Mad About the Boy

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Mad About the Boy Page 8

by Suzan Battah

In and out… In and out.

  “Hold on, Julia. It’s not your time. I’m here with you.” It was as if Carlos was right next to her, his voice was so clear. “Don’t let go. Chris loves you. He needs you by his side. Hold on, Julia. I’m here with you.”

  Reality fractured.

  The loud noise irritated her senses. She moaned in response to questions. Someone kept saying her name, but she just wanted to sleep, to close her eyes. She was unable to form the words to tell them to leave her alone. A loud buzz rang clear in her head, blocking out all sound. Everything went silent for a moment and then burst forth with full volume. Her tongue felt swollen and hairy, a rusty taste making her want to spit or vomit.

  Something was wrapped around her neck, something stiff and immovable. The stale air smelled like burning rubber, filtering through her nostrils. But she could hardly breathe, dried blood and grazed skin blocking oxygen from getting through.

  Hands seemed to be everywhere. All over her body, prodding, making the pain worse. She could feel everything, only ten times worse. She tried to open her eyes, but it was an impossible task. They kept lazily drooping back down. It was as if she had no control of her body.

  Registering a message to her dazed brain to open her mouth was even more difficult. Her face felt fat, swollen to twice its size. Some awful taste kept filling her mouth. It was blood, tart and rusty in her saliva. Warm, thick stickiness dripped down into her eyes, and all she could see was deep red.

  Chris? Am I hurt?

  The thought brought her into a deeper awareness of her surroundings. Finally, her eyes opened and remained open. She blinked, and there were lights flashing, blue and red. Sirens were blaring in the distance, coming closer.

  When she was laid down on the ground, Julia cried out, whimpering as a most unbelievable ache knocked on her temple. Her mouth snapped wide, and she gasped for breath. She tried to sit up, but was restrained with firm, gentle hands.

  What she could see of the scene was horrendous, twisted metal and shattered glass everywhere. There were slivers of windshield and big shards all over the road. A mangled car, bashed up on one side, lay half on the sidewalk. Just beyond the police barrier were people staring with absolute alarm and horror.

  Julia saw worried mothers usher their children back inside their homes. A few of the younger ones were crying, but most just stared. Closer to her was a scene of controlled chaos. Police were taking notes from witnesses, rescue crews were everywhere. Two firemen were packing away the Jaws of Life that had cut open her car to get her out. Another was hosing down the car, preventing any explosions.

  A major blaring buzz rang endlessly in her head. Paramedics were prodding her body, and the slightest shake made her cringe with renewed pain. A rush of air flowed through her lungs as they applied an oxygen mask. Her eyes shut and opened again, the need to fall asleep so strong. She was almost there ready to close her eyes completely.

  As they cut away her top, baring her chest, the paramedics kept up a soothing stream of reassurance. But as they continued to prod her for injuries, they made her feel the pain more.

  Now they were trying to get a verbal response from her. They were moving fingers in front of her eyes, and saying things she couldn’t hear. They even flashed lights in her eyes, so she winced and turned her head a tiny bit.

  “We’ve got a response! Can you hear me, Julia? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me?” That was a clear baritone, the male voice hitting her ears with the force of a drum. This brought her back into reality.

  Now, staring up at the paramedic, Julia could hear what he was saying. She understood what he wanted. Moving a finger in reply, she tried to say something, but only let out a horrific groan.

  Speaking coherently was impossible, so she just mumbled something, she didn’t even know what. The paramedic looked at her, trying to comprehend, but that wasn’t important to him. Transporting her out of there seemed to be his first goal and he signaled to his partner to pick up the other side of the stretcher. She knew they were being gentle, but whenever they moved her, she moaned in excruciating pain. As they put her in the ambulance, they comforted her with quick words of support and then climbed in after her to check all her vital signs.

  Everything else that took place afterwards, Julia could not recall. She passed out soon after communicating to the paramedic. Her body was just too weak to withstand the pain of the transport to the hospital.

