34 Seconds

by Stella Samuel

  “I’m shorey, Nnn, I don’t know…” Will said to me. It sounded as if the morphine was kicking in, making him drowsy and slurring his words. I didn’t know what he was trying to say, but I thought he was trying to acknowledge he was aware. Aware, at least, he was falling apart. I felt like he knew me, he knew he had medicines to take, but he wasn’t sure if it was time to actually take them or if I was trying to push them on him too early.

  I put the soda can down and helped him move his legs and feet into place on the bed. I couldn’t believe he let me help him get comfortable. Let me get close to him. I held his drink for him, his straw up to his mouth, then I was able to move his legs from an awkward position where he left them sitting while the rest of his body lay back. I smiled, made a small triumphant sound, and felt a huge sense of gratitude. He had let me in. And he didn’t die. He let me get close to him, even if only for a moment, and we had made it through something that would normally seem so small but felt like climbing Everest. New confidence built in me as I watched Will drift off to sleep. But the overwhelming positivity filling my heart was sucked dry once he was asleep, and I could hear his breathing; rattled, slow, and shallow. I went from feeling like I felt the first night he kissed me, when I could practically feel our hearts beating through the palms of our hands to feeling like I just found out my best friend, my lover, my partner, my future was dying before my eyes.

  After a long while, Rebecca walked in with a paper bag filled with groceries in one hand and a twelve pack of ginger ale in the other. Will was sleeping peacefully, and I was in a ball on the floor in hysterics.

  Rebecca rushed to put the groceries down and ran over to me. On her way, she looked at Will, doing the same thing I did every night when I went into my children’s rooms before I went to bed myself, watching his chest for movement, for breath, for life. After looking at Will, and hearing his breathing more than seeing it, she dropped down to me on the floor and put her arms around me. “Nikki,” she whispered. “Are you okay? What happened? Is Will okay?”

  I realized she didn’t know if I was crying because I failed at caring for him while she was gone or because for the fifty thousandth time it was hitting me, the reality of the situation I was in, the reality of the situation Will was in, and this woman in front of me, comforting me…Will’s wife. The room began to close in on me, and I felt cold.

  “Will is…Will is fine. Oh, shit, Rebecca, I don’t know how to say it. He took his medicine just about fifteen minutes ago. He took them all.” I stopped talking, pulled my arms around my stomach, then sat up and stood up in one move. I had to move, I had to get out of there. “Rebecca, I know I break down at every turn. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m not built for this. Maybe…I think I just need to get out for a little. Are you okay if I get out for a bit?”

  Rebecca stood next to me and tried to comfort me again, but I pushed her away and walked out the front door. Once outside, I fell to my knees, took my phone out of my pocket, and called someone I hadn’t spoken to in more than ten years.

  Kristy was at Will’s house in less than ten minutes. I wasn’t sure where she was living, but it didn’t seem to take her any time to get down the road with speed bumps bigger than the best waves around. Before I had the strength to pull myself up from my knees, Kristy was doing it for me. With strength and control, she had me to my feet and her arms around me in a matter of seconds. She didn’t say a word; she didn’t need to. We had a history that melted years in seconds and one which never required words. After a few moments of not speaking, and with Kristy trying to control my sobs and shaking body, she folded me into her little car and drove me away, taking each speed bump carefully, as if I might break with each bump.

  After several tense minutes, Kristy pulled into a little bar in town. When I was growing up, the bar was a grocery store where I held my first real paying job. Amazingly enough, after years and years, I walked through the same doors expecting to see racks of canned goods and fresh bread, but instead saw smoke hovering two feet above several tall tables, a quiet live band, and a table full of old friends awaiting my arrival. After only two steps into the bar, I was swarmed with people. The sun was still shining outside, but inside the smoke hovered and the lights were off. There were hugs, questions about my children, where my husband was, how long was I staying. For a moment I felt a sense of relief. There were so many people there who loved me and wanted to see me. Kristy headed to the bar and brought back two bottles of Coors Light for herself and me.

