Dream Me Off My Feet (Sex, Love, And Rock & Roll)

by Kisner, Stevie

  His gut was churning and his hands restlessly twisted their load as he drew closer to the final bend in the hallway before Mark’s room. He craved a quick smoke to soothe his frazzled ends but he didn’t dare duck outside to have one. That’d mean leaving Kori alone for too long and it wouldn’t be fair. Although part of him did hope that if she sat there undisturbed long enough that she just might doze off. And she needed the sleep as desperately as she needed the meager meal he was bringing.

  JT turned the final corner and stopped, out of view of the long slot window in the door. Well, JT, it’s time to walk your talk. Gather up whatever strength you have to give because Kori’s got none left. She needs you to look out for her.

  Pasting on what he hoped was a reassuring expression, he walked to the door and went inside.

  She’d lost count again, but this time it wasn’t due to drowsing. JT’s entrance broke the relative stillness in the room and made her forget whether the last monitor on-and-off click was number sixteen or twenty-six.

  She hadn’t wanted to be alone with her self-pity when JT stepped out, so to keep her brain occupied she’d begun counting the times the various machinery that logged the ebb and flow of Mark’s life judged enough of an aberration to trigger an alarm.

  Kori was muscle-crampingly aware that her body needed a little trip to dreamland. JT’s presence and attention had her feeling vaguely more secure, the tightly-tucked blanket was warm, and she was a strung-out shipwreck. There were occasional minute-long stretches between alarm clicks, and she dozed off every time one came along. The tiny ticking sound as the diodes switched into The Uh-Oh Zone speared her brain and stopped the drifting. She lost track of the last tick-count every time, so she started all over again with the one that woke her up.

  Kori swiveled her head toward the door; the rest of her was bound in the thermal straightjacket and wouldn’t be budged.

  “You’re still awake,” JT remarked, walking slowly as his eyes adjusted to the dimness.

  “I told you I would be. So what kind of crapfare did you find in the vending machines?” She shrugged, trying unsuccessfully to wriggle an arm free.

  “I brought you a bachelor’s breakfast, minus the coffee.”

  “I hate to think what that might be.”

  “It’s not too awful.” He held up his hands. “Strawberry Poptarts and orange juice.”

  Twenty-Six

  The rising sun brightened the vertical blinds set into the long window, splaying feeble cross-shadows of the myriad equipment clustered around the bed. JT slid further down in the uncomfortable chair and stretched out his legs, casting yet another glance toward the woman who held his hand. She was still awake, but barely.

  His movement had pulled her from her near-doze. She turned heavy-lidded eyes to him and said quietly, “I never said thank you.”

  “For what, love?” JT flexed his feet and wished for the umpteenth time that he’d remembered the socks. The seams of his shoes were beginning to chafe and the insoles had turned to flypaper.

  “For coming here so quickly and not forcing me to leave. For risking getting kicked out to bring me a blanket and pillow. For dragging in a chair for my feet, for bringing one in for yourself and for staying with me.” She squeezed his hand tightly, then let it go altogether. “For looking after me.”

  He angled his head and looked at her strangely. “There’s no need to thank me for that, sweetheart. I’d do anything for you.”

  “You may not need to hear it, but I need to say it. I don’t dare take anything for granted anymore.” ‘Cause you never know… poof and it’s gone.

  “I heard that. And I’m not going anywhere, Kori.”

  She hesitated before replying, stalling with a yawn and a sigh. “Actually, I kinda hoped you would go.”

  JT’s eyebrows flashed up into his hairline. “Why?”

  “I didn’t mean that I wanted you gone. I’m tired and I know I’m not making a whole lot of sense. I hoped you would get Zach and bring him here, now that it’s a more decent hour for him to be awake.”

  “Oh.” JT pushed his long frame back up in the seat. “Sure. Did you want me to go right now? It’s awfully early.”

  “You know how you knew what I was thinking a minute ago?”

  “Uh-huh.” She seemed suddenly shy and JT wondered where this was leading.

  “Well, I’d really love to duck outside for a cigarette. Would you, um…” Damn! Why is it so hard for me to ask him to do this?

