Merrily In Tragedy: Book One (Merrily We Live 1)

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Merrily In Tragedy: Book One (Merrily We Live 1) Page 8

by Emalea Dickerson


  I shifted my weight trying to adjust myself into some semblance of comfort. I was not feeling in any particular destress. Despite awaking in a strange place I was calm. I could not shift to my side and struggled weakly realizing that it was not simply the weight of the bedding which held me secure.

  I attempted to bring my hands to my face to remove what felt like sand covering my skin. Unable to lift my arms, I focused on my forearms, and realized I was tied down to a bed flat on my back. It looked like medical restraints straight out of a psych ward held me in place. It didn’t even bother me to see them softly holding me down.

  This was not the first time I had been restrained in order to care for my injuries. My arms were purple with old and new needle marks. There was a spectacular collection of bruises and abrasions over all that I could see. I also noted in a detached way that I was naked.

  I was alive…and I was pretty sure I was okay with that. I ran my eyes along the multiple IV’s to the drip bags hanging above me attached to the beds canopy. The IV’s gave me the explanation that my mind could not quiet reach. I must have been heavily medicated for a long time.

  I’d awoken before in such a circumstance. Despite my misgivings I simply detached myself from any potentially immediate problems. Above all else I was an expert at compartmentalization…I was also just a smidgen…nuts. I was okay with that too.

  I focused on the moment in order to approach the situation one step at a time. Panicking would only cost me in recovery time. I had no desire to be sedated into oblivion. Given the surroundings I found myself in…I didn’t think tranquilizing me would go against the grain. They didn’t take me to a hospital. That alone was reason enough to be grateful…I wouldn’t survive another hospital.

  I could tell that I had been checked out from reality for a substantial while. There was a persistent itch in my skin that told me that I had been unconscious for much longer than a day or two. I didn’t feel much of anything unless I really focused. It was difficult to grasp the damage I’d taken. The medication was making me nice and fuzzy.

  Taking an internal inventory told me that I had stitches in several places. I could feel the stitches creeping along my skin at the slightest movement. Stitches always felt like that…I had plenty of experience being sewed up… I knew a few more scars weren’t going to kill me. I had grown accustomed to living…I planned on continuing to do so.

  I very slowly looked around the room. I could feel a pull along my neck that felt like more stitches. I had deeper numb wounds all around the top of my shoulders. I didn’t strain to take a look but I had enough experience to know how deep these were. The tops of my shoulders were spotted like a cheetah.

  I would have some interesting scars. There were staples holding my sternum together. It looks as if I had major surgery. That I had been almost as badly hurt as I had before. The first time I was attacked…set a standard that I used to stay sane. This healing was months along. I knew I hadn’t been out for that long.

  If it wasn’t as bad as before I was going to live. If it wasn’t as bad as before…it isn’t the worst thing that has happened. It was an unhealthy attitude. I knew that…but…I had no desire to reopen closed wounds…Story of my Life.

  The room was tiled halfway up the wall in a cool pale green. Green paint was above the tile running up high ceilings. It was a restful color offset by heavy oak furniture. The bed I was laying in was a large four post style and looked unbelievably sturdy.

  I had a dark green sheet covering up my body and it had newness stamped upon it. As if it came straight out of a package. There was a folded quilt at the foot of the bed but I did not strain to catch site of any particular part of the room. I simply let my eyes drift where they would.

  A window rested on the east side of the room which brought the majority of light in. I could tell the lights were off. Next to the window is a large rocking chair which contained Isaac. He was asleep his feet stretched out in front of him. His head was tucked down on his chest with his arms crossed.

  Even asleep he looked exhausted…I could hear a faint snore emanate from him…he appeared to be deeply asleep. His hair was greasy and it appeared darker than its usual dusky gray. His clothing was rumpled and hung loosely on him. Isaac looked as if he had been working nonstop for days…and for the first time I saw something familiar in the shape of him.