  “Aww right, step back, e’eryone. Step. Back.” Kristy always knew how to take hold and control a crowd. It was one quality that made her one heck of a cop. “Now,” she said calmly and quietly with the tiniest bit of condescension, “Nikki Jackson Ford is here. But she’s not here for you.” Kristy paused again. “You. Are here for her. Some ya’ll may not know, but she’s here alone. Without her husband and those cute little kids she has back in that mile high city. She is here to watch someone she loves. That someone she is watching is dying. And she ain’t taking it so well.” She paused again as if she were waiting for all of it to sink in. There were a few oohhhs and ahhhs and some ohs from the small group, but I could tell a few already knew I was in town and exactly why I was in town. A few raised their glasses and someone said, “To Will.” The group repeated the toast and the chatter of the group commenced. One at a time or in groups of two, people came to me to give me a hug or say hello. I felt like I was in a receiving line at a funeral. That brought more tears streaming down my face.

  I found out some people were already hanging out at The Sand Bar before Kristy got my call, but the ones who came out just to see me, Kristy had arranged as soon as she got off the phone with me. With modern technology, she was able to send out a group text and voila, instant company to make me smile or sing sad country songs with. That wouldn’t have happened years ago.

  I spent the next three hours talking about my life at home, my children, which was the easiest thing for me to speak of, and I listened to gossip about everyone I remembered, those I didn’t remember, and some I was pretty sure I’d never even known to begin with.

  At 6:00pm, with the sunlight still shining outside and half the room having a bit too much to drink, I turned to Kristy, a dear old friend who dropped whatever she had on her afternoon agenda and managed to get a group of people together with no notice, and asked her to drive me back to Will.

  “I left without telling Rebecca. You probably don’t know Rebecca; she’s Will’s wife.” Now it was time for Kristy’s head to turn sideways like a pup with a question. I was sure most people in town knew Will had gotten married, but Kristy lived a different life. She lived and worked in town, but stayed out of town to date and stayed out of town gossip. She was pretty high up on the list of people I adored and top of the list of people who never liked Will and never forgave him for breaking my heart. I realized with the gathering she had planned for me, to lift my spirits, I hadn’t had the chance to tell her about Will’s letter, why he asked me to be there, and more importantly, why he broke my heart so badly to begin with. “I left just after he took his last medicines, but I didn’t write anything down. It’s almost time for his next round, and I don’t want Rebecca to be there for those alone.” I started crying again. Kristy pulled me closer and gently wiped a tear before it fell from my cheek.

  “Sure thing, Squirt. Let’s get you back.” She made an announcement to the people still gathered nearby our table about us leaving, instructed everyone to say their goodbyes, thanked them all for coming, then took off to the bar to pay our tab. I hugged again, listening to everyone’s sympathies and struggling to get through many names of people I just couldn’t remember from my early years living in Deltaville.

  Kristy pulled into the circular drive way at Will’s house, got out, and opened my door for me. She took my hand and helped me out of the car and had her arm around my waist pulling me into a deep, meaningful hug before I could even take a breath. She whispered in my ear, “You are not alone. I am h
ere. You have so many people here who love you and care for you. And I’m one of ‘em, Little Shit. I love you more than you’ll ever know. And I’m here for you. Always.” I tried to laugh at her calling me ‘Little Shit.’ It was a nickname she’d had for me since we were in high school. High school was also the first time she’d told me she loved me.

  “I know, Kris. I know. And I can’t thank you enough. You showed up here like magic, no questions, just whisked me away to drink away my sorrows and solve my problems, even if only for a moment, and remind me of how much you care. I can’t thank you enough. Really. Look, I didn’t know half of those people at The Sand Bar this afternoon. I’m sure they don’t know me either, at least not anymore, but it was a good break. I really appreciate you doing that. I have no idea exactly how you did it, but I’ve never really understood how you managed to do most things.”

