Tattoos: A Novel (28 page)

21. Jax

“Pin this on her shirt,” Gran said, passing a tiny gold pin to me. I took it in my hand, realizing that it was a guardian angel pin. It had a tiny emerald colored stone in it; Marilee’s birthstone.

“Is it supposed to help?” I asked. Gran shrugged and smiled.
 

“We can only hope that it will.”
 

She ran her fingers down my cheek. Her worry was almost palpable. It didn’t help that it was Christmas Eve and instead of spending it with her remembering Grandad, I was going back to the hospital to stand vigil at Marilee’s bedside. I’d offered to stay back and spend the evening with Gran, but she’d been adamant that I go and be with Marilee.
 
As if she somehow knew our time together was short. I hated even thinking like that. I also couldn’t delude myself into believing that everything was fine either. It had been five days since Marilee had almost died and though she was stable, she was still ventilated and in a coma. Nobody knew when she would wake up, and if she did, if she would be the same girl I’d fallen in love with.
 

Though no one had said it in so many words there was a definite concern that Marilee might have suffered brain damage. Her heart had stopped beating five times and they’d brought her back. In fact as far as I’d been told it was a miracle in itself that she was alive at all. Now being alive wasn’t enough for me, I needed to have her back fully.

“Are you sure that you haven’t lost weight?” Gran asked.

 
I shook my head because she was as sharp as a tack. I had lost five pounds in the past week but I wasn’t about to tell Gran that. If I did she’d be forcing me to drink BOOST, a gross milkshake that helped you gain weight. I’d had it too many times in the past to ever want to revisit it. In fact I gagged just thinking about it.

“Not a pound,” I lied. She gave me the evil eye like she knew I was lying, but didn’t say anything else about the matter.
 

“Are you sure that it’s okay to go to the hospital this evening?” I asked, still guilty that I was leaving her even though she’d given me the green light.

“Being with the living is more important than being with the dead,” she said simply. A pang of sadness pierced my heart. No matter how stoic Gran was acting, it was Grandad’s death anniversary and our New Years Eve, it was an important day.

“If you say so,” I said.
 

I grabbed the paper shopping bag from the chair where I’d laid it. I leaned in and gave Gran a kiss on her wrinkled cheek. She winked at me and her smile traveled right up to her eyes.

“I say so.”
 

She patted my cheek one last time then turned me around until I was facing the door. I opened the it, throwing one last fleeting look her way. Gran was still grinning. I sighed and left.
 

It wasn’t often that the weather cooperated and it managed to snow on Christmas Eve, but for some reason it was. And it wasn’t any ordinary snow either, this was postcard perfect, like the powers that be, had conspired to cover the world in a sprinkle of icing sugar. I wished that Marilee was walking through what I could aptly describe as a winter wonderland.
 

Under the cover of the snow everything seemed clean and white. The Strip even looked different, all the ugliness that usually marred it had disappeared, for a little while at least. I knew that the buses were running on the holiday schedule, so I had planned to arrive at the bus stop right around the time when the next one was due.
 

When the bus pulled up along the curbside I noticed it was practically deserted. All the stores had already closed and most people were probably home with their families, wrapping presents and doing last minute preparations. Even the vagrants who usually graced the Strip were conspicuously absent. They had probably chosen to spend the holiday in a warm shelter rather than on the streets.

I made my way to the Step Down Unit of the hospital where Marilee had been moved the day before. The doctors had deemed her stable enough to have a private room with an around the clock nurse to attend to her needs. The new room was more private and although it was nothing like room 312, it was better than the ICU, a place that somehow managed to set me on edge every time I walked onto the floor.

 
I made my way to Marilee’s room. Even before I was halfway down the corridor Harold and Luanne met me in the hall. As soon as I saw them there waiting, my heart leapt, thinking that something had happened to Marilee. When they both broke into wide grins I calmed.

