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I feel a string of chills wave down my arm. When I look down, Eli’s hand is over mine. His ring is shimmering blue.
“Dylan?” My chest bolts upright. The hand I thought was Eli’s is really his father’s. His fingers wrap around my wrist in an attempt to give me a little comfort. “I’m so sorry I startled you. You were talking in your sleep.”
“It was a dream. Shit. I mean, I’m sorry.” I push the heels of my hands into my eyes, while I try to pull air back into my lungs. “How long was I asleep?”
“A little more than an hour, perhaps. I found you in the chair here. Wes is still out cold behind you.”
“Any change?” I ask.
“Not yet. Hayley is driving her mother home for a shower and change of clothes. They’ll bring something back for me.”
“Can I get you anything, Jack? Water? Coffee?”
“If you had brandy in that purse of yours, I’d take that. Odds are not.”
“I switched bags yesterday, otherwise I would.” He smiles at my lame attempt at humor. “How can I feel worse after a nap?”
“I think, in this case, it’s two things. You didn’t have enough time to recover, and reality came back. I came to ask if you want to go sit with him.”
“Yes. I do. I want to talk to him. How does he look? Is it like before?” I’ve still got vivid images in my mind of all the wires and tubing attached to him. The look of his raw, dry lips forced around his ventilator.
“Well, he’s missing a bunch of hair where they had to shave a portion of his head on the left side. There are more bandages than before, protecting his head wound. However, with the tube out of his airway, he looks more like my son. When you’re ready, I left the chair pulled up next to him for you.”
Jack sits down in the chair I just left. I observe, from a little distance, as he peers over behind him watching Wes for a second. Jack’s normally the happiest person I know. You can hear his booming laugh up and down the halls at AnSa. I don’tthink there’s ever been a time, until now, when I haven’t seen him smiling.
This has taken a huge toll on him. His shoulders are rolled more forward. His eyes no longer shine bright behind his wire-framed glasses. His salt-and-pepper hair now seems more salt than pepper. He lays his glasses over his knee and rubs out over the bridge of his nose into the inner corners of his eyes. Eli does the same thing when he’s tired.
I walk slowly back to him in his seat. “Mr. Sawyer? Jack?”
He looks up at me. His eyes are glazed over. I’ve caught him in something very private. “Yes, Dylan?”
“I know it’s probably not proper but… do you need a hug?”
He smiles for the first time since we’ve been here, even if it’s only for a fraction of a second. He slides his glasses back on and rises out of his seat. “You know, I really could.”
I slide my hands under his arms, holding over his shoulder blades. The hug in the ICU before was to comfort me. This is about him. As he releases me, Jack gives me a squeeze over the caps of my shoulders and motions with his head for me to go.
I walk away again, but you’d think each step closer to Eli would be easier than the last. It’s not. It’s a level up in horror and anxiety with every step. I feel like I triggered him last time with the music. It’s what I know. It’s what brought us together. I have to trust it and figure out how to reach him.
I find myself spending a minute collecting my thoughts outside the entrance to Eli’s room. I don’t know quite why, but I run through the same checklist with my body as I do in a performance. I make sure every muscle group I have is relaxed. Nothing good comes from forcing it. My hands settle over my abdomen, and I take a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. I repeat this to the count of three. From it, I can find my center but also my strength.
The nurse is just leaving his bedside when I finish. She tells me I can go in whenever I’m ready, and if I need her, the red cross button on the bed will alert her. I don’t want to need her, but I’m glad I have the option after not knowing what to do before.
The glow over Eli’s body is less this time. Instead of his whole body being in a spotlight, he’s illuminated from mid-chest up. Jack was right. He does look more like Eli without the tube down his throat. I slide my purse off my shoulder, setting it on the floor beside the chair before I get close.
His chest is moving so shallow, but at least it’s moving on its own. I get the strongest feeling ofhere we go again, as I nest in on the bed at his side. His left arm has been rebandaged and slung tighter across his chest. Eli’s right hand is lying limp along his side.
They left his hospital gown off so I can see his chest, or most of it at least. Even though it’s only been a couple of days, I’ve missed his body. For as much strength thoughts, words, and feelings can give you, his body is about action, protection, and adoration. He’s so good at making me feel like the most important person in the world.
Pieces of his hair are pointing in every direction out of the top of his bandages. My fingers want to play in the tangled mess. It seems like the safest way I can touch him right now. I gently pull the strands carefully this way and that. He’s starting to look like he does when he’s sleeping normally.
When I was here the first time, the volume of the alerts from the machines was so high. It seems they’ve been turned down. It’s very quiet now, but it’s anything but peaceful.
“You’d hate this silence, Eli. I feel like you always need music in your space or the noise from the street. It’s like that’s what calms you the most. Things have changed a lot in a few days,” I tell him. “Not just you taking a dive for attention either. Your family finally knows everything. Hayley told them.
“Eli, they’ve treated me so kind. Your grandmother is so sweet. She was asking me all about dancing, and she told me about how she and your pops do ballroom. Your granddad figured out about my father. He didn’t question it or ask me why. It was nice.”
I try to keep the sleeves of Eli’s sweater up on my arms, but they keep falling. Instead of fighting it, I pull them down over my hands, putting them in a blanket of their own. They’re frozen and trembling at this point. “Hayley has treated me like a true friend and more. She’s okay. I’m taking care of her too. Wes, on the other hand. We got into a fight.” I give those words a second to see if it registers any bit of movement or reaction from Eli. It doesn’t.