  ***

  “I can’t believe this happened!” Andreena wiped her red eyes once more, but the tears kept filling them.

  Amy rubbed her back. Both had been crying for the last hour, trying to be brave for poor Hilda and the rest of Julia’s family, who were devastated by the accident.

  Hilda sat without saying a word. She had been frantic to get to Julia the moment she found out about the accident and the police were quick to escort her to the hospital. But now, all they could do was wait for word from the doctor.

  “Aunt Hilda, would you like some coffee?” Cole asked, his voice soft, throaty with the overwhelming emotion he felt for his aunt at this moment.

  Hilda looked up at Cole and nodded her head. Tears began to slide down her cheeks again. “Please call the girls. Let them know what’s happened.”

  Randy arrived soon after Amy had gone to make the call. He sent a brief message to Chris, advising him of the accident and reassuring him that he’d keep him posted.

  ***

  Later, Chris rushed into the hospital. He was unshaven, eyes bloodshot from the journey and exhaustion.

  “Where is she?” he demanded of Randy. “Where is she?”

  Randy grabbed his arm to stop him from doing something foolish in front of her family. No one knew how much Julia meant to Chris, except for Randy.

  “She’s in surgery.” Randy guided him away from the family. “She’ll be fine.”

  After a moment, Chris sank into a hospital chair, his jaw tense. Nurses and doctors walked through the ER area, but none had any news on Julia’s condition. After an hour in the plastic chair, Chris became irritated. He remained distant from the family, so as not to cause more worry. They were unaware of his presence. His extreme worry made it impossible to sit still, so he paced the corridor outside the emergency room. Then, like a predator, he spotted his prey and pounced. Grabbing a male doctor by the arm, he growled with all the force and impatience he felt, right into the other man’s face.

  “Where is Julia Mendoza? She has been in surgery for hours. Can anyone tell the family anything? For God’s sake, tell us something,” Chris demanded, furious, giving the man a hard shake.

  The unsuspecting doctor, pulled away calmly and guided Chris to a plastic waiting seat again. “Nurse, can you find out about this patient, Julia Mendoza. The family is waiting for news.”

  Chris was frustrated beyond recovery and muttered a few obscenities at the rotund doctor. He knew all this was no one’s fault, but that didn’t keep him from stomping off in a fit of temper. Frantic for news about Julia, he was too agitated to sit around any longer, so he kept walking out of the corridor and out the door. When he came back a few minutes later, there was still no news.

  Chris slumped into a chair and put his head down, trying to breathe. Randy tried to reassure him. “She’ll be all right. She’s going to be okay.”

  But another four and a half hours passed before someone showed up to inform the family of Julia’s progress.

  “Is Mrs. Mendoza here?” a female doctor in surgery scrubs enquired of Andreena. “I’m Doctor Werona.”

  “Hilda,” Andreena choked out brokenly. “The doctor is here. This is Julia’s mother, Doctor.”

  Hilda rose, wringing her hands.

  Turning to Hilda, the young surgeon shook her hand.

  Chris quietly listened. “Mrs. Mendoza, it might be best if we talk in here.” Doctor Werona directed Hilda to step inside a private room, leaving the door open.

  Chris waited with as much patience a man could take to hear the news from Randy.
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  He felt his heart drop. This wasn’t happening to him. He would wake up from this nightmare and Julia would awake. They would chat, laugh, and she’d open her arms to him. He felt lightheaded. He had never felt such a powerful emotion for a woman before. He needed to see her. How was he going to do that? He could hear the doctor’s soothing voice explain Julia’s condition to her mother. The soft hiccup of Hilda’s tears began the moment the doctor spoke.

  “Julia has been in a very serious accident. She is now stable and doing well considering.” The doctor paused, and continued with her analysis of Julia’s situation. “She was hit pretty hard, her knee will need another reconstructive surgery as soon as she is strong enough to go into surgery again. There was a head injury that isn’t as bad as we first thought, there was some swelling to the brain but the neuro surgeon has successfully controlled and released the fluid. Julia will be monitored in intensive care.”