As odd as it might have seemed, the Lawrences and I had formed sort of a bond since Marilee had gotten sick. Unlike before, they’d become regular fixtures at the hospital, and usually only chanced to leave when they knew that I was with Marilee. They’d made such an about face that it was hard to believe they were the same two people.
 

Gone was Luanne’s need to be the center of attention, and though I couldn’t actually go as far as calling her the doting mother, she was definitely making progress. Harold for his part, had been like a rock for both Luanne and even me. I was grateful for his quiet strength because sometimes seeing Marilee, lifeless and so still was almost too much to bear. It was strange how in a time of crisis relationships could change so dramatically. I actually could say with all honesty that I no longer wanted to rip off Luanne and Harold’s heads every time I saw them. I just hoped the change lasted and that Marilee could someday witness it too.
 

“We have a surprise for you,” Luanne said in a sing-song voice. The sound of it was so strange that it was jarring.

“Well actually Marilee has a surprise for you,” Harold corrected. His face cracked an awkward smile, like it wasn’t something he did often.

Hope blossomed in my chest. Had she come out of the coma?

“No it’s not Marilee, she’s the same,” Harold amended, as if he’d read my mind. I drooped, hating that I’d allowed impossible dreams to cloud reality. I had to accept what was, if dreams were real the streets would be paved with gold.

Luanne threaded her arm through mine, and led me forward to Marilee’s room. Harold followed, smiling like an imp. As soon as we passed over the threshold to Marilee’s room I was bowled over by what I saw there.
 

“How?” I managed to say.

“She’s been working on these for a while. Every time she finished one she’d send it home with us. It was supposed to be her Christmas gift to you Jax,” Luanne said, fresh tears glistening in her eyes. I felt my own tears burn too. How could I not be emotional when the room was filled with at least twenty watercolor paintings. And they weren’t just any old paintings, they were detailed images of something that meant as much to me as Marilee did, my tattoos.

 
I stumbled back, leaning against the door frame as my eyes went from picture to picture. It seemed impossible that she’d been able to capture in utter perfection the tattoos that told the story of my life, but somehow she’d managed to do just that. From the tiny hummingbird that fed from a pumpkin orange Hibiscus and the Phoenix rising from a fiery plume of ashes, Marilee had got everything just right.
 

And looking at my tattoos in living color only reminded me more how much Marilee truly understood every bit of who I was. When I caught sight of the last image that she’d painted, the tattoo of her sleeping, I was a heart beat away from going to mush. And in the middle of all of this, was Marilee, the real person, a shattered living doll. The concept that I might never be able to tell her just how much she meant to me, felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest.
 

I moved to the bed, gazing down at Marilee, locked in a place that nobody could access. I knew with every fiber of my being that I had to break through. I had to somehow find her in the shell of her body that held her prisoner. I needed to bring her back to me. I didn’t know if I could go on without her. I’d heard about people who had supposedly died of heartache when a loved one had died, and up until that moment I hadn’t believed it was more than a bunch of crap. Now I knew it was more than a little possible.

 
I brought my lips to Marilee’s, kissing her as if she were Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. Right then I wanted to believe in fairytales, and that I could magically heal her and bring her back to me. But I knew I was only a human and magic just didn’t exist.

“I have to go for a minute,” I said, placing my shopping bag on the floor.
 

I didn’t wait for a response from Luanne or Harold before I left. Then I was striding down the corridor as if drawn by an invisible force. When I arrived at the place that was called a meditation room which was really just a non-denominational prayer room, I fell to my knees on the carpeted floor. I wasn’t religious, in fact I’d never prayed in my life, and that’s what made the urge to do so now so odd.
 

I’d always believed there was something more than what we saw on Earth, and that when people died they didn’t just go in the ground. I couldn’t believe that the energy that animated us, made us living beings, just ceased to exist when we died. I believed in the theory that energy was infinite, it definitely changed forms but it always existed. So it made sense that when a person died their energy had to go somewhere. Where exactly, was beyond me.

But right there in that place, where the walls seemed to ooze quiet, I prayed to whoever was listening that Marilee would come back to me. No one answered.

