239 - knight bee

winging back in a smooth, mechanized fashion, the wrought iron gate no longer obstructed Catherine's vehicle. She rolled her window up, not needing to speak to the little intercom box like she was in a drive-thru anymore.

Her jeep crawled forward, past the gate and now within the dull-red brick walls that demarcated the boundaries of this facility. The gravel made a soothing crunching sound as her tires rolled their way up the path, which meandered through a finely-manicured lawn and garden.

The gravel trail led Catherine to a parking lot next to the building. The lot, also made of gravel, lacked any sort of lines or markers that subdivided the area into individual spaces. In such a situation, she would usually follow the lead of how others had parked.

The problem for her was that there were so few other cars in the lot. She could not discern any sort of system of order. The others were spread far apart and in differing directions. Rather than feel freedom to park however and wherever she pleased, Catherine gripped the wheel with anxiety. Anarchy reigned, but she wished to play no part in it.

Eventually, her jeep came to a stop in the corner of the lot, closest to the building. Such a spot seemed the most logical, but the fact that it was previously unoccupied left Catherine second-guessing her choice.

She tried to remind herself that more important matters were at hand, but as she closed and locked the door, she couldn't help but imagine everyone else here criticizing the odd placement of her vehicle.

The building she was approaching seemed to be more of an old manor than a medical facility, and she guessed that perhaps it indeed once was a home to some rich family. Free from the confines of her jeep, the quietness here immediately struck her. When she reached the concrete sidewalk, she was glad to leave the crunchy gravel behind. Each noisy step had been a violation of a rule which she innately sensed.

Catherine swung the large wooden front door open, noting its thickness and weight. Inside, she found an empty waiting room of sorts. There was no reception desk, no magazines, nothing but a few houseplants and some chairs.

Before she had settled the debate in her mind as to whether or not she should sit down, a woman appeared from behind a corner. She was dressed completely in white, though her clothing was casual enough that it defied strict categorization as a uniform—doctor's, nurse's, or otherwise.

The woman approached Catherine and with a gentle voice asked, "Miss Peccadillo?" Catherine nodded a yes, and the woman smiled. "So nice to meet you. We spoke earlier on the phone. I'm Doctor Raffy."

Doctor Raffy's voice was not quite meek, but it complimented the quietness of this place. Catherine feared opening her own mouth and shattering their surroundings. Fortunately, the doctor spoke again before things got awkward.

"I know you're here to see your father," she said. "But he's taking a nap right now. I actually just came from checking on him. We find with patients in his condition, it's best not to forcefully awaken them unless it's absolutely necessary. So, how about I give you a tour of the facility while we wait for him to wake up?"

Catherine summoned enough courage to speak, though she consciously lowered the volume of her voice to about a quarter of what it would usually be. "Sure, that sounds nice."

"Right this way, then," Doctor Raffy said, outstretching her arm towards one of the hallways. Catherine followed the doctor, wondering if she would ever see her awkwardly-parked jeep again.