  Next to Isaac was a TV tray with the plates untouched. It did not surprise me that Isaac was here… I recalled hearing him before I was sucked down into darkness. There were thousands of questions that I could be asking him. I just wasn’t ready to form the words I would need.

  I wasn’t sure if my contemplation of the room or its occupant took minutes or hours. I wasn’t sure if I was experiencing several different events or a single moment. I only knew that because Isaac was here I was safe and could sleep. I don’t know why Isaac always brought me a sense of safety …I was simply grateful for it.

  *

  The unceasing murmurs of voices awakened me from my drifting. I must have made some kind of noise because someone was wiping my face with a cool cloth.

  “Are you with me Lee?” Isaac’s voice was clear.

  His face was barely inches from my own… his green eyes brilliant. I remembered seeing a light with emerald hue in the night. And I simply gazed up at him while trying to gather my thoughts. Isaac looked younger than I had ever seen him look.

  The accustomed wrinkles which bordered his almond shaped eyes were somehow faded. It wasn’t that he simply looked younger than I would expect in a man who was over sixty to look. Isaac appeared as if he was in his mid-fifties… at the latest. I knew his features well. I saw him almost every day for long periods of time. His face was familiar to me in a way which had me weakly pushing at his chest. I tried to dislodge him from his perch above me and briefly shame flashed across his features.

  “Are you with me…Lee?” he asked again. Pulling his-self away from the bedside and sitting in a folding chair within reach of me. His hand reluctantly reached out and patted my arm. “We need to talk…concerning… things” he said.

  Isaac folded his arms under his chest and he looked strong. Much stronger than he did when I had seen him last…asleep and drained. I suppose that he was right… that I had questions… which needed to be addressed.

  I was afraid of both the asking and the answering. I wasn’t sure how ask all that I needed to. So for now… I just focused on Isaac. I made an effort to get sound to escape past my lips but it felt as if I could not shape words. I was so weak.

  “Here” Isaac said placing a spoon at my lips. “Ice chips…just try taking a few of these before you try talking again” I never saw Isaac as a nursemaid and I think I managed a scowl at him because briefly he chortled in an appreciative way. “You must be feeling better if I earned a scowl. Don’t look at me like I made you unload a morning truck after a double shift and just eat the damn ice” Isaac sighed. “Don’t worry I told you that everything is going to be okay and it is…eventually” he said.

  “Wha...” I couldn’t get the whole word out though I tried… instead I simply twirled my index finger and gave Isaac a pointed look.

  “Spill huh” Isaac said taking in my gesture. “We got you away from the Diner and brought you here to get your wounds treated. You were very medicated for about a week. Everything is going to be okay” he said in a very calm voice.

  Isaac left a lot out. I had questions but honestly didn’t want to ask. I wanted to address what was happening in my own time…I wasn’t in a hurry to know why Isaac’s family attacked me. I wasn’t ready to face the many reasons I was brought to this place. I knew there were reasons…probably good ones… if Isaac hadn’t taken me to the hospital.

  I knew that Isaac was in charge. I never saw him as the kind of man to take orders from anyone. It seems that I was okay with that. I didn’t want to examine why too closely.

  “We are at Jacob’s house” Isaac said after some length. “I thought you would be more com
fortable closer to home” he said.

  That got my attention…Jacob lived here…this place was really expensive. Jacob didn’t even own a car. I didn’t know enough about him and now…I never would.

  “Where…” I said hoping for more detail. I didn’t know where I was in relation to my home.

  “Jacob’s house…he lives in the mansion next to your…uh…apartment” Isaac said. He had the grace to look embarrassed.

  The tiny sanctuary I had made my own was owned by Jacob…that was shocking. How did Jacob afford this place? Restaurant managers didn’t earn this much…or busboys. It boggled my mind that someone like Jacob owned the immense property my apartment was on. Jacob didn’t exactly radiate wealth and prosperity…he didn’t even own a car.

