Heaven or Hell (23 page)

“Yes.”

“Do you think Teresa and JJ will come by again?” Joe questioned her then.

“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her since before she saw you yesterday. I think this is real tough on her. So, it’s hard to say.” Jessie sighed. She didn’t know what would be best for Teresa—seeing him again, or just avoiding further contact.

“How’ve you been? What’ve you been up to all these years?” Joe turned his head toward Jessie and maintained eye contact.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? I wouldn’t know where to begin. Teresa lived with me for a while and we got her through college. I retired from the school a few years ago, but I keep busy.”

“Jessie, you’ve never liked talking about yourself. You haven’t changed a bit, in that respect.”

“Hmm, thank you … I guess,” Jessie said.

“What happened to Robert? Did you marry him?” Joe asked.

“Robert Nunez? We were never going to marry. He went to jail.” Jessie wrinkled her forehead and squinted her eyes. She hadn’t heard the Nunez name in years, and hearing it now was a shock to her system. Robert!

“What? No way. That guy was as straight as an arrow,” Joe rasped.

“He got into drugs or something, but that was long after he and I broke up. Robert just wasn’t meant for me.” Jessie couldn’t tell if her brother was truly interested, or if he was merely pushing the focus off himself. At this point what did it matter though? She’d play along.

“So, who was?” he asked.

“Well, evidently no one, Joe. I never married,” Jessie snapped.

“I thought you had somebody in your life …” Joe’s eyebrows lifted.

Jessie smiled and put as much lightness in her voice as she could, almost as if she were talking to a child. “No, I don’t have time for that. I’m a busy lady. I can’t say I’ve saved the streets of Los Angeles, like my brother has, but nothing romantic to speak of, either.”

“What happened with Teresa and Greg?” Joe asked.

For a moment Jessie thought of the arguments between the two, and Teresa’s obsession over getting pregnant. The strain was simply too much for their relationship. “I’m not completely sure,” she answered. “But he’s been remarried for quite some time, and he has a beautiful family, which I’m sure secretly bothers Teresa.”

“That’s too bad,” Joe said as he closed his eyes.

Within seconds, the machines began making noises—a different rhythm than previously. Several medical technicians, nurses, and doctors ran into the room and shooed Jessie away from Joe’s bedside.

“He’s got nine lives, you know.” The priest entered the room and the two of them stood by the empty bed near the door.

With her face pulled tight and her jaw clenched, Jessie leaned against the wall farthest from Joe’s bed. Her stomach began to turn. As quickly as he’d reentered their lives, it was over. Her brother was about to die. A tear fell down Jessie’s check. Speaking now would only cause her to cry hysterically. Oh, that stupid priest. Why didn’t he go away and leave her alone?

“Jessie,” Father Benjamin said. “He might pull through.”

Jessie nodded and made a weak attempt at a smile while she watched the hospital staff come and go on high alert. To Jessie the moment seemed surreal; her head spun, and she fidgeted on her feet, murmuring, “This isn’t happening right now. Not yet.”

Many sets of scrubs stomped in and out of Joe’s room for what seemed like hours; then all at once the flurry of activity came to an end. Jessie’s purse fell to the ground as she moved quickly around the empty bed and trotted to her brother’s side.

“What happened? Joe?” She pushed her way through the sea of green that were surrounding his body.

A woman who she thought was a nurse spoke directly in her ear. “Juan was very specific about
not
attempting resuscitation. We can’t do anything else. I’m so sorry.”

Joe’s eyes were closed, and the machine’s rhythm seemed familiar, but Joe was barely breathing. His pale skin seemed almost transparent.

“Joe, it’s okay to go,” Jessie whispered.

She touched her brother’s cheek and he opened his eyes but stared right past her. His eyes shut again, and he gasped for breath. The breath soon exited him, and she waited for him to take another gulp of air, which never came.

Tears welled up in her eyes and slowly spilled over. If the room was still filled with hospital workers she wasn’t aware of it. It seemed as if she and her brother were all alone, yet connected again at the moment of his death.

Jessie stood at Joe’s bedside and held his lifeless hand until the warmth left his body.