  “You’re beyond tired and you’re worried, that’s what,” JT answered aloud, still mainlining her thoughts. “Go have your smoke, Kori. I’ll be right here until you come back, and I promise to keep an open mind, so to speak. If anything changes, you’ll know about it the instant it happens and can high-tail it back inside. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Her response was more of a sigh than an articulated word. She pushed the extra chair away from her feet and stood up for the first time in hours. “Ugh,” she groaned, stretching out the stiffness in her spine. “I feel like an old woman.”

  JT’s eyes locked on hers. You don’t look like one, love. But even when you’re old and gray, you’ll still be the most stunning female in the world.

  She slowly shook her head. “Don’t you ever turn off the charm?”

  Smiling slyly, JT replied, “Just testing the connection, sweetheart.”

  “Then I guess it’s up and running. Thanks for being my eyes here, JT. I should only be gone a few minutes.”

  “Just go already, willya?”

  “All right, I’m going, but —”

  “Go.”

  She grabbed her purse from the nightstand and walked to the door without glancing back, afraid she’d change her mind and stay if she did.

  She’d returned after a scant ten minutes; true to his word, JT had watched and listened and she’d received it all, a remote satellite undercurrent running in the back of her mind. He’d also somehow managed to tone down the constant babble in his head. She’d only picked up a taste of some other image here and there, a word or two of a stray thought, before he’d clamped down tight and shut it out. She had a random thought that he was getting altogether too comfortable with invading her brain, then shivered and grabbed up her purse..

  JT bundled her up again, tsk-ing at her icy fingers and her cherry-red nose. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have told him where to stick his chastising. This time she tolerated it without complaint. It was nice to be taken care of for a change.

  JT checked the tucking of the blanket behind her ribs. He’d left her arms free this time and wanted to be sure the covers wouldn’t slide down and leave her chilled if she should happen to drift off.

  “Are you sure it’s not too early? Maybe Zach ought to get as much sleep as he can since it looks to be a long day for him.”

  Kori wriggled her shoulders to loosen the supertight blanket. “No, he’s usually up with the sun. And if…” Quit being delicate and tiptoeing around the word, even in your own head, Kori! “If Mark dies and Zach’s not here, but he could have been, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  JT squatted next to her makeshift recliner and sandwiched one of her hands between both of his. “I’m sure he wouldn’t hold it against you, Kori.”

  “No, probably not. He’s a pretty amazing kid. What he comprehends about people and life astounds me sometimes. Most likely he’d understand and be completely forgiving,” she said softly. “But I wouldn’t. I have to give him the opportunity to be here, to say goodbye in his own way.”

  And so JT left her there to wait. She was bleary-eyed and warming and he sincerely hoped she’d catch a nap. He was also certain that she’d fight off sleep with every last bit of energy now that he wasn’t there to stop it.

  Stu had reserved a full-sized rental, and though it was a wretched automatic transmission, JT had no complaints about the extra leg room. This entire trip to Albuquerque was nerve-wracking, and he was grateful for anything that dulled the edges.

 
He’d already passed through several traffic lights, glancing occasionally down at the directions he’d scrawled and stuck into the pocket of his jacket. He thought it rather odd that Kori hadn’t asked if he needed any, nor had she offered them. She’d seemed to take it as a given that he’d know where he was going.

  She’s got an excellent neighbor in that Miriam. When I called Kori’s cell and went directly to voicemail, I knew she had it turned off. But I’d thought it was because she was at home. Good thing the neighbor who is staying with Zach couldn’t see the expression on my face when she answered the landline. I’m sure I looked surprised enough to give us both a stroke, hearing an ancient froggy voice on the other end. Made me wonder what on earth had happened to Kori for her to sound like that. God, I’m such a single-minded dolt sometimes, I swear…

  Miriam had explained that she was staying in the house with Zach, as Kori was still at the hospital. She’d added that Kori’s cell phone was required to be off whenever she was in Mark’s room because of the open oxygen feed. She didn’t completely understand the reasons, as she’d never used a cellular telephone, but it had something to do with cell phones generating static and sparks. Miriam also told him that if the little phones made sparks, she’d by-God never use one, either. She had no intention of letting a telephone call set her hair on fire. By the time she gave him directions to the hospital, and from the hospital to Kori’s home (just in case Kori wound up leaving before JT got there, she’d said), JT was beginning to warm to the elderly woman’s hoarse sound, finding the faint remains of her southern lilt soothing his stress. It was no wonder Kori asked her to stay with her son.