An hour later I returned to Marilee’s room. Harold and Luanne weren’t there. When I spotted their coats slung over the back of a chair I knew they weren’t very far. I cast my eyes over the paintings, studying every brush stroke, imagining Marilee’s hand moving, creating every piece. I wanted Gran to see Marilee’s work. In fact I wanted the whole world to see what she’d done so they could witness her beauty, so evident in her paintings.
 

Still mesmerized by the pictures, I sat in the chair at Marilee’s bedside. I threaded my fingers through hers, massaging her fingertips, wishing that she would show some sign that she was still there, but there was nothing.

“Hello Jackson,” Gran said from behind me. I startled and turned toward the door. She was dressed in her grey and black tweed wool coat that fell to just below her knees. Her hand knit dark grey hat was covered with melting snow. She pulled her leather gloves off her hands and tucked them into her pocket.

“Gran what are you doing here?” I said, standing up. Gran ambled over to me with a twinkle in her eye.
 

“I came to see Marilee,” she said.
 

She stood at my side, staring down at Marilee.
 

“You need to pin the Guardian Angel to her shirt Jackson,” she said.
 

I reached into my pocket, pulling out the tiny pin that I’d all but forgotten about. Gran took it from my hand then leaned over and pinned it to Marilee’s sky blue Johnny shirt. As usual there was no response from her. The petite angel glittered under the florescent lights. Somehow knowing it was there on her shirt made me feel better.

“I don’t know if she even believes in Angels,” I said.

Gran shook her head. “It doesn’t matter if she believes in them because they believe in her,” Gran whispered. She let her fingers graze Marilee’s forehead. I was sure she made the sign of the cross as if she were blessing her.
 

Gran had been brought up Christian though now she didn’t belong to any particular group since they didn’t look kindly upon fortune-telling. Which didn’t make sense to me because Gran was one of the kindest and most giving people I knew. Any religious group should have been more than happy to have her in their congregation. For her part, Gran always said she didn’t need to be part of any of it because her religion, if anyone wanted to call it that, was about doing the right thing, giving when you could. In her words one act of kindness was worth a lifetime of empty promises.

Gran flipped Marilee’s hand over and traced the lines of her palm.
 

“This girl isn’t finished living yet Jackson. She’s going to come back to you,” she said. The absolute conviction in her statement made my heart lurch with anticipation because Gran never said things that she didn’t believe. That meant that something in Marilee’s hand said she was going to be all right. I wanted to cling to Gran’s words as if believing in them would make them real.
 

Gran stepped back, wrapping her small arm around my shoulders. It made me feel safe. “Don’t ever lose hope Jackson. Hope is a priceless commodity that will see us through our darkest times.”

I nodded. Once again we stared down at Marilee as if expecting a Christmas miracle to occur. Unfortunately it didn’t happen, not that night at least. Three days later it did.
 

I’d been in the middle of a shift at the hospital when I heard my name over the intercom to report to the Step Down Unit. Even before the announcer had finished I was at the stairwell, taking the steps three at a time. Fear mixed with anticipation because as far as the doctors had said Marilee could still go either way. Luanne and Harold were out in the hall, waiting for me. From the expressions on their faces I knew the news was good.

“Is she awake?” I asked, breathless from running.

“See for yourself,” Harold said, pointing toward the door that led to Marilee’s room. I rushed by him. In my haste I almost barreled through him. It was lucky for both of us that he had enough forethought to move out of my way. As soon as I was in the room I knew that something had changed. As crazy as it sounded, it actually felt different. I had no idea how to explain how it felt different, only that it did.

Marilee was propped up in the bed. Her eyes were closed just like they’d been every day that had passed since she’d had her reaction. The breathing tube was gone though and that fact alone gave me hope. Before I’d made it to the bed her eyes fluttered open and she locked on me. I held my breath waiting, hoping and wishing with my very core, that she would be just like she’d been before she’d gone into a coma. The doctors had said that though her EEG, a brain scan, was good, she could still have brain damage.