CHAPTER 22
 

TERESA DROVE HER CAR THROUGH TRAFFIC as if she were on autopilot. She’d managed to get an earlier start than the previous day, but her head was foggy, and she felt like she could easily go back to bed and sleep the day away. She hardly noticed that JJ was unusually quiet as well. She sipped her coffee and shivered while she drove with one hand.

“I had some weird dreams last night,” JJ said.

“Oh yeah, about what?” Teresa asked.

“Aunt Angela talked to me, practically all night long. She told me things like what your Dad was telling us yesterday. Well, she said she was my aunt.”

“Hmm … I think I slept pretty deep, because I don’t remember anything.” Teresa sipped her coffee as a memory of her fingers flashed into her head. “Except for my fingers.”

“What?” JJ asked.

“Yes, I woke up and my fingers were moving in front of my face. Sounds crazy, but I had no control of my arm …” Teresa gripped the steering wheel harder. “I think we both experienced a Joe Torres tall tale night.”

“My dream was strange. I’ve never experienced anything quite like that. Aunt Angela went into detail about those little dogs, your dad, and that cloud,” JJ said with a yawn.

“Aunt Angela? Where’d you get that from?”

“In my dream. I told you,” he responded.

Teresa shook her head and cleared her throat. “This is nuts,” she whispered.

“I know,” JJ said. “But just in case, this morning I wrote down what I could remember.”

Teresa raised her eyebrow and glanced over at her son.

“I know that look, Mom,” JJ said. “But, I want to track my dreams. What if I have more? And what if they tell me something we need to know, even if it is my overactive imagination. I think you should write down your dream, too.”

“Mine wasn’t a dream. I woke up and my hand was over my face, and my fingers were moving in front of my eyes. I went back to sleep,” she said.

“Okay, then, I’ll write that down.” JJ pulled a notepad out of his backpack and began to write.

“Oh, stop this. Don’t be so silly. It’s all coming from Joe.” Teresa put her hand on JJ’s pen.

“Mom, steering wheel, please!” JJ pulled away his pen and pointed toward the road.

“Oops.” Teresa grabbed the wheel and for a split second thought she saw the gold interior of the old family wagon she and Angela were driving in the day of the accident. JJ’s voice brought her back to the moment.

“I want to keep track of all of this weird stuff.” JJ wrote while he spoke. “I’m also documenting your hostility.”

Teresa chuckled and let down her guard a bit. “Okay, okay. I guess it’s good exercise for your brain.”

She thought about last night and how she’d tossed and turned after the incident of her fingers in her face. A restless night would be an understatement. It was as if she’d fought with herself all night long. She yawned and was back in automatic pilot mode when her cell phone rang.

“Hello,” she answered.

“Teresa, this is Father Benjamin. I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“Is he gone?” she asked.

“He’s gone,” the priest responded.

“Okay, we’ll be right over.” Teresa moved the car through traffic as she dialed JJ’s school to say he’d be out for the day. Heaviness weighed in her heart, a sadness she thought she’d never feel toward her father again. Her throat tightened, and she used every bit of her energy to focus on something else—anything else to help her resist the urge to sob. She told herself she wasn’t going to cry. Damn that man. He was only gone as he had been last week and the week before. It was that simple. No more pain.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” JJ said.

Teresa dared not open her mouth for fear of losing control, so she nodded toward JJ and drove in silence. Her Aunt Jessie would need to know, and somebody would have to call Uncle Joe at the home. She absentmindedly reached in her jacket pocket looking for that woman Anna’s telephone number. How silly of her—the priest would surely tell the folks from the center.

What about Greg? Well, he didn’t need to know. She hadn’t been married to him for many years now. And he’d never met her father, had he? The people she’d be spending time with today were folks in her father’s life. Strangers whom she didn’t know.

“Are you okay?” JJ asked.

Teresa nodded. She’d have to make arrangements at the funeral home. Should she call Aunt Jessie now? No, that could wait until she got to the hospital and saw for certain that her father was gone.

“It’s going to be okay,” a woman said in a hushed tone.

Wait a minute, that voice wasn’t JJ’s. “I’m sorry, did you just say something?” she asked.

“Like an hour ago. What’s up, Mom? I said, ‘Are you okay,’ and you nodded.” JJ leaned into her, touching her shoulder with his head.

“Oh, I thought you said … it’s okay …” Teresa supposed the voice had been her imagination.

“I guess you’re hearing things, or your dad’s here.” JJ laughed.