  The latest left turn brought him into an area he recognized from his holiday stay just two weeks ago. He swore softly while he pondered how so much could have happened in such a short time. JT made the final turn and slowed to look for her white house with the sunshine-yellow trim.

  The stout woman with the frizzled perm who answered the door when he knocked was not what he’d pictured from her voice. Her face was kind, as he’d expected, but underneath was a deep-seated cheerfulness and her pale hazel eyes sparkled with vitality. She looked like she’d been awake to greet the day and smiling when she did it.

  Politeness and the earliness of the hour forced him to ask if he’d woken her, although it was obvious he hadn’t. “Oh, no, dear boy,” she exclaimed. “I’m ancient, and we old farts are always up before the roosters.”

  JT answered with a chuckle he didn’t really feel. “I’m JT Blackwood, ma’am,” he said formally, extending his hand.

  She clasped it in both of hers. “I recognized your voice. It’s very distinctive. I’m Miriam Davies, neighborhood grandmother and all-around busybody.” She squeezed his hand, surprising him with the strength in her grip. He looked down before she let go and he understood why she took his hand the way she did. Her knuckles were knotted with an arthritis so severe it leaned all her fingers to the side.

  “Would you like me to wake Zach? I’m assuming that’s why you’re here alone. To fetch him to his father’s bedside before he finally gives in and lets go.”

  JT peeked down the hallway toward Zach’s open door. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be the one to wake him up.”

  “Oh, now why would I mind that? Another friendly face would do him some good right now. Especially yours. He talked a great deal about you last night. And before you ask, he had only good things to say.”

  JT was already walking toward the bedroom. He turned his head, tossing back in a stage whisper, “Thanks. That’s good to know.”

  He stepped lightly to Zach’s bedside and sat on the edge. Leaning down to smooth a hand over the peach-fuzzed cheek, he softly called his name. “Zach. It’s time to wake up, little one.”

  Zach opened his eyes slowly, focusing on the face above him; his peaceful features fell when he realized who it was. “My dad’s gone, JT,” he said simply.

  “I don’t think so, not yet anyway. Your mum would have called us here if that had happened, don’t you think?” JT replied gently.

  “She doesn’t know yet. Well, actually she does, but she doesn’t know that she knows.” Zach sat up in the bed and yawned. “He’s not coming back,” he added.

  JT wasn’t sure just how honest he should be with the tender little heart so clearly on display in front of him. “Now, mate, he was still alive when I left the hospital a little while ago.”

  “That was just his body. I’m talking about my dad. His body’s only the house for who he really is, and he doesn’t live in it anymore.”

  Zach let his eyes go unfocused for a moment. “It’s okay, JT. He came to me while I was sleeping and told me that, and helped me to understand so I won’t be sad.”

  JT nodded his head, his own understanding blooming. The child’s defense mechanism against the hurt was locking into place. Well, if it brings him comfort, there’s no harm in letting him believe his dream was actually some sort of spiritual visit from his father. ‘Cause it’s simply not possible that he inherited his mother’s gift for seeing things. He went to Zach’s dresser and rummaged through the drawers for something warm and comfortable for the long day ahead.

  “My mom tried to reach him last night, but he said that she can’t go that far and then be able to come back. She’s not strong enough. He said nobody is, so she shouldn’t feel bad.” Zach swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared hard at JT’s back.

  JT turned around with neon blue sweatpants and the matching shirt in his hands. “Will these do? You need to be comfortable, and I thought the bright color might cheer your mum up a bit.”

  Zach smiled. “Sure. Those are my favorite ones.”

  JT tilted his head and looked at Zach oddly for a moment, then shook his head and laid the clothes on the bed. “I hate to rush you, but your mum’s expecting us to get there as soon as we can.”

