by Tim Leeming
The last few words of the Monkee’s “Daydream Believer” floated through the dark room as Jeremy Kendall blinked back the drug induced sleepiness from his eyes to see the dimly lighted red numbers on the digital clock indicate 5:30 a.m. The drugs were prescribed by the doctor to enable the distraught 39 year old to rest. After all, it had been four weeks with almost no sleep and even the exhaustion of what he was experiencing would not bring on the blessed sleep his mind and body needed. As he lay there under the blankets, cold even though the temperature in the house was in the 70s, as he had forgotten to lower the air conditioner before going to bed, his mind was attempting to make sense of where he was. Slowly, as the mist of the strong medication allowed him to focus, Jeremy became aware of deep pain in his heart and soul. There is no medication that can be prescribed for such intense pain.
The darkness of the room hid the tears as they rolled from his eyes and his sobs made no sound as he tried to control his emotions. Jeremy was not accustomed to feelings of inadequacy in any area of his life. He is, after all, a trial lawyer with an outstanding reputation in court as well as an astute individual who has build his legal practice into a model of efficiency while continuing to prevail in court by whatever means, honorable or not, as long as the win was accomplished. The end always justified the means. The big home and the high priced vehicles, together with a vacation home on the coast were paid for by his ability to outsmart, out maneuver, or otherwise win decisions which resulted in word of mouth endorsements to anyone needing an attorney to pursue a verdict. Jeremy was consumed with not only winning cases, but also destroying others with his expertise. This day, however, was not about court rooms or offices with his staff buzzing with activity. This day was about something much deeper than any opinion ever decided by the Supreme Court. Jeremy looked at the clock and saw that it was now 5:47 a.m. He needed to get up now!
Jeremy almost stumbled to the bathroom and fumbled for the light switch. When the glare of the bathroom light fixture illuminated his face, he drew back in shock as he could no longer recognize the man he had been four weeks ago. As he stared into the mirror at the stubble of the beard present for lack of shaving the past three days, he trembled as he saw the emptiness in his eyes. As though a flash of lighting, the events of the past four weeks slammed into his consciousness with such force that he almost fell to the floor. As he sat on the side of the bathtub, he began to relive what had been a nightmare of existence since that Wednesday afternoon as he walked out of court, turned on his cell phone and was notified that he had two missed calls from a number he did not recognize.
Assuming that the unrecognized number may be a potential client who would further enrich his bank account, Jeremy dialed the number which was almost immediately answered by a female voice advising that he had reached the County Sheriff’s Department. Odd, he thought, as he has dealt with the Sheriff’s Department on many cases when overly zealous deputies would arrest someone on a charge Jeremy could easily have overturned in court. When he identified himself to the young lady on the other end of the line, he was told that he needed to proceed to the City Hospital Emergency Room immediately as a vehicle, identified as being a Lexus SUV registered in his name, had been involved in a serious accident and the female driver and teenage male occupant had been transported by ambulance from the accident scene to the hospital.
Jeremy immediately realized that his son, Joey, 15, no, in fact turning 16 that day, was playing in a soccer tournament with his high school team that afternoon and that, in fact, Jeremy was supposed to have been at the game. The tournament was on the office scheduling calendar, but the court case ran longer than anticipated and with the euphoria of winning a verdict in a case not believed winnable, Jeremy had forgotten about the tournament. Well, maybe not forgotten, but watching his son play soccer was not nearly as satisfying to Jeremy as soaking up the admiration of the court officials as they commented as to his handling of the case. Jeremy always was one to feed on compliments and praise.
Jeremy clicked the “end call” icon on his phone and reached for his keys. He now realized the shock of what he was just told by the Sheriff’s deputy and couldn’t immediately remember where he had parked his silver BMW. He went into the court house garage and pressed the “panic button” on the key fob several times until finally he saw the lights flashing and could hear the horn sounding the alarm a couple rows over from where he was walking. Almost in a trance he settled into the driver’s seat and placed the key into the ignition. The sound of the BMW engine was always music to his ears but this time Jeremy didn’t notice the sound. The same FM classic rock station that was his favorite was playing Neil Diamond singing “Red Red Wine”.
Entering the street from the parking garage, Jeremy made the left turn onto Oak Street and began to pick up speed as he wanted to cover the two miles to the hospital as quickly as he could. The light at Barr Street was red and his fingers tapped the steering wheel impatiently as he waited for the change. This was one of the longest red lights in town and his impatience at being stopped by the light was interrupted by the musical ring tone of his cell phone. “Hello”, he says to which the response was “Jeremy, this is Coach Trammell. I was behind your wife when the accident happened and I’m at the hospital now. You need to get here as soon as possible”.
