by Jane Lark
The woman looked at her screen and typed Jake’s name in. She looked up. “Your family will be up in the waiting area. Turn right, take the elevator to the second, then go left through the double doors, it’s along the corridor, follow the signs for ICU, and it’s on the right.”
“You’re going to have to write that down,” I answered. “We’re both in shock.”
She immediately drew a little map on a piece of paper and gave it to me. “There you go. They’ll be a nurse up there to advise you.” She gave Justin a look as he turned away. She was black too, but I still felt like she was judging him, weighing up whether he was part of the gang or not.
I gave her a twisted smile. Not. But surely she could tell. Justin was still wearing his suit jacket, and he was a whole pile of caring. But I hadn’t known he was caring either, not until I’d got close. He could pretend to be what he was not just as good as I could.
Justin had already gone. “Thank you”, I said to the woman, then rushed after him. “Justin!”
I caught up with him after he’d pressed the elevator button. He looked back at me, his eyes full of agony. “I want to go and see him, but another part of me just wants to walk away and not deal with this… It’s my fault.”
I gripped his hand as he watched the lights flashing through the floor numbers showing the elevator’s descent.
“It’s not your fault… You can’t be everywhere at once…”
The elevator doors opened. We walked in and his hand slipped from mine so he could press the button.
He stood against the wall, away from me, resting his head back against the gleaming metal.
I felt for him, I didn’t have any brothers or sisters, I couldn’t be in his shoes, but I could imagine, and I knew what if felt like to lose love.
When the elevator stopped he came to life, moving suddenly. Then he almost ran the route through the warren of corridors, until we saw his brother, Robin.
He was sitting in a plastic chair, in an alcove set back in the corridor with his head in his hands. His white T-shirt was covered in blood. My stomach turned over, bile rising in my throat. Shit.
Robin sat up, and tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Robin. He’s not dead?” Anguish stole Justin’s voice.
Robin shook his head. He didn’t stand up, he looked too shaken. “He’s in surgery. Mom’s taken Dillon to get a drink. What the frick did I do, Justin?”
Justin sat next him and drew him into a harsh hug. “You did nothing. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left it down to you.”
“I’ve asked him about gangs, and he never said a word…” There was a desperate plea in Robin’s eyes. I understood Justin’s relationship with his brothers then, he wasn’t only their big brother–he was like their dad.
“Seriously, it’s not your fault, it’s mine. I should’ve made him swear to me he hadn’t got caught up in anything.”
My hands slipped into my coat pockets. Love hung around them. It was thick in the air. Selfishly, I thought of my parents. They would never be this distressed if anything happened to me…
Robin’s head pressed into Justin’s shoulder as he started crying again. “It’s okay.” Justin laid his hand on his brother’s head. “It’s not your fault.”
I turned as the double doors into the corridor swung open. “Mrs. Preston.” Her skin had a grayish tone, and her eyes were full of pain. Dillon gripped her hand, but even as I noticed it, his hand pulled free.
“Justin!” The kid ran at his big brother as if Justin being here could put this whole mess right. Robin straightened wiping his eyes, as Justin turned to catch Dillon’s charge and pulled him up onto his bent leg. Dillon hugged him.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry,” Justin said in a low voice.
Robin looked at his Mom, guilt burning in his gaze.
I could see she didn’t think he was guilty. This family didn’t judge. My heart reached out. I wanted to hug her, but I’d only met her yesterday.
Dillon’s head was buried in Justin’s shoulder and he was crying as Robin had done.
Justin looked at his Mom, eyes wide and questioning. “How is he?”
“There was so much blood,” Robin whispered.
Justin’s hand slipped over Dillon’s ear, and his Mom said, “Robin!” Then she looked at Justin and shrugged. “They are looking for internal injuries before they stitch him up.”
“He was in the stairwell,” Robin said. “Just left there. He was late and I went looking for him. He was on the landing. Lying in all this blood. Unconscious. He must have called for help… No one… I… Oh shit, Justin…”
Justin looked at his Mom. “How long is he gonna be in surgery?”