  Isaac glanced behind him where presumably someone was standing. I hadn’t noticed anyone else in the room besides Isaac. Craig approached the bed. Not finding another chair he made himself comfortable at the foot slightly jostling me as he sat down. Isaac scowled at him growling slightly in his chest. Craig raised an eyebrow at Isaac and nodded to me in apology.

  An apology was quite the change from the guy who wanted to leave me to die. Small pieces were coming through my fog in my head. I was sure that Craig had said to leave me to bleed out. The thought made my heartbeat race and on the other side of the bed, the machines I was apparently still attached to, let off a shrill alarm.

  The bedroom door swung quietly open and a young woman ran in ignoring the scene occurring at my bedside and hastily checked the machines. She briskly and efficiently killed the alarm then turned to me. Seeing me awake if not completely coherent she smiled brightly.

  “Well it is nice to see you back amongst the living” she said taking my wrist in a professional manner checking the pulse.

  Interesting choice of words…it implied that I wasn’t living before now. She flipped down the sheet covering my chest briskly distracting me from her words. I realized that my upper half was almost completely swathed in bandages. I could tell that my stomach was bared but since my breasts were covered I didn’t concern myself. At least until I heard Craig’s loud hiss and exclamation.

  “What the fuck happened to you” he asked. He was pointing at my stomach below my bandages in a way which was abrasive and riddled with accusation. “That didn’t happen last week those are old and healed” he said. “Isaac… you going to tell me… WHY we need to be bothered with your little pet? We spent a lot of time and money getting her fixed up but from the looks of her she just goes looking for trouble” He was rude.

  And for the first time in a long time I felt ashamed of surviving those scars. I had forgotten how people reacted to seeing them for the first time. Shocked, scared, and the worst was pitifully. Anger was something unexpected. I had never been accused sideways for wanting my scars. They ringed the entire right side of my stomach trailing deep tunnels across to the other.

  The thought of having deserved it…was too much for me and my eyes stung. I tried to reach down and cover myself back up but the lady moved my hand aside. She began checking the bandages ignoring Craig. She was looking at Isaac without being obvious.

  Isaac however reacted very differently. He took one look at my face and was on his feet. Isaac grabbed Craig by his throat and physically removed him from my sight. Isaac was so angry the pulse in his neck was jumping around. He dragged Craig from the room.

  Craig tried to resist Isaac physically and Isaac shook him like a puppy by his neck. Isaac dropped Craig on the floor of the hall and slammed the door in his face. The speed Isaac moved with was not…normal. Isaac had lifted a grown man as if he had been weightless...certainly not normal.

  I didn’t understand why Isaac was so angry. He never protected me like this before…he never felt the need to save me from words. Isaac certainly never protected me from his nephews at the Diner.

  Isaac approached the bed, I could hear the sound of his teeth grinding, and he looked like he was going to have a coronary. I watched him tighten his self-control forcing himself to relax, take a breath, and to regain his seat. The woman twitched the bandage across my breasts a little too tightly and I made an involuntary pained sound.

  Isaac jumped from his chair looking at me wide eyed. He was wound up and ready to burst. This type of attention was not a part of our relationship. Something had changed in Isaac and he was acting…he was acting like a guard dog.

  “So…It’s like that is it?” the woman asked Isaac.

  She gave me a conspirator’s wink. Which I found to be…too personal for a stranger… but I was in a strange bed…in a strange room…when by all accounts I should’ve been hospitalized. I must have looked confused because she sat at the side of the bed smoothing the sheet out across me. I felt like I was being tucked in.

  It would have been comforting in what I imagined a motherly manner would be…if I wasn’t already weird-ed out. I had a nagging feeling that I had experienced this before. There was a familiarity in this woman. I knew down to my soul that this woman had cared for me before. She knew me and… I don’t know how that was possible.

  I gave converted glances of the woman fussing at my sheet. We looked to be the same age physically but her face had creases around her eyes as if she spent too much time squinting. She was fair…very fair with long blond hair that was wrapped in a bun at the top of her head.