  Hilda turned pale, nearly collapsing. Andreena assisted her, with Cole’s help. She was suffering what all parents dread, watching a child endure pain. The seriousness of Julia’s condition was hitting clear to the heart.

  Chris rubbed his forehead.

  Doctor Werona nodded. “Be prepared that she may not look like what you expect. I can only allow one visitor at a time. I’m being realistic for your sake. Don’t expect too much and be prepared.”

  As soon as Hilda came back from visiting Julia, she started crying. Michael comforted his mother with words of support. She was inconsolable, devastated, and they moved over to the couches to sit and wait. Michael and Hilda remained while the rest of the family began to disperse and head home.

  Seeing Hilda’s reaction, Chris was apprehensive, weak with uncertainty for the first time. He approached the nurse’s station. Doctor Werona was making some notes on her chart.

  “Doctor, I need to see Julia Mendoza.” He didn’t even recognize his own voice when he spoke.

  She ignored him as she continued to make notes. “Are you family?”

  “No, but please, I’ll only be there for a few minutes. I need to see she’s alright. Please, Doctor, please.”

  Hearing his plea, the doctor looked up at him, her eyes softening. “I don’t normally allow this, but I can see how much you care for her. Five minutes and you’re out.”

  His heart was tight in his chest, squeezing his lungs painfully. He followed the nurse down the hall to Julia’s room and entered. He moved further into the small room, taking slow deliberate steps to where she lay in the bed. He felt haunted by the eerie silence, broken only by machines beeping.

  Julia looked so helpless, so pale that she seemed to blend into the starchy white sheets of the hospital bed. With the tight bandage wrapped around her head, no hair peeked through. How he wished to see her hair, to touch the soft strands between his fingers, and smell the sweet flowery scent again.

  Had they cut all her hair off? It was an odd thought, but it kept him from thinking about what the doctor had said about her condition.

  As he got closer, the noise coming from the ventilator seemed to get louder. It was the most horrible sound he had ever heard in his life: her trying to breathe with the help of the machine. It sounded almost as if she were suffocating. Her chest kept moving up and down, heaving with the effort to keep the breath going in and out of her lungs.

  Chris watched the movement for a few minutes. Stiff and unyielding, he clenched and unclenched his fists, shaking his head. When her eyes flickered, just the slightest, he let out a shuddering breath. Relief washed over him in ripples. He fumbled for the chair closest to her and sat down. Carefully, he reached for her hand. It was cold.

  Be strong, he told himself. She needs you.

  The skin around her eyes was already a deep purple, so still and lifeless. The bandage covering her head was so thick, he imagined the worst.

  Did her head split open? What the hell happened!

  Chris pressed closer, leaning forward, his lips pressing a tender kiss on her hand.

  He whispered, desperate for her to hear his plea. “Open those beautiful eyes. Look at me. Open your eyes. Talk to me. I need to hear your voice.”

  But she didn’t, couldn’t respond.

  Chapter Eight

  A week later, Julia’s recovery was slow as to be expected. The ventilator was removed allowing her body to try and support her recovery. She came in and out of consciousness over the next few days. Surprisingly she would respond to stimuli and open her eyes. A night-shift nurse was checking Julia’s vital signs when the movement roused Julia and she began to wake.

  Her eyes fluttered open and she moaned. For a second, the pain sent her drifting back into the blackness. Then a light flashed sharply in front of her, making her blanch and shrink back.

  “Chri--” she swallowed, her voice hoarse. “Christophe.”

  The nurse smiled down at her. “How are you doing, sweetie?”

  Julia ignored her, shaking her head feebly. She just kept whispering, “Chris… Chris?”

  ***

  A couple of weeks had passed since the accident. Remarkably, Julia was slowly pulling through the most difficult time. Her body was beginning to move with more ease. She fought hard to keep getting through. Therapy for her mangled knee was excruciating and painful. It felt as if the Doctors weren’t even going to let her rest before throwing her into rehabilitation.