“I’m on the way” Jeremy said, as he looked both ways and proceeded through the intersection although the light was still red. There was extreme urgency in Coach Trammel’s voice and although Jeremy didn’t know the Coach that well, he did know that Joey had been playing for Trammel even before making the high school team. Jeremy also knew, from what his wife Laura had told him, and all that Joey ever shared, that Trammell was not one to get excited, upset, or otherwise show emotion of any kind other than the sheer joy in victory, or a slight displeasure in losing. Now there was an urgency inside Jeremy. He gripped the leather steering wheel tightly and turned on his emergency flashers as he began to speed toward the hospital.
Within five minutes, he was turning into the emergency entrance to City Hospital. He could quickly determine there were no parking places open in the small lot for emergency parking so he pulled into one of the empty ambulance spots and got out of the car. The Hospital Security guard told him he could not park there but Jeremy ignored the uniformed rent-a-cop as he sprinted toward the emergency room entrance.
Jeremy was running by the time he reached the automatic doors and he actually bounced off the glass door as it did not open quickly enough to match the speed of his movement. He stepped back and moved in front of the “eye” and the door slid open with the “swishing sound” almost indiscernible in all the noise of an incoming ambulance with siren blasting. Jeremy ignored everything as he looked around the emergency room for the person he would need to see to inquire about his wife and son. Before he could determine the direction he needed to go, he felt a hand on his shoulder. As he turned, he saw Coach Trammell, with tears in his eyes, looking as if his world had come apart.
“Jeremy” Coach Trammell said, “let’s sit down”.
“I want to see Laura and Joey” Jeremy almost shouted. No one seemed to notice though because the cacophony of voices of the crowded emergency room drowned out most conversation.
“Come with me”, Coach Trammell said, as he took Jeremy by the elbow to lead him to a private conference room reserved usually for doctors to confer with family members.
A feeling of deep dread caused Jeremy’s knees to feel weak and he almost stumbled. Coach Trammell took him a more firm grip on Jeremy’s elbow and led him to the small room with a small table and three chairs. Coach Trammell directed Jeremy to the chair closest to the wall and the Coach closed the door softly and then sat in the chair facing Jeremy, looking directly into Jeremy’s eyes.
“Jeremy” said Coach Trammell, “it’s really bad. I can tell you what I know now, or we can wait for your pastor to arrive. I have already called him”.
“Pastor to arrive? What the hell are you talking about Trammell? Pastor? Why do I need Pastor Johnson here? I haven’t been to church in months. I know Laura and Joey go almost every Sunday but I’m usually busy preparing for Monday court hearings. What is going on? Tell me right now.”.
There was a knock on the door and Coach Trammell stood up to open the door. A tall man, appearing to be in his mid forties, wearing glasses thick enough to be used by Boy Scouts to start fires using sunlight, entered the room. He extended his hand to Jeremy and said “I am Chaplain Bradford. I am Head Chaplain at the hospital. I am sorry for your loss and I’m here to let you know that the hospital staff and I are here to help you in any way we can”.
Feeling as though he had just been hit by a bullet, Jeremy sank back into the chair in which he had been sitting as he stared at the Chaplain, then Coach Trammell and then back at the Chaplain. Loss? What loss? No one had mentioned loss. All he knew was there had been an accident in which Laura and Joey were involved. Now he is hearing the word “loss”.
Chaplain Bradford began to speak very softly and deliberately as he said “a car driven by a robbery suspect ran a red light and hit the SUV your wife was driving. It hit on her side and from what I am told, she was killed instantly. Your son is in emergency surgery at the moment but things do not look good. He has extensive injuries, internal injuries and broken bones and head injury”.
Jeremy was now as pale as new fallen snow as he tried to grasp what he was being told. Laura was dead. Joey was severely injured. He could not even ask for details. He could not even think. His usual quick mind was numb and he was, for a very rare instant in his life, at a loss for words.
Coach Trammell excused himself and left the room. Chaplain Bradford sat across from Jeremy and remained quiet as if he too was without words. Two rapid knocks on the door and Coach Trammell was back with a cup of water. He handed the cup to Jeremy and said he had just heard from Pastor Johnson and he would arrive within minutes. Almost as if by magic, as Coach Trammell spoke those words, there was another knock on the door and there was the Pastor.
