Page 28 of Letters Book Two
“I know. Now listen to him and get yourself together. You need to find your strength... NOW!” he hissed.
I wiped my face and composed myself. It was time for me to fight for this person. I had someone that loved me and needed me. I could... Iwouldbe present for this. I would fight when Lucas couldn’t. I had to help him and save our future.Message received, Jack. Loud and clear.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: Lucas
Iliked it better when I couldn’t feel pain. Shit hurt now and I couldn’t seem to explain it to the people near me. Was I talking? Were they listening? They poked, prodded, wrestled me around and kept flashing lights in my eyes. “Yes, it’s me. Yes, I hear you. I am squeezing your goddamn finger! Can’t you feel that?” I yelled.
Then came the tired feeling and I felt myself slipping away. It was dark in here and so, so lonely. If I was alive, I was losing track of time. Where is everyone? I hoped I’d see Jack again. He seemed nice, but he hadn’t visited in a while. Sometimes I heard the voices. Sometimes I felt the hands on me. I was trying to look through a very small opening but couldn’t make out faces.
I stared at the moving ceiling, through the tiny slit of light. We were moving. “I’ve seen this hallway before. Where are we going? Hello? Is anybody here?” I could speak... couldn’t I?
What happened to me? I tried so hard to remember, and yet it escaped me. My head hurt so much. The pain, the pain, the pain. I felt a shadow over my body and my arm being held and stretched out. “Ouch!” Ahhhh... there it is. Bye-bye, pain. Relief again. I was so tired... again, and sinking... sinking... away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: Perry
Two weeks had gone by, and Lucas was still unresponsive. He’d had two surgeries and came out of each one still unable to regain consciousness, even with his strong vitals. His doctors credited his age and the physical condition he’d been in for his survival thus far but had no idea when or if he’d wake up.
I was thankful that he wouldn’t be able to see my face as I approached his bedside that first day. There was no way I would be able to hide the ache in my heart. It was difficult at first to recognize his innocent face. My eyes were swollen with fresh tears, and I wanted to turn and run, but I wasn’t giving in this time. I would stay here until he could open his eyes and know that I was with him, would be with him, always. My breath hitched as I gathered my wits and forced myself to remember that my Lucas was in there. He needed my protection. I’d told him last summer at the beach that I wanted to protect him and that he was not alone anymore. I intended to keep my promise.
I stood over him, my eyes taking the horror in. The clock ticked the passage of time on the wall. I’d been here before. I’d witnessed time slowly passing by, never prompting me to hurry or to linger. My own clock stopped once, and now here I was again, measuring time through pain. But, this time I had a plan, a mission if you will. I would let time slide away. Each second. Each minute. Every single hour would get me one tick closer to my life with Lucas. I could wait. Like I said, I’ve been here before.
There was a laundry list of injuries to his young body. He suffered acute trauma to his head and had to have immediate surgery when he’d arrived to relieve the pressure on his brain. Thankfully blood and oxygen supplies were stable during his surgery, and it appeared he’d have no permanent damage if he woke.If he woke.The doctors promised nothing.
His eyes and nose were twice their normal size and both eyes were swollen shut. One of them finally reduced in size and could open ever so slightly. It appeared as if he was trying to focus on us sometimes. The doctors, once again, said it could be an involuntary eye movement. He also had three fractured ribs, a severely bruised kidney, and a severe sprain to one arm. Stitches in his lips held them together after the brutal beating he had sustained. I had kissed those lips once. I would again. I wanted to kill the person that did this to my boy. I stood and stared at his broken body and the only thoughts besides his recovery were the cold-blooded rage I felt, and the desire to rip apart the human being that had done this to him.I will find you. I will kill you.I’ve never felt such pure hate, such anger.You will suffer if my love dies.
Mrs. Howard had her husband cremated and said she would have his service after Lucas was well. “I will wait until Lucas can be with me. Ed would have wanted him by my side,” she said, holding Lucas’s hand in hers.
She, Chad, and I, took turns at Lucas’s side. We exchanged even the most minute details of any movement or feeling we had concerning him. Mrs. Howard fussed over him. She read books to him and spoke of his time at the station, always including Mr. Howard in her stories. “I don’t want him to know that Ed is dead. We must not speak of it, even after he wakes. He’ll need to focus his energy on healing. Do you two understand me?” We nodded in agreement. “He needs to know this is the place to be, here with us. I don’t want him following Ed,” she explained one afternoon. “He loves Ed, he’ll want to follow.” She had her mother-hen ways, and her idea was to love him back to health by sheer will. I truly believed she would.