  “Chris is coming to see you later.” Andreena sat in the large armchair next to Julia’s hospital bed, placing a pile of brand new women’s magazines on the small table next to her.

  Andreena pulled the table closer and set up a game of poker, though neither knew how to play. They decided that improvising and making up the rules of the game as they went along would be more fun.

  “He’s been so worried. I think he really likes you. He’s put everything on pause at the Augustine.”

  “What?... No, I didn’t… know that,” Julia cleared her croaky voice, having difficulty speaking.

  She had been medicated with painkillers that in her view weren’t working. They were reducing her dosage as she improved and Julia was not happy. Understandably being in the hospital had made her moody and irritable. She wanted to go home and rest in her own bed. She had even suggested going home and everyone had looked at her like she had grown two heads. Now the Augustine was on hold, her reputation is on the line with the contract being completed on schedule.

  “We can’t stop work…finished, we….” She ended with a shake of her head, unable to continue, she took a deep breath before starting again. “Lose… money.”

  Andreena gave her an odd look. “He doesn’t care about that. He’s really worried about you, honey! You’d think there’s something going on between you two.”

  “No,” she grumbled.

  “You’re so stubborn.” Her friend shook her head with a frown. “And let me point out, sweetie, he’s head over heels for you. He won’t be going anywhere, anytime soon.”

  The catering lady came in with a tray full of food. Julia acknowledged the woman with a brief nod, but then ignored the food, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” Andreena asked, indicating the food tray.

  Julia squinted, pressing her lips together in distaste. She placed three cards down in the pile and picked up another four with slow, painful movements. The doctors were giving her less medication now that she was beginning to show improvement. The pain was constant in her body.

  “You need to eat.” Andreena sat up straight. “So you can build up your strength. You want to get out of here, don’t you?”

  Julia was about to open her mouth to argue, but then Chris walked into the room. The cards in her hand fell across her lap loosely.

  Chris smiled tentatively at her, holding out a huge bunch of red roses. Dressed casually in jeans and a fifties-style shirt, he looked divine as always. When he leaned down to kiss her cheek, skimming a finger gently down her bruised face, she wanted to cry. She remembered the last time t
hey saw each other, how she had pushed him away. He was being so tender. She couldn’t believe he was actually in the room, standing next to her, smiling and smelling fresh and masculine.

  She wanted to reach out and touch him as he placed his flowers right next to her, moving the balloons and plush toys aside. As he arranged the roses, he turned the vase slightly towards her, pulling out the card and placing it in the drawer next to her. Chris’ relief was evident in his face. His eyes always expressed his emotions in every way.

  Andreena smiled encouragingly and made a quick departure. Just before closing the door, she confessed, “She’s not eating.”

  Chris’ gaze immediately rested on Julia. Tilting his head, he gave her a stern look. “Why aren’t you eating?” he asked seriously.

  Julia found it difficult to respond, as the words stuck in her throat. She followed his every movement, still unable to believe he was in the room with her. She lifted her hand to touch his sleeve. His green eyes connected with hers, making her feel warm, safe, and secure once again. He automatically caressed her fingertips.

  “Would you like me to get my chef friend Pierre to make you a delicious quail?” He laughed low at the look of horror on her face. Turning serious again, his brow furrowed. “I was just joking. I know you don’t like quail. What can I get you to eat?”

  “I’m… not hungry,” she answered throatily, lying back against the pillows. “The Augustine?”

  “You have to eat, Julia.” He ignored her question. “How are you going to get your strength up?”

  “I don’t…want to… eat,” she insisted stubbornly, turning away to look out the window. “What’s going on with the Augustine?”

  She had been moved from the gloomy room in intensive care to a private wing of the hospital. The window looked out onto a grassy bank surrounded with flowers and trees. The sun shone brightly outside. The scene was so idyllic that Julia longed to be able to get up and move outside. She longed to dance in Chris’ arms and that made her angry that she couldn’t.

 

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