“Hi Frank” Jeremy almost sobbed as he surprised himself at being able to recall Pastor Johnson’s first name. After all, Jeremy was not into church, pastoral visits, or much of anything to do with religion. Law was Jeremy’s religion, and he wasn’t thinking the Ten Commandments. Money, and what it could buy, was Jeremy’s God. But, at the moment, he found himself willing to extend an invitation to Pastor Johnson to sit.
Coach Trammell and Chaplain Bradford excused themselves as Jeremy and the Pastor sat down to talk.
“Jeremy”, said Pastor Johnson, “I have talked with the Emergency room Chief Surgeon and he told me that Laura was killed instantly and never suffered pain. Joey was unconscious from the impact and has not recovered as yet. I understand Joey has broken ribs, a puncture lung, left arm broken in two places and the left leg crushed by the impact. The head injury is the most severe injury and procedures are ongoing right now to relieve some of the pressure on the brain.”
Jeremy listened to each word as if each word was a pronouncement of doom he was not ready to receive, nor was he able to comprehend. Laura, his high school sweetheart, whom he married during his first year of law school and who had supported his every move although he was more married to a law book, was gone. Joey, the son Jeremy had virtually ignored for the past 10 years, other than the “required” yearly family vacation time at the beach house, was in surgery and Jeremy didn’t even know the possibility of recovery. In fact, Jeremy didn’t know anything.
Pastor Johnson excused himself as he went out to attempt to get more information. Jeremy sat completely erect, completely motionless, with his eyes in a blank stare directly ahead at the pale green wall of the small room. There was no thought process now. There was no reason to think. Suddenly, his cell phone once more intoned the musical ring tone which would have brought a smile to his face as he anticipated a new client but this time he immediately turned off the phone without even looking at the incoming call number. It didn’t matter who was calling. He couldn’t talk. He could not speak.
After what seemed like hours but had actually been only 15 minutes, Pastor Johnson returned with a scrubs clad young man, appearing to be no more than 20, looking almost as young as Joey actually. The young man introduced himself as Dr. Calvin and said that he was part of the surgical team working on Joey.
Immediately Jeremy asked “how is Joey? Can I see him? How bad are his injuries?”
Dr. Calvin said nothing for almost a full minute. Then he looked directly into Jeremy’s eyes as he said “it does not look good. Joey lost a lot of blood but the major concern is the head injury which is causing severe brain swelling. We have drilled into the skull to alleviate pressure, but we don’t know how that will go. Too early to tell. We should have Joey out of surgery within the next two hours and he will be placed in ICU. I will come for you when he is moved. You may wait in the doctor’s lounge which I’m sure will be more comfortable for you”.
Dr. Calvin opened the door and led Jeremy into the crowded emergency room and across the main concourse to an elevator. He pressed the button for the sixth floor and the door opened almost immediately. He motioned Jeremy into the elevator and entered behind him. As the door closed and the elevator started its ascent, Dr. Calvin said that someone would be in to see him about arrangements for his wife. With a start, Jeremy realized that he not only had Joey to consider but also must handle funeral arrangements for his beloved Laura. If only he could turn back time, he would make time for Laura. He would make time for Laura and Joey. Time for vacation at the beach house. Time for watching his son play soccer. Time for church functions with Laura as she so often begged him to attend. The sudden realization that he would be in church soon for Laura’s funeral made him sick on his stomach and although he tried to hold it back, the Chinese food he had for lunch was expelled directly on Dr. Calvin’s scrubs.
Trying to apologize was no good. Jeremy couldn’t even speak. He slumped against the wall as Dr. Calvin reached over to steady him on his feet. The elevator door opened and Dr. Calvin helped Jeremy out to a chair just outside the elevator door. Dr. Calvin called a nurse over to ask her to get housekeeping to the elevator to clean up the mess inside. Dr. Calvin blocked the elevator so it had to remain in position until it was cleaned.
Dr. Calvin helped Jeremy to stand and led him over to a more comfortable chair, almost a recliner, and asked him to sit and remain there until he returned with a report on Joey. Dr. Calvin called a nurse over, Nurse Nancy as she was introduced, and he told Nurse Nancy to watch over Jeremy for a bit. Jeremy attempted to utter his thanks but no words came out. It was as if his voice had been taken from him as his Laura had been.
How long had he been sitting there? Jeremy looked at the gold Rolex on his wrist to see it was 8:30 p.m. He had been at the hospital now almost 4 hours. His trance was interrupted by a tall man with silver hair and wire rimmed glasses calling his name.