  She wore scrub pants and a fitted gray sweater that flattered her in a relaxed way. She wasn’t really looking at me but watching Isaac out of the corner of her eye. It was an expectant look she gave him and she seemed to be waiting for some signal.

  She was hovering above me in a way that was…protective. This woman was preparing to do something. I couldn’t guess what. I gazed up at her from the flat of my back. She had been above me before.

  Her eyes were steel gray…and with a start I recognized them. I hadn’t known she was real. I had thought all these years that she was…a trick of my mind. She had taken my pain away.

  “Lee” Isaac said, drawing my attention back to him. He frowned at the woman. “Athena… I think that she is doing just fine now and I appreciate your help but we need a little privacy” Isaac wiped his hands across his face.

  “Your hair…eyes…” I whispered weakly to Isaac.

  I was positive that his hair was usually a consistent pale gray. As my eyes lingered on him I saw that it was now… black with gray streaks. It wasn’t a dye job. There was youthfulness to Isaac that wasn’t there before. The voice and mannerisms said this was Isaac but he looked…he looked like he has lost over twenty years to his age.

  Isaac looked in his late forties… a man in his prime… not an old man in the tail end of his life. His eyes still hinted of a fierce light and I know what I saw. It shook me to my soul that he had changed so much.

  “Oh, I think I will stick around” Athena said. “This concerns us more than the others after all” she gave me a knowing speculative look. “Gideon…Gideon was my brother.” She said those words meekly and wouldn’t look at anyone.

  Her head was hanging down and she offered me this…confession as if she expected a judgment from me. I would never presume…I would never consider that she was guilty by association. The over familiarity was already forgiven…she had been with me when I was…healing.

  I reached out for her hand taking it in my own. I let her know with my eyes that I thanked her for my life. Her hands were cold in mine and her face empty. I let my tears fall for us both. I never thought I would be grateful for the time she had given me.

  It was a great relief to know…that I wasn’t crazy. I had remembered her…as something else. I didn’t care that she was Gideon’s sister. She had paid me a thousand times over. Her unrelenting care had saved my life…I didn’t need to know how or why. Only that she was real.

  “Athena!” Isaac yelled making me flinch from his tone. He was usually short tempered but this newer younger version of him appeared to be hanging on by a loose thread. “It is my right to tell her what w
e know” he said in a lower tone. “My right and my privilege” he reached across the bed and took my other hand in his.

  I tried to pull away from him weakly and he wouldn’t let me go. Isaac’s insistence on keeping a hold of my hand threw me into a panic attack. It had been at least two years since I had to relive in my nightmare… again.

  *

  “What did they say?” Gideon asked pulling me into his arms.

  “We’re having a boy” I was ecstatic to give him the news… we had been so happy the last few years.

  I thought this kind of life was a fantasy reserved for sitcom television but after almost five years together we were just as in love. Gideon had found me and healed my broken parts he was the reassurances I never had and the true beginning of my life.

  I never would have thought I would be at a point with someone that I could have a real family with. I never had a family as a child. I bounced from foster home to foster home without any real connection to people.

  Gideon is the center of my universe and he goes out of his way to be a good husband. I buried my face into his neck just breathing him in. We had gotten married so young, I had been barely nineteen but I knew…I knew how much he had wanted our life together. My stomach made a wedge between us.

  “A...boy? Are you sure?” Gideon asked running his hands along my spine.

  “Yes. Absolutely sure. And he is healthy. And already so big… no wonder I’ve been so uncomfortable the last eight months. The amniocentesis is ninety-five percent positive. That’s as sure as we can be. I know how important it is for you to know what we’re having” I sighed.

  The gender of the baby had been Gideon’s primary focus since he found out I was pregnant. It was a small risk to take to alleviate his worry… but worth it when he let out a long sigh as if all the built up tension was running out of him at once. He slid a hand up my swollen body gently brushing the side of my enormous baby bump. His eyes began to water as he stood gripping the back of my neck. I was relieved he seemed so moved to be having a son and buried my face tighter against him.

 

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