“They didn’t say.”
What could Justin do?
But I could help them. I looked at Robin. “Robin, why don’t Dillon and I go out and get you some clean clothes. You don’t want to sit here like that.” He looked at me as if only now he realized he was covered in Jake’s blood. He must have held Jake when he found him. All these brothers were starting to claim pieces of my heart.
“What size are you?” I asked. “Small?”
“Yeah.”
“And jeans?”
“28” long.”
I turned to Justin, his eyes were wide. “Are you okay if I go? I mean, I think it would be good for Dillon too.”
“But on your own?”
“The Mall we passed was only ‘round the corner. I’m not going far, and it’s a busy street, we’ll be okay.”
Justin’s hand had slipped to Dillon’s shoulder. Dillon sat upright staring at me.
“Do you want to come with me, Dillon, maybe we can find a Mackie Ds and get you something to eat, yeah? I bet you didn’t eat dinner did you?” He shook his head. I held out my hand. “Come on then, let’s go get your brother some clean clothes.”
Dillon slipped off Justin’s leg, and his hand came up and gripped mine as I looked at Justin again. Gratitude weighted his gaze.
“Thanks.” He mouthed rather than said.
He needed the time alone with Robin and his Mom, so they could talk without frightening Dillon.
I nodded. “Come on then Dillon.”
~
Shopping with Dillon was fun. The kid was funny. He was hurting, but kids dealt with stuff in different ways to adults, and getting out of the hospital was the best thing for him. He shelved everything for an hour, and was just a kid–a kid who hadn’t looked a nightmare in the face a little while before.
He chose Robin a black shirt, and picked out Robin’s favorite style of Levis. Then when we walked past a sweet shop he happened to see his favorite watermelon sweets. I think my generous plastic card and I were getting taken for a ride, but I didn’t mind, I had the money.
At Mackie Ds, we stopped for cheese burgers, fries and shakes.
Then we were on our way back to the hospital.
Dillon went quiet from the moment we left the mall. He’d been constantly talking the rest of the time, always about his brothers, and mostly about Justin. Though he kept flying back to mentioning Jake, like he kept remembering Jake was in a room nearby being operated on…
When we came through the door into the corridor outside the ICU ward, I saw them all sitting together. His Mom was leaning back looking our way. Justin was leaning back too with his legs splayed. He’d taken his jacket off and loosened the tie, so the knot hung a couple of inches below his collar. He’d released the top button of his shirt too. Beside him, Robin was leaning forward, his fingers gripping either side of his head as his elbows rested on his thighs.
Dillon’s hand slipped from mine. He had the shopping bag, and he ran straight for Robin. “We got you a nice shirt, and Levis…”
Justin’s gaze caught mine and his eyebrows lifted.
I knew they never normally bought Levis. I just smiled.
“Thanks.” Robin half-heartedly took the bag.
I looked at him. “Robin, Dillon probably needs the bathro
om, we had a burger and shake. Why don’t you take him and go change?” I’d worked these brothers out already, there was one thing they all had in common–they looked out for one another. Looking after Dillon would take Robin’s mind off himself.
His head came up, and he looked at me. His eyes full of sorrow and doubt, but I’d touched the right nerve.
“Thanks,” he said again as he stood up. “Come on Dillon.” His hand gripped Dillon’s shoulder and turned him. “Little bro.”
When they walked away, I took the seat next to Justin.
He gripped my hand, like he’d been longing to do it the whole time I’d been gone.
“How is he, do you know?”
“Not yet–”
“Jake is still in surgery,” his mom finished.
That long … That was bad, surely.
“Do you know how it happened?”
~
Do you know how it happened? Portia asked the question Robin, Mom and I, had been throwing around between us for the hour Portia had been gone. How? Why? The only one who knew was Jake, and Jake was in surgery fighting for his life. He couldn’t speak.
I slotted my fingers between Portia’s. “We don’t know anything.”