The police had been by several times to see if they could interview Lucas or Clint Bowers. Unfortunately, both were still unable to. I’d learned that Clint Bowers had most likely saved Lucas’s life. The police had pieced together that Lucas was probably at home alone when the attack occurred and had tried to fight the assailant off. They found Clint’s truck, with the door open, still idling in the drive of the station, near the stairs. It seemed like he had run up to assist Lucas. However, police couldn’t figure out how he could have known. He was found lying near Lucas, his arm across Lucas’s back, an act of protection. Clint had been shot twice. One went clean through his thigh and the other through his upper shoulder, nicking an artery near his neck, thus causing the blood loss. He had many bruises and abrasions as if he had also been in a violent struggle with his attacker. Mr. Howard must have heard the commotion when he arrived at the station. He apparently had come up to Lucas’s apartment via the outdoor staircase and startled the gunman that fired a single shot into his chest. He survived his six-hour surgery, only to die in the ICU room, and was pronounced dead thirty minutes before we had arrived at the hospital.
Hilton Head Hospital was a smaller ninety-bed regional hospital, and the ICU was a four-bed department in its own wing. The ICU beds were cordoned off by curtains only. There had been three occupants until Mr. Howard succumbed to his injuries. Clint Bowers was in one of the beds and had had no visitors in two weeks. I peeked through his curtains almost daily, curious about his recovery and whether or not I could see any improvements in him. He was a handsome man, I could see that, even with his injuries.How do you know my Lucas?
Chad came up behind me. “It’s not right, Perry. He’s all by himself. What’s it been? Two weeks? And not a single visitor? Where are his loved ones?” he asked, turning from me and back to Clint’s bed. He pinched his lips, sadness on his face. “That guy is a hero, and no one is here for him. It’s just... not right.” His voice disappeared in a whisper.
I knew that look well. Chad would not leave this injustice alone. He asked the doctors and nurses every day about Clint’s progress. At first they were reluctant to share personal information with him. Chad understood their concerns about privacy, but he was also very good at getting people under his otherworldly spell. “He needs to feel people are here with him. He has no support. Can I please be by his side?” After another week had passed, the nurses acquiesced and turned a loving cheek when they found him sitting by Clint and holding his hand or wiping his face and arms down with a wet, cool cloth. “He needs us,” he explained to the smiles he’d get. The hospital staff were soon under his charm and knew they were in the presence of someone special.
I stared at the ticking clock on the wall.Tick, tick, tick.The march was on, and the room kept time. I had watched enough crappy TV in the last two weeks to rot my brain. Chad felt the sound might helpour boysrecover. “Go get us some coffee, Perry. I’ve got him.” He moved past me and removed my hand from Lucas’s, replacing it with his own. “He’s so sweet, Perry. I see why you love him. I’m certain he and I will be fast friends.” He smiled and pushed me toward the door.
I headed for the door and stopped just before exiting the room. I turned around just in time to see Chad leaning in and whispering in Lucas’s ear as he wiped a cloth across his forehead. My eyes must have asked the question as Chad turned to me. “I told him to listen to Jack carefully. It’s not his time.” Like the nurses, we were all under his spell. So was Jack.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: Lucas
The waves rolled onto the shore, yet my feet didn’t feel wet as I walked along the empty beach. Twilight, that odd time between day and night when light would trick you with its secrets, accompanied me on my search. I gazed across the water. If you were careful, you could see the divide between the spent day and the new night on the horizon. I believed that to be the space where the others came from. I was wearing a hospital gown and yet it felt as normal as any other choice I could have made. I was sure I’d met my angel on this part of the beach. Momma and I liked this spot the best too. I was sure I’d see her today. Perhaps we would meet up with Lachen and Jack. We could share our dreams and talk about our plans now that we were here together.
It was so very peaceful here. There was no pain, no sadness, only quiet and beauty waited for me here. I could see myself staying in this setting for eternity.
My gaze followed the tree line and the world outside. The divide. The other side was where the living dwelled. Nothing but endless space stood between me and the edge of the world. Was I alone?“Momma, I’m here.”I watched as my words floated down the beach and evaporated into the mist. Would she hear them? Could she see me?“Jack, I’m back. I have questions, Jack.”Where is everyone?
My eyes moved across the surf and to the horizon beyond. There was a thin line of light between the ocean and the sky where figures stood holding hands. They had their backs to me and were looking away, off into the distance, at something I could not see. I raised my arms and crossed them high above my head, waving to the strangers.
How do I get from here to there? I can’t see past the light.“Hello? Is anybody there?”
Nothing. Nothing but silence. I walked into the surf, hoping to cross over. Nothing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: Perry
Iheld one of Lucas’s legs and bent it back at the knee, moving his heel toward him, and then stretched it back out straight. Chad held the other, doing the same. We had been working with his body, keeping him moving. The swelling was subsiding on his face, and his lips were healing. The lovely young man was returning. The outer shell was improving, but we still didn’t know what was happening within. There were times when I swore he was watching me. But, when I moved, hoping his eyes would follow, they didn’t.
