Charlie
There were few things in life that
could transcend beyond the confines of time, space, culture and language. One
such thing was the look of bad news, a look that I had known far too intimately
as a child—I couldn’t possibly forget it.
Why I didn’t doubt his presence in the
doorway of my music hall, or at my school, or even in my city, remained a
mystery to me. But even if I had, the look on his face was enough to smack me
with reality.
Bad
news.
I seemed to float weightlessly to where
he stood. The air around me was thick and fuzzy; it hurt to breathe it in. I
focused on his lips, as if they held in them the balance of good and evil. I
waited for his words, bracing myself for their impact.
Out of everything he said, I heard only
three words.
Just. Three. Words.
Dad.
Heart
Attack.
The next few minutes I don’t remember
very well. I have only snapshots and glimpses that they even existed at all.
Snap Shot: Dorm room.
Camille packing my suitcase.
Snap Shot: Strong arms. Walking through
a parking lot.
Snap Shot: Truck door.
Cold leather at my back.
“Tell me what happened,” I said—or at
least I think I said. The voice didn’t sound like me. It was foreign, too far
away.
Briggs took a deep breath and grabbed
my limp hand from my lap. I couldn’t squeeze back, nothing seemed to be
attached to me. I was breaking from the inside out.
“Call your mom first, Shortcake…here. I
just spoke to Kai a few minutes ago, and your dad is still in surgery. Your mom
needs to know you’re safe,” he said.
He gave me his phone, my mom answered
on the first ring. It was then that my world began to crash.
Dad
could be …
I wouldn’t think it.
“Charlie?”
“Mom? Oh Mom…,” The tears came, wetting
my face for the first time.
“He’s still in surgery, his heart…he
needed a triple bypass.”
I heard the shake in her voice, she was
scared. I had never heard my mother like that—not ever. She had sweet southern
charm, yes, but she was never weak. Listening to her speak, the lack of
strength in her tone, was more frightening than the words that she had said.
“Oh, Mom…” I whispered.
Would
I get there in time? Would he even know me if he did wake up from this?
“I need to go…Aunt Jo just got here.
I’ll call you when I know more. I need you, Charlie.”
“I need you too, Mom.”
I laid the phone down on my lap and
sobbed. I didn’t care that I wasn’t alone. I didn’t even care that it was
Briggs who with me. I brought my knees up to my chest and turned my head toward
the window, pushing the top of the seatbelt under my chin. Everything burned
and twisted and sliced. There was not just one source of pain; it was all
muddied up together. My sobs became rhythmic, time seemingly irrelevant.
I wanted sleep to come, to take me away
from this nightmare, so that I could trade it in for a different one—one that
didn’t hurt my family.
But sleep wouldn’t come.
I felt Briggs touch my upper back,
rubbing warm circles on the outside of my sweatshirt. It was then that I was
glad that he was with me. He had come for me. He had known this pain would
cripple me—just like it had when I was five years-old.
I had felt this pain once before.
I tried to speak, but my words were
soundless. I tried again, but a sob escaped instead. He just kept rubbing my
back and driving. We still had two hours left—I recognized the road signs. I
unbuckled my seatbelt, and slowly scooted next to him. Immediately, he pulled
me closer, grabbing the end of my buckle to click it into place around me. I
laid my head on his chest, his arm the anchor that held me in place.
I closed my eyes and breathed him in.
I never wanted to move again.
“He’s strong, Charlie, one of the strongest
men I’ve ever known, and he loves you very much. I don’t know what will happen,
but I do know that.”
I nodded against him, feeling my tears
overwhelm me once more.
Then a deep voice filled the cab once
more.
Briggs was praying.
Briggs
It had only taken me three hours and
ten minutes to get to Austin. Kai, true to his word, had kept me updated during
my drive, though his status hadn’t changed.
Chief was still in surgery.
It wasn’t until I had pulled onto
campus that I realized I didn’t have the foggiest idea how to find her. I
parked near the admin building, hoping someone could help me, when I nearly ran
into a sign pointing to the Music Hall. I took a chance, taking the steps two
by two as I went inside.
Not even ten seconds later, I saw her.
Her back had faced me as I entered the
room,
she was speaking to a young woman with a violin on her
lap. For half a second, I forgot why I had come. My memory had not done her
justice. I fought the urge to run at her, flatten her against the wall, and
kiss her until there was no more air left in the room.
But as her eyes found me, I remembered.
I remembered why I was there.
She had stumbled toward me, as if
already expecting the news I was about to deliver. Within seconds, the girl
with the violin was at her side, knowing my name before I gave it. She was
Camille…Charlie had told me all about her, too. Camille led me to their dorm
room, packing a bag for Charlie with superhuman speed.
As I led her to my truck, Charlie was
non-responsive; she was in shock. I saw that face multiple times a week in my
profession, and I knew it well.
I had only one goal: Get Charlie to the
hospital safely, and in time.
Charlie
He was out of surgery when we arrived,
but no one had been allowed to see him yet. He was still in
recovery—stabilizing. My mom and Aunt Jo were huddled together on a couch in
the waiting area, and that’s when sob-attack number fifty-seven came over me.
Apparently, even when you’ve convinced
yourself that you can’t possibly cry one more tear, you can.
Though I wasn’t completely aware of his
presence, I knew Briggs was there, hovering nearby—always. An hour later, my
mom and I were ushered back into my dad’s room by a nurse to meet his doctor.
Seeing as my mom was so fragile-looking as we entered, I wrapped my arm around
her waist. I knew it was time for me to be the strong one.
“Mrs. Lexington, as you were informed
earlier, your husband needed a triple bypass, and though the surgery was
routine, there are several precautions we need to take in terms of his
recovery—it will be
very
slow. It’s a
good thing he was brought in when he was. We will be monitoring him in the ICU
tonight and...”
The rest was a blur. I couldn’t hear
him anymore.
A
triple-bypass? Precautions?
I leaned around the doctor to look at
my dad through the window. The sight made my stomach churn, until I realized…it
wasn’t him.
This
man was an
imposter…a man who only
resembled
my
dad. My dad was too strong to be lying in a hospital bed with cords and
machines attached to him. My dad was too healthy to be here.
They had it wrong.
“That’s not him,” I said, interrupting
some new detailed rant from the doctor.
“Charlie,” my mother crooned as she kissed
the top of my head.
“No, Mom. That’s not dad, look at him!”
I demanded.
Instead, they both looked at me.
“Maybe you should go get some rest,
sweetheart,” mom said. “It’s been a very long day for all of us. I’ll meet you
back out in the waiting room, alright?”
A bubble of laughter seemed to come
from some unknown depth within me, shocking everyone nearby, even myself. My
laughs were sharp, intense, and high-pitched, but mostly they were just
unstoppable.
This
isn’t real.
I
am not really here.
I was at school, and it was five days
before winter break.
Camille was just telling me about her
date with Trey last night.
Mom had just written me an email about
an ornament exchange.
None of this was real…finally,
something made sense.
Briggs
“Are you Briggs?” A short older nurse
asked me.
Turning around quickly I nodded at her,
“Yes?”
“Can you come with me? You’re needed.”
I followed her back through the waiting
room, down the hall to the cardiac recovery unit where Mrs. Julie stood. A
doctor was next to her, and sitting on the floor by their feet, was Charlie.
And she was…
laughing
?
No…she was hysterical.
I approached the scene cautiously,
looking from the doctor to Mrs. Julie, seeking out answers from their body
language. Mrs. Julie looked slightly embarrassed, but the doctor simply looked
perturbed. Charlie’s reaction was obviously cramping his style.
“What’s going on here?” I asked.
“Charlie’s not…I think she should go
home and get some rest before she can come back,” Mrs. Julie said.
“She’s seems to be experiencing a mild
psychotic break…due to stress”—the Doctor looked from me to Mrs. Julie—“she may
need to be hospitalized tonight if this continues on, Mrs. Lexington. It’s not
necessarily an uncommon reaction, but-”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll stay
with her tonight. She just needs some time, it’s been a long day, and this is
all a lot to take in,” I said, scowling at the doctor.
I ignored his glare, looking to Mrs.
Julie. She smiled weakly and nodded. I didn’t hesitate. I picked Charlie up off
the floor as she continued laughing on my shoulder. I walked toward the
elevator area, and purposely avoided the waiting room. Charlie didn’t need to
feel humiliated the next time she saw any of those people.
**********
I slipped her keys out of her purse and
unlocked the door to her parent’s house. Charlie had been quiet for some time,
but I could sense she was still under a significant amount of stress. I
supported her into the house, and turned on the main light. She wiggled out
from underneath my arm, and headed to the restroom on the first floor. I went
to the fridge, searching for something she could eat. I felt like an idiot for
not thinking of that before now. It was well after midnight, and I’d been with
her since early afternoon. Though I had snacked on several protein bars during
my time in the waiting area, I hadn’t seen Charlie eat or drink a thing in all
that time.
I walked into the front room where she
sat on the couch, her head resting on the arm.
“Charlie, you need to eat and drink
something before you fall asleep-”
Too
late.
I set the plate and cup down on the
coffee table, and carefully removed her shoes. She didn’t budge. I watched her,
having a hard time believing that I was actually standing in a room with her
again. It’d been so long—
too
long
. Before I could question it, I
slipped off my jacket and carefully stretched out beside her, covering us both
with the blanket that rested on the back of the couch. She melted back into the
groove of my body, never waking.
I listened to her quiet, rhythmic
breaths, eventually finding sleep of my own.
I didn’t need to dream about Charlie
tonight; this was my dream.
Charlie
I woke with a start as a light saber
sliced into my eyelids, painfully.
What
the—the sun?
Why
is the sun waking me up?
Something heavy lay on top of my arm,
and my hip ached with stiffness. I pushed myself up into a sitting position,
and that’s when I saw him.
Briggs
.
My mind screamed at me to remember.
Why am I sleeping on a couch in my parent’s
house—with Briggs?
I pounded my head with my fists.
Work. Work. Work.
It did.
“No,” I breathed.
Briggs sat up in that instant, rubbing
his eyes.
“Good morning, Shortcake,” he said,
groggily.
I stood, my stomach knotting as a rush
of dizziness came over me. I stared at his face, watching him grow steadily
more alert with each passing second. I shook my head.
“It’s real?” I asked breathlessly.
“Yes, Charlie. It’s real.”
I nodded, trying to take in a full
breath. My throat was closing in, and my lungs were leaking out bit by bit.
Oxygen was scarce.
I
can’t breathe.
I
can’t breathe.
I
can’t breathe.
“Charlie, sit down!” Briggs demanded.
I didn’t move. He pulled me down next
to him and forced my head between my legs.
“Breathe. There you go. Just breathe,
focus on each exhale,” he said.
When my panic finally subsided, I sat
up and looked at him.
“I need to go back, my mom needs me.”
“I know. I have your bag in the
truck—Camille packed it for you. Go take a shower and we’ll head back over
there together. I’ll make you some breakfast and call your mom.”
I followed orders, having no desire to
argue.