“Do you think it was those boys we walked through last night?”
A sharp jolt of anger caught in my belly because that was what I had thought. Had they been there, hanging around, to get at Jake? “I don’t know.” I wished I did know.
God, I couldn’t believe how angry I was. I wanted to smash up the hospital when the hospital had done nothing wrong. They were saving his life.
But frick … Jake.
I was still numb. I was living in another universe and looking in through a window at this one. I wasn’t in my head. I gripped Portia’s hand harder. I couldn’t believe she’d taken Dillon away…
Portia…
Self-interested, stuck-up, Portia had helped my mom by looking after my kid brother. I had got the girl wrong. Right now she was my pathway back to sanity.
Shit Jake. What the frick were you doing?
I tipped my head back against the wall and shut my eyes. Lord, I know I don’t pray but if you are up there, I’m praying now, and not for me, for Jake. Save him. He doesn’t deserve this. I let him down. Don’t let him die.
A tear rolled from my right eye. Portia wouldn’t be able to see it. Its path tracked down my cheek. I didn’t wipe it away. My tears would prove to God how much I cared. The Man had to save Jake. What can I give you? I’ll give you anything if you save my brother.
My eyes stayed shut and air pulled into my lungs. I let it out. Come on, Jake, live. Now I started sending my vibes through the air to him, willing him to fight, and live.
“Mrs. Preston?”
My eyes shot open. There was a guy in a green suit standing before us, his hands hung at his sides, and he had a stupid green hat on. Mom nodded.
“Can I have a word?”
Oh shit. Was the guy going to say Jake hadn’t survived?
Mom stood up, and I stood up too, without even thinking.
“This is Jake’s brother,” Mom said.
“Will you come with me?” He held his hand out.
I was still gripping Portia’s, and she’d stood too. “Is it okay if my girlfriend comes?”
“Yes of course, if you wish her to be there.”
I wished her to be there. “Yes.” In answer, Portia pressed close to my shoulder and hugged my arm, offering comfort and reassurance. She didn’t succeed, but I cared more for her for trying.
The guy led us to a tiny room. Inside it there were four low cushioned chairs. He sat on one. Mom sat next to him. I was still gripping Portia’s hand as she sat next to me, and we were all leaning forward, desperate to hear.
“Mrs. Preston, your son survived the surgery, but his spleen has ruptured, so we’ve had to remove it and repair areas of his bowel. The stab wound didn’t damage any other organs but we’re keeping him in ICU until we’re sure he’s okay.”
“ICU?” I echoed, surely that meant things were bad.
“The Intensive Care Unit. Don’t worry, he’s not in any immediate risk, but the next twenty-four hours are crucial, if he survives those, then he should be okay.”
Emotion thrashed around in my chest smashing me up, like I wanted to smash the world up. Jake…
“Can we see him?” Mom asked.
“In a little while. Give him a chance to settle.” The guy took a breath. “Have you thought about how you’ll cover the bills?”
I shut my eyes for an instant. We didn’t have that sort of money. It was going to take us a lifetime to pay this off.
“I’ll sort it,” Portia whispered quietly.
I looked at her, my fingers catching even tighter about hers. “It’s not your responsibility.”
“I know, but I want to, I have the money. I had a trust fund. It paid out when I was twenty-one. I’ve never touched it. I wanted Dad to know I could support myself, but… this… I want to use it. “
I looked at Mom, she would hate the idea.
“Let me, please.” Portia didn’t give her a chance to argue. “Mrs. Preston. It’s nothing to me… Let me help you?” Mom opened her mouth to protest, but Portia carried on. “The money is just sitting in a bank. Let me use it please. It’ll take you years to pay the bills back. I can pay it now and you won’t need to worry … ”
Mom’s eyes looked defeated, she didn’t want to have to say yes, and yet she had to. We didn’t have the money.
“I’d be grateful, Portia. Thank you.”