  I hugged Kristy, turned, and walked away. I knew I’d be seeing her again. I’d either call because I needed a friend, or she’d just show up – because I needed a friend. She’d also know exactly when to do it, too.

  “Anytime, Nikki, anytime, my dear. You call me if you need me. I’ll be here.” I could hear her talking as I walked into the house and gave her a last wave goodbye.

  I hesitated just inside the doorway for several minutes, listening, feeling like an intruder and not wanting to face what was inside. A wave of guilt washed over me. At the first really difficult moment, I ran like an abused puppy dog, leaving Rebecca alone with Will.

  I tiptoed inside, pausing every few steps to listen for talking, breathing, or crying, expecting all of those sounds to come from various places in the house. I heard nothing.

  Nothing made me worry. As I turned away from the foyer and into the living room where Will was now living in his hospital bed, I did hear breathing. Short, shallow breaths coming from the bed. I looked around in the semi darkness for Rebecca and didn’t see her. Like I did with my children in my own home, I stood in front of Will, watching his chest heave up and down with each slow breath. I could hear his raspy lungs and the work they were doing supplying oxygen to his body, but I had to watch his body working, too.

  “He told me not to wake him up for his medicine,” Rebecca was standing in the hallway. “He’s getting angrier. He just won’t do it. He just won’t take them on time.”

  “You know, I was thinking, Rebecca. This is the last thing he can control. We want him to be comfortable, not in pain. We want this to be easier for him. But it’s what we want. Maybe we need to do what he wants.” I followed her down the hallway. “I don’t want to treat him like a child, but I’ve been reading a lot of parenting books as I’m challenged every day with new things, from my four year old especially. She tends to pick up things from kids at school. Things I never thought she’d do.” I shook my head. I was getting off topic. “Anyway, we’re learning the one thing she really wants is control. We tell her what’s for each meal and tell her to eat it. There were years when I just walked into her room, got some clothes out of her closet, and got her dressed. I give her a bath, tell her when it’s time to get out…anyway, we’ve been giving her choices. I give her two choices each morning of outfits to wear to school and on weekends let her choose on her own. She’s been happier making her own choices. We make sure we give her options we are happy with, but in her little world, she’s in control.” I couldn’t stop the tears from falling from my face. I missed my little Emily and Bella so very much, and the path I was going with my thought sharing session with Rebecca was getting more difficult. But I continued, “Will…Will is running out of time to make those choices for himself. I think…” I had to stop talking to give myself some air and time to calm my heart down. I was on the verge of hysterics again. “I think he needs to make these decisions. On his own. If there’s a time when…when…” Rebecca put her arms around me and cried with me.

  “I see what you’re sayin’, doll. I see. I think you’re right. It’s hard on us to see him hurtin’, but if he wants to sleep, let’s let him sleep. We can give him the damned morphine when he wakes.” We stood there in the hallway for a long moment crying with each other, empathizing with one another, until Rebecca pulled away and said, “Let’s get some rest while he’s sleeping.” I know it’s early still, but isn’t that what ya’ll do when your babies are little? Sleep when they’re sleeping?”

  “Good night, Rebecca. I’ll be in the guest room. If you need anything, please wake me.” I turned to walk away. “Not just if Will needs anything, but if you need anything. To talk, to cry, to just sit and have company. I’m here. Okay?”

  She nodded and walked down to the bedroom down the hall. I watched her turn to what I remember was once an office when Will’s grandfather owned the house. It wasn’t the master bedroom. I wondered for a minute if she couldn’t sleep in the master bedroom without Will. Or maybe she had her own room during these times. It didn’t matter. What mattered was I’d spent my afternoon in a bar and hadn’t called Chris or spoken to my children all day. I was tired. Chris would be awake because he averaged about five hours a night starting around 1am. But I didn’t feel like talking. I just sent him a simple text message telling him it was a rough day, and I loved them all, then I got ready for bed. As I was brushing my teeth, I searched my makeup bag for a sleep aide. It was my only hope for sleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Thanks to modern medicine, I was able to get a few hours of straight sleep. But when I woke I felt off. Something didn’t feel right. I was scared. I grabbed my phone, thinking of the girls, and sent Chris a message. I didn’t want him to worry or think I was crazy for waking scared for no reason, so I just simply wrote, “Give the girls kisses for me. Hope all is well. Love you.”