  “It’s okay.” He pulled the pants over his feet. “My dad said if she’d only go to sleep, he could talk to her, too. But she’s too stubborn and she’ll stay awake until his body stops living. He said he was going to put an end to that today so that she gets some rest. She’s letting herself get too weak and he wants to make her stop punishing herself. He said this was how it was all meant to be, he sees that now, and she should just accept it.” He stopped talking while he yanked up the pants and tied a bow in the waistband string.

  A little odd, what he’s saying, but sometimes understanding comes easier in a dream. JT shrugged it off and looked around the messy floor for Zach‘s shoes.

  “He also wanted me to tell her that he loves her and that he always will. He said love lives forever because a person’s heart isn’t a physical thing. It really lives in the soul so it doesn’t get left behind.” Zach paused again to tug the shirt over his head.

  Such thoughts for one so young. He really is remarkable. But to speak so matter-of-factly, like he’s just talking about the weather… I’m sure it’s just shock and a delayed reaction. But when it finally sinks in, I’ll be there for you in whatever capacity you’ll have me, little man. JT turned back to the dresser to find some socks, still marveling at what the boy’s mind was producing to help him cope.

  “He told me you were coming here to get me, too, and he said he’d try to wait until you could get back to my mom, but it was getting really hard to hold on.” Zach pushed his arms through the sleeves, then continued. “He also wanted me to tell you something. He said to not forget what you talked about on New Year’s Eve, and don’t wait too long to give her the letter.”

  JT spun around, the tube socks in his hand forgotten, and gawked at the open, smooth-skinned face still sporting sleep-mussed hair. “He said what?”

  Zach spoke more deliberately. “He said to not forget the letter that you put in your carryon bag for safekeeping, and to give it to my mom soon. Since he can’t talk to her like he did to me, she needs to know what he wanted to tell her but couldn’t when his body still worked right. He also said his socks are in h
is top drawer and you should take a pair ‘cause it’s too cold out to not be wearing any.”

  Before his brain could fully wrap around the truth that Zach had experienced far more than a dream, a panicked urgency shrilled into his head, obliterating all his thoughts.

  He’s… Oh, God, JT… He keeps forgetting to breathe! I’m losing him. Please, if there’s a God, you’ve got to let him hear me…

  Kori hummed softly as she flipped open the section of newspaper and smoothed it flat, nearly covering the small kitchen table. Centering a framed photo on the top sheet, she squinted against the glare as the bright midday sun bounced off the glass. “Whoa. Better not do that again,” she muttered, closing her eyes to clear away the vivid red afterimage.

  Resuming the happy, nameless tune, she walked slowly into the living room, scanning the open boxes scattered across the floor for the one containing other breakables. JT had written fragile on the sides, and if she hadn’t had practice at reading his hasty, sloppy script, she would have sworn it said Erogee, whatever that meant. She hoped neither the movers nor the folks at the shipping dock would be able to make out the word, or they’d be deliberately drop-kicking that particular box all the way to Yorkshire.

  Kori surveyed the room, trying to decide what should be packed to go with them now, what the moving service could take care of and ship along later, and what would stay behind to use when they would come to visit.

  God, this is so bizarre, trying to think of my house as one of his vacation homes. Or rather, one of our vacation homes, she reminded herself. I keep forgetting that next Saturday, everything will be official. She pushed the thought of their forthcoming civil ceremony to the back of her mind. She only had a day and a half left to sort and pack before they were to fly back to England. There’d be time enough to worry about the last straggling details of the private reception once they returned to JT’s house in Doncaster.

  Shouldn’t JT and Zach be back by now? She glanced up at the living room clock in its dusty glass case, swearing softly at how slowly time was passing. The tarnished brass pendulum seemed to pause at the top its swing before arcing slowly to the other side with a loud tick. Well, I know one thing that isn’t going. Antique it may well be, but that clock can just stay here. There’s not likely to be anywhere to hang it at JT’s, and I swear, when did it get so damned loud? And slow? Although it does seem to be keeping perfect time with the rest of the clocks in the house. Maybe it’s just me and my impatience…