“Mr. Kendall, I am Matt Brown of Metropolitan Funeral Home. I have been asked by your Pastor to speak with you about arrangements for your wife”. The words didn’t register. After standing there a few minutes, Mr. Brown handed Jeremy a business card and said, as he walked away, “you can call me in the morning”.
The next realization of time for Jeremy was when a much older man than Dr. Calvin appeared before him, in scrubs as well, and obviously looking exhausted.
“Mr. Kendall, I am Dr. Phillips. I have transferred your son to post-op and you should be able to see him within the next 30 minutes. You need to be aware that he is in a deep coma and in critical condition. The chances of his recovery are less than 10%”.
Jeremy couldn’t absorb what he was hearing. But he waited, and some 45 minutes after Dr. Phillips’ visit, Jeremy was standing before a glass panel looking into a room of cold white in which where were several medical machines and several feet of tubes and wires, all attached to what appeared to be a human form under a sheet. Looking carefully, Jeremy could see Joey’s nose, lips, and chin as everything else was covered by the sheet. Joey’s head was bandaged to the point the bandages appeared as a football helmet. Jeremy could see the lights on the medical equipment blinking and could see the “lifeline” slowly fluctuate up and down indicating there was some respiratory and cardiac action.
Suddenly, Jeremy realized he was sitting on the side of the tub in just his pajamas and he was no longer looking into that room. He could remember Laura’s funeral, but not many details about it. The house still reeked of flowers that had died but he had not thrown out. He got up from the tub side and walked down the hall to the kitchen to make some coffee. As he placed the filter in the coffee maker he saw the pile of unopened cards on the kitchen table. Cards, junk mail, bills, whatever. He simply had not felt like opening the mail.
As the coffee began its slow drip, the realization of what today was to bring impacted Jeremy with such force he felt as though his heart would stop in mid beat. It had been four weeks since the accident and Joey had not made any discernible progress toward recovery. There was no improvement, minimal brain activity, and very irregular heartbeat. The Chief of Hospital Operations had told Jeremy two days ago that today would be the day that a decision must be made as whether or not life support should be stopped. Jeremy had no one with whom to consult. His parents had been killed in a plane crash when Joey was 5 and Laura’s parents had divorced and had little or no contact with the family at all. They would not know Joey.
Jeremy had thought of calling Pastor Johnson several times but felt as though showing such a weakness would lead to the church making demands upon him he was not willing to consider. Praying? Not Jeremy. That was not his style.
Although he didn’t remember having his coffee, or the drive to the hospital, Jeremy found himself in the ICU room where Joey had been since surgery. The lights blinked, the machines made a soft almost purring like sound as he looked at his son. He knew this would be the last time he could look at Joey. Tears filled his eyes as he pulled up the one chair in the small room and sat down beside his son. Thoughts raced through his mind as to all the missed opportunities to have told Joey how much he was loved. The times he could have, and should have spent with Joey. But it was too late now. All that was left for Jeremy to do was to say goodbye to the almost lifeless form under the sheets and go to the doctor and tell him to disconnect the life support. It didn’t matter anymore. The pain was so intense, the guilt so prominent, that feeling anything else was beyond possibility.
Jeremy picked up Joey’s left hand to hold as he prepared for the end. He looked at the relatively small hand with the long, almost exquisite fingers. Joey bit his fingernails, but after four weeks it was undetectable that he did. This was the first time since the accident that Jeremy had actually touched his son. He could not bring himself to do it before. He squeezed the warm hand and raised his eyes to Joey’s face. He had his Mom’s very dark hair, what little bit hung from underneath the bandages, and he always complained about how curly it was, another of his mom’s traits. Joey’s eyes were closed so Jeremy could only try to remember how dark those eyes were, almost black although Joey preferred to call them dark brown. His lips were not red as they were usually but that was due to the reduced blood flow, at least that much Jeremy knew.
Jeremy’s eyes were filled with tears as he squeezed the hand of his only child one last time and prepared to turn and find the medical professional to disconnect the equipment. Wait! Is it his imagination or did Joey’s eye lids just flutter slightly?
“Joey”, Jeremy said softly. There was no response so Jeremy was assured he had imagined the movement in the eyelids. As he prepared to release his son’s hand for the last time, he felt a slight, ever so slight squeeze. Again he looked at Joey’s face and he saw the eyelids flutter. Without question.
“Doctor” Jeremy screamed, “Doctor, come here please, quickly”.
The staff nurse rushed into the room questioning the outburst.
“Look at his eyes” exclaimed Jeremy. Even as he spoke the indication of respiration