  Chris replied immediately with, “They love you too. Off to a playdate soon. Syrupy waffle kisses coming your way. From them, not me.” Then a second text from him said, “I’d love to kiss you, too, but not with maple syrup all over my face. That’s all I meant.”

  My family was fine. The girls were okay. And awake. But I still didn’t feel right. I brushed my teeth, pulled my hair up in a ponytail, and walked down the hall towards the room where Rebecca was the night before. I knocked gently, and she opened within seconds. She was dressed just like I was, in pajamas, but comfortable, hair up, awake but not ready to face the day ahead.

  “I hope I didn’t wake you. I just…I feel off,” I said to her. “I don’t know what, but something doesn’t feel right.”

  “Let’s go check on Will. Together. We can do this. I don’t feel anything but worn out, honey, but let’s head out there and hope he’s awake and ready for his medicine. He didn’t wake you at all did he? I slept pretty well, so I figure he slept all night.”

  We walked down the hallway and into the living room. Will’s hospital bed was empty. I knew something wasn’t right. I felt it. Where the hell was Will?

  Rebecca called out, trying to control the worry in her voice. “Will? Will, where are you?” She was walking toward the hallway on the other side of the long ranch style home. That side was always formal dining, parlor, and a work shop for Will’s grandfather. We heard mumbling coming from that side of the house.

  The two of us walked down the hallway like two young girls visiting a haunted house. I realized we were holding on to one another like something was going to jump out at us and make us pee our pants. We were both scared. When we got to the old parlor, the double doors were pulled to but not entirely closed. I spoke this time. “Will. Rebecca and I are here. Are you okay? Do you need anything? What are you doing?” After the third question, I realized I was on the verge of tears and starting to nag by asking question after question without giving him a chance to respond to the previous questions. I peeked through the opening in the doors and could tell there was another room off to the side.

  “Is there another room back there? I don’t remember…” I didn’t finish getting into how well I once knew the house.

  “Yes, hon, there’s a bathroom back there
. He’s used it since he started resting in the living room. It even has a shower. I think he started when, well, I think he just didn’t want to bother me if I was sleeping down in the other end of the house. I’m sure he’s okay. Let’s just go wait for him in the living room.”

  I could hear some more mumbling, only louder than before, but still not very clear. I raised my voice a little louder, knowing he was behind another door which was pulled to but not fully closed. “Will, we’re going to wait in the living room. It’s time for your medicine, so when you’re ready, come on out, and we’ll get it all ready for you.”

  I heard two loud bangs and jumped to open the parlor doors. Before I was able to get in, Rebecca put her hand on my arm and whispered, “Walker.” Will must have thought I was coming in. I don’t know if it was because my voice sounded louder or if Will thought I had entered the parlor already, but he had shuffled his walker around in the bathroom to try to get the door closed. Will was trying to maintain control. And his modesty.

  We turned and walked away down the hall and back into the living room. We sat in the chairs in the living room, neither of us bothering to get up to prepare Will’s medicine I told him we’d have ready once he returned. Neither of us wanted to talk about Will or medicine, so we talked about the wind overnight, the weather, my children, life in Deltaville. We talked about a lot of things and a lot of nothing in ten minutes before we got quiet. The air felt heavy.

  “It’s been a while, where is he?” I asked Rebecca. Rebecca just sat there. I could see fear in her eyes. We had no idea what we had ahead of us. I walked down the newly scary hallway to the parlor door, peeked in, and then opened it up a tad more than I had before.