Page 21 of Jocked Up

The boy didn’t make a sound as he fell but Drake could see the pain and fear in his eyes. Drake ran to his side, bending down on the ground. Drake knew immediately the boy's arm was broken, the bone was sticking out of the torn and already bruising skin and he had a deep laceration on his head.

“No, stay down, son. Let’s have a look at you.” Drake looked Peter over, seeing how the child winced whenever he moved his arm. Drake sat back on his feet, holding his hand to Peter’s head wound as the rush of adrenaline let go and the crash of relief washed over him. Peter was hurt but he’d live.

Drake had panicked as he’d watched the child falling, his heart ready to explode as Peter landed and almost bounced before he turned over on to his back, untrapping his broken arm. Drake heard Bethany screaming behind him and turned to tell her Peter needed an ambulance but she was already across the yard with her phone in her hand.

Bethany was talking to the 911 operator as she bent to take Peter to her side. He pushed her away though and held his good arm up to Drake. Bethany would have been stung by this rejection but she saw the love and trust, the confidence Peter had in Drake and let the emotion flow away. This was a good sign, though the moment was terrible.

Drake went to push Peter’s shirt down, the garment having slid up when Peter turned over but paused. There on his taut little boy stomach was something that made Drake’s heart stop once more. A lighter shade than Petra’s but darker than Drake’s, a small angel-shaped birthmark rested just to the right of Peter’s bellybutton. He felt his heart stop, could have sworn it stopped but he was still breathing as he looked up at Bethany. But she was busy talking into the phone, tears in her eyes as she examined Peter’s arm.

Peter was his? Could it be?

* * *

I felt my entire world falling to the ground and shattering as my son fell from the tree, hitting a couple of branches on the way down. When he pushed me away and wanted Drake I’d felt a bit miffed, my heart had all but exploded in my chest but he didn’t want me. It was a good thing, though, and as I talked to the 911 operator I looked his arm over. It was bad but manageable. My poor little boy would be in pain but he’d live.

“Should we take him inside?” I asked Drake, not sure what we should do. I’d had first aid training but I didn’t like to leave my baby lying on the ground like that.

“No, I think we should leave him here until the ambulance comes baby. Why don’t you go in to get a towel to put on his head? Head wounds often bleed a lot but we should still try to get it to stop.” His voice sounded strained, almost distant, but I knew he was probably still feeling panicked. He was new to this being a dad and having kids do things that scared you. I was used to having an adventurous little boy but I was still feeling the fear and panic, Drake must be a bag of nerves!

Drake continued to hold his hand against Peter’s head and I ran into the house to get a cloth. I saw the lights of an ambulance in the front yard and went out to let the paramedics in. A tall woman with curly light brown hair and an athletic build walked in. Her eyes smiled at me with compassion as the man behind her helped to push in a stretcher.

They asked me questions about Peter and we went straight out to the back yard. There they talked to Peter, put a cervical collar on him, covered and braced his arm, and then gently got him onto a backboard. From there they lowered him onto the stretcher, strapped him in, and they zipped off after telling me where they were taking my child.

My head was spinning and I looked at Drake to steady me. He held his arms out to me and though I knew Peter was going to be alright I felt a sob bubble out of my chest.

“Shh, baby, he’s fine. Let’s get Petra and get to the hospital. Come on now, be my brave girl. You’re always so brave.” He looked down at me and for some reason I thought there was much more to those words than he meant but he pulled away and tugged me into the house.

Within 30 minutes we were sitting in Peter’s room, waiting to see the doctor. Hours later we were gawping at the doctor as he recommended surgery and told us Peter would be in the hospital for a couple of days at least. We thought the doctor would just put the bones back together, clean the wound, and stitch it up, but he was talking about infection in the bones and what strategy was best for children when pinning bones back together. He wanted to put screws in my baby!

Normally I’m calm, I’m rational, and I can be as cool as the proverbial cucumber but I all but lost it when the doctor left. Peter was distracted by something on the television, resilient as any child, but Drake heard me sobbing at the window and came to embrace me.

“I didn’t know it was that bad!” I turned in Drake’s arms and looked up into his eyes. “People talk about these things as though it’s nothing but this could get very bad for Peter. And he needs surgery? Surgery they’re going to do tonight? Oh Drake, I don’t know if I can handle this.”

“You can and you will.” He said with complete confidence as he put my head on his shoulder and stroked my hair. “Peter needs you to be strong and you will be.”

I cried for a moment but then Petra cried. Drake was right, I’d get through this, I thought as I headed for the baby. She needed feeding. I settled down to let her feed as Drake paced, looking at me with an anxious air. Poor man. Petra finally finished and snoozed against my bare chest, a light snore coming from between her tiny perfect lips.

“I know you’re probably going to say no but why don’t you head home, Bethany? Petra doesn’t need to be here with all of these germs and there’s nothing more we can do. You’ve signed all of the forms you need to sign and you’re exhausted. Why don’t you go home and take care of you and the baby, let me take care of our boy.” He looked hopeful like he really wanted me to leave him to handle this.

Maybe he sees this as a test of my faith in him? If I say no will he think I don’t trust him with my son? I looked over at Peter, sleeping now, and knew that I should probably stay. I even started to tell Drake I couldn’t leave but I looked back into his eyes and saw pleading. He needed to do this.

“Alright. But you call me every time something happens!” I pointed a finger at him with a stern look.

“Then you won’t be resting dear. But I’ll send you a text and definitely, call when he’s out of surgery, alright?”

“Okay. Well. Um, I guess I’ll get going then. Are you sure?” I hesitated; I couldn’t help it. That was my boy in that bed.

“Of course I am, Bethany. I’ll go home for some rest when you come in the morning because I know you’ll be here first thing. Now scoot” He made a shooing motion and I giggled.

“Let me get the baby ready, at least!” I laughed as I put Petra into her car seat and settled her in. The baby cooed up at me, happy from her feeding.

I went to him for a hug and a kiss before I moved to Peter. He was still asleep, his arm in a temporary brace, the wound covered in gauze. He looked so innocent, so sweet.

“See you later, little love. Be brave for Mommy!” I kissed his forehead once more, checked the laceration at the top of the right side of his head, and hummed in satisfaction. It wasn’t bleeding anymore and looked well enough for as fresh as it was.

“I’ll see you in the morning then Drake. Get something to eat while he’s in surgery, you’ll need your strength, hospitals are not easy places to sleep. I’m sure you know that but I had to say it.” We laughed and his lips brushed mine once more. “I’ll miss you, take care of my boy.”

Then I walked out of the room. It wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done but I did it. I don’t know how but I did. Drake needed this.