Oh my God. What the fuck was going on today? Mom looked at Portia with eyes that apologized for saying yes. She’d always hated help. She was a fighter, she did stuff for herself, worked it out, got through it… But now…
I looked at the doctor. “You’ll tell us as soon as we can see him, yeah?”
“As soon as, but you’ll need to be patient a little longer.”
The man stood and said, “If you haven’t got any more questions?”, as if he was really telling us not to have any more ‘cause he needed to get back to work.
“Nope,” I answered.
“No,” Mom echoed.
Portia looked from Mom to me, then up at the doctor.
“Very well then. We’ll keep you informed.” With that, the guy was gone.
Portia stood up. “I’m gonna go down to the reception and sort out the payment.”
I stood too. “Portia, you don’t have to do that…”
“I know, but I want to. I’ll be back soon. Mrs. Preston, you can concentrate on Jake then.”
I turned back to Mom when Portia went out, though really I wanted to go with Portia. “You okay?”
She stood up. I rested my hand on her shoulder and she turned into me, holding me for a moment.
She wasn’t tactile. She was a fighter, not a comforter. This wasn’t usual for her.
I sighed and put both my arms around her for a moment. She didn’t cry. She’d stopped crying when Dad left.
“He’ll be okay,” I said, I wanted to believe it.
She pulled away from me and looked up, the light in her eyes dulled by pain. “Robin, is probably finished changing–he’s gonna be wondering where we are, and Dillon will worry.”
I nodded.
I reached past her and pulled the door open for her so she could walk ahead of me, but in the corridor my gaze reached for Portia. She was gone.
Robin was sitting in a chair in the waiting area, and Dillon was beside him holding out a book he must have got from a toy box somewhere.
Robin stood up. “Where have you been?” He was scared. I set a hand on his shoulder. Mom gave Dillon a hug. “Jake’s out of surgery. He’s okay, but now it’s just wait and see.” I turned. “Mom, I’m going after, Portia.”
She nodded, before focusing on Dillon again. He was holding the book up for her to read.
My pace increased with every step. I wanted to run, and just get out of here. I’d
failed.
As I stood in the elevator, I bashed my head back against the metal about three times, trying to knock out all the emotion tumbling around my head. I didn’t succeed.
Portia stood by the counter, leaning on it, filling in some form when I got down to reception. I leaned on the counter next to her. I wanted to hold her so tight she’d get squished.
She was filling out bank information. “You don’t have to do that, Portia.”
She glanced at me. “I know, but I want to, and that’s the end of that conversation. Don’t upset your Mom.”
She carried on writing. She was right. But having to take money off her was crap. It shifted everything between us.
I sighed as she swirled her signature and handed the form to the woman behind the counter. She read it over, then looked up. “Thank you. It all looks fine.”
“Thanks,” Portia answered before turning to me, her head tipping a little to the side, like she felt my annoyance and didn’t know what to do. But frick, I didn’t know what to do either. My brother was upstairs in ICU, and I was taking thousands of dollars off my girlfriend, who’d only agreed to be my girlfriend yesterday!
But I wanted to kiss her. I just wanted to escape into her.
“Do you want to go back up?” she asked. “Or do you want some fresh air for a minute?”
Air suddenly seemed like gold. “Air.”
She gripped my hand and pulled me. I was unraveling–falling apart. I needed to get outside the door. It was dark, but the darkness was bleached yellow from the streetlights.
She pulled me to one side, and into the shadow thrown by some plant, then she lifted up onto her toes, and pressed a kiss against my jaw, as her arms reached around my neck. I held her too, my arms a tight band, hanging on in a hurricane; and then I cried like a jackass. But it was the fear tied so tight in me slipping out into her. She never lifted her head, didn’t say a word, just held me.
What would I do, if Jake died? How would I deal with it? I clung on, letting emotion wash through me. Anger. Pain. Hurt. Agony.
She could have said, it’ll be okay, like I’d said to Mom, but we didn’t know that. I knew the truth–there were no guarantees. I’d have been angry with her if she’d said it. I just needed her to be silent and hold me, and that was all she did.