“Stop that nonsense,” Teresa snapped.

“Okay, okay,” JJ responded.

Dazed by the news of her father’s death, and a little confused, Teresa drove like an automaton to the hospital. Which seemed a lifetime away. The unpleasantness of the situation seeped into her bones as she maneuvered the car through the hospital lot, and out of habit looked for a safe place to park.

How could Joe have done this to her again? The man seemed to be continually abandoning her—Joe’s perpetual motion.

JJ and Teresa entered the hospital and went directly to Joe’s room, where Aunt Jessie stood outside the door. The priest must’ve called both of them. Well, of course he did; he must have their numbers on speed dial—judging by the urgency with which he’d tried to get them to visit her dad, and that was only yesterday. Had it been just about twenty-four hours since she’d learned of her father’s illness, and now he was gone?

“Aunt Jessie, you’re here early.” Teresa hugged her aunt.

“I woke up, got dressed, and came right over. I felt like I had to. I didn’t know he was going to die while we were talking.” Aunt Jessie dabbed at her bloodshot eyes and frowned. “I know it was inevitable. I suppose it’s inevitable for us all. But I wasn’t ready for him to go just yet.”

“I know,” Teresa said.

“Aunt Jessie, I’m sorry.” JJ hugged her.

“He’s still in there, if you both want to say your very final good-byes,” Aunt Jessie told them.

CHAPTER 23
 

JOE OPENED HIS EYES AND STRETCHED his arms without any restrictions imposed by the hospital equipment. Then he sat up on his own. The hospital room, his noisy home for the previous week, was unusually quiet. The lights were dim, as if some type of power failure had occurred in the hospital and the back-up generators had kicked in.

The unbelievable heaviness of his body seemed to have disappeared and was replaced by a freer, airier feel. Joe stood next to his bed and wondered why he wasn’t hooked to the machines anymore. Had he gotten better?

With one foot in front of the other, he walked from his bed to the other side of the room and smiled. It seemed like years since he’d been able to walk so upright and strong. Grinning from ear to ear, he danced a few steps to the door.

“Wow,” he whispered, and then put his head through the door. “Hello. Where is everyone?”

The hall was empty, and the hospital appeared to have been abandoned. Joe trembled and tried to shake off the foreboding feeling that had snuck up on him. He looked at his arms, no needles or marks from the IV bag. In fact, his skin was a smooth tan color, glowing, and no longer yellow. The burning in his throat and stomach was completely gone along with the pain that had pervaded his entire body. He hadn’t realized how bad the pain had been until he felt its absence.

“Angela, Angel, are you here?” Joe walked the hallways of the vacant hospital, unsure of his new reality, but more than happy to be out of that tired, sick body.

“I must be dead, or someone’s playing a cruel trick on me, because … I feel good, like I knew that I would … now … and … I feel nice, like sugar and spice. So good.” Joe laughed at his James Brown impression as he continued to dance his way down the hall.

Joe picked up the phone at the nurses’ station—no dial tone. He moved to the light switch—no control of the lights. What kind of heaven was this, anyway? Out of the corner of his eye, Joe saw movement—sort of like a ripple over reality—as when a pebble breaks the surface of clear water. Yes, the world rippled a little.

His head turned quickly to the right when he witnessed another ripple, but he only caught the tail end of the movement. And it seemed as if this entire setting was fake, that the world he now inhabited was like a window blind or some type of veil. Then the hospital rippled, and the world appeared to be something completely and totally counterfeit at that moment—like a liquid movie set, one that Joe was somehow walking and living in.

The front doors to the hospital reflected beams of sunshine that seeped into the empty lobby. Joe stood in front of the exit. He felt no fear; his life had brought him to this point and he was ready to continue with the plan his dead wife had assigned him to. He’d tried to make it right with his daughters before he’d died, and hopefully his next steps would complete the attempt. He really wasn’t bothered that he was encircled now only by silence and stillness. In fact, his solitary state was kind of relaxing. Perhaps the benefit of his journey through the pit was that the experience somehow enabled him to live in this moment.

Suddenly, the interior of his body lit up, and he wanted to laugh because he felt as if he were being tickled. The light inside his being gave him a sense of invincibility, and the strength of his body felt good—like an old memory from many years ago.