
white walls and sterile
equipment, but the warmth
of Karen's hand on his shoulder
keeps him anchored.
"Whath's...thath?" he asks again,
his gaze fixed on the ceiling
lights as they pass above him.
They look like stars, twinkling
in an alien sky. Karen smiles
patiently, pointing out each one.
"They're just lights, Plankton.
We're in the hallway now."
His eye follows the nurse's
hand as she opens the door to
the waiting area.
She can see the fear
and confusion in his gaze,
but she knows it's just the drugs.
A young couple with a toddler
looks over as they pass by. The
little girl giggles, pointing at
his mouth. "Mommy, why is
he drooling?" she asks
innocently. The mother blushes
and pulls her daughter away,
muttering an apology to Karen.
Plankton's cheeks redden, and
he tries to wipe his mouth
discreetly with the back of his hand.
"It's ok," Karen whispers,
her voice a gentle breeze.
"You're just a little out of it."
He nods, his gaze still
mesmerized by the lights. "Whath's
thath?" he asks again, pointing
at a framed poster on the wall.
Karen leans in to look. "It's a
picture of a happy family,"
she says, her voice a balm to
his confusion. His antennae
twitch, and he nods again, the
motion setting off a fresh wave
of drool.
The nurse wheels him out
to the car, and Karen helps him
into the passenger seat, his
body moving like a ragdoll.
"Buckle up, Plankton," she says,
and he fumbles with the seatbelt,
his hands slipping over the
buckle. She fastens it for him,
his cheek pressed against
the cool leather. "Whewe's
we going?" he slurs, his voice
laced with sleep. "Home," she
says. His mouth hangs open slightly,
a string of drool connecting
his bottom lip to his chin.
"Whath's happening?" he mumbles,
his head lolling to the side.
"You're ok, honey. We're
just driving home." She keeps
her voice low, hoping to keep
the outside world at bay.
The car jolts over a bump,
and Plankton's eye snaps open.
"Ow," he whines, his hand
flying to his mouth. The
cotton has shifted, and
the pain is sharp. Karen
quickly reaches over and
readjusts it, her touch gentle.
"You're ok," she whispers.
"Whath's this?" he slurs, his hand
fumbling with the seatbelt.
"It's keeping you safe,"
she says, her voice steady
and calm. "Just hold on, ok?"
He nods, his eyelid drooping
almost immediately.
"Whath's...whath's..." he
mumbles before falling
asleep. Then his head
nods forward, jerking back
up as he started to doze
off. He wakes with a snort, the
cotton still lodged in his
mouth. Karen laughs softly,
reaching over to remove
it. "Almost there, sweetie,"
she says. His eye is
glassy, and he nods, his
head lolling again.
The car hits another
bump, and his eye flies open
again, wide with panic. "Whe...
whath...whath's happening?"
he asks, his voice high
pitched.
"It's ok," Karen repeats,
keeping her tone calm and
soothing. "We're just driving
home. Try to relax."
Plankton's eye closes,
and for a brief moment,
the car is silent except
for the purr of the engine.
But then he's jolted
awake again, his head
snapping back with a start.
"Whewe awe we?" he asks,
his voice slurred.
"Almost home, sweetie,"
Karen says, her voice steady.
He nods, his head falling
back onto the headrest.
The car's movement rocks him
like a cradle, and his eye
closes with a snore.
But the jostle of a turn
wakes him up with a
start. "Whath's happening?"
he mumbles, his eye
unfocused. The world
outside the window is a
blur of colors and shapes.
Karen smiles, taking his
hand in hers. "Just a turn.
We're almost there."
Another snore escapes
his throat, and his head
lolls to the side again. Karen
gently shakes him awake.
"We're home," she says, her
voice a beacon in the fog.
He blinks, his vision
swimming with sleep.
"Whe...whe...whath's that?"
he asks, his voice barely
a murmur as the car
slows to a stop. "Whe...whath's
going on?" he asks again.
His eye is heavy, and
his words are a jumble.
With a sigh, she unbuckles
his seatbelt and helps
him out of the car, his legs
still wobbly. The cool breeze slaps
his face, and he winces.
"Home," he murmurs, his eye
half-closed.
Karen guides him to the
front door, his steps
labored. The house is
quiet, save for the distant
hum of the refrigerator.
Inside, she helps him to the
couch, where he flops down
like a ragdoll, his body
heavy with exhaustion.
"Whe...whe...whath's that?"
he asks again, his head
lolling to the side.
Karen chuckles softly. "It's
our living room, Plankton,"
she says, placing a pillow
under his head, but Plankton
barely registers.
"Whath's that?" he asks again,
his gaze wandering to the TV.
It's off, but in his drug-induced
haze, it's a source of fascination.
Karen sits down beside him,
his body a dead weight against
the couch cushions. She takes
his hand in hers, her thumb
tracing circles on his palm.
"It's just the TV, honey. You
don't need to worry about it."
He nods, his head still
lolling to the side. "Whe...whath
awe we washing?" His question
hangs in the air, and she laughs
softly. "We're not watching
anything. It's off."
The TV seems to beckon
to him, and he tries to
sit up, his body protesting.
"Whe...whath's on?" he
slurs, his antennae waving
sluggishly.
"It's not on, Plankton,"
Karen says, her voice a warm
embrace. "Why don't you
just rest?" She tucks the
throw blanket around his
shoulders and reclines the
sofa. His eyelid flickers,
the struggle between
sleep and curiosity evident.
The room starts to spin,
and Plankton's antennae
wave erratically. "I'm...
so tiwed," he mumbles, his
words a gentle protest.
Karen nods, her smile
understood. "Sleep, sweetie.
I'll be here when you wake up."
He nods, his eyelid fluttering
closed, and his breathing
becomes deep and rhythmic.
Karen watches him for a moment,
his chest rising and falling with
the comfort of a sleeping
babe's. Then she gently
slides the blanket over him,
his snores the only sound
piercing the quiet.
The room dims as the
afternoon sun moves behind
the curtains, casting a soft
glow across the living
room. Plankton's hand, still
clutching Karen's, slips to
the floor with a thump, and
his snores grow louder. Karen
chuckles, reaching for it
to place it gently on his chest.
His breathing is slow and
even, his chest rising and
falling beneath the blanket.
Karen sits for a moment,
watching him sleep, her mind
racing with all the things
she needs to do: prepare
his meals, make sure he takes
his medicine on time, keep
an eye on his swelling. But
for now, she's content to
just sit and watch him,
his features relaxed and
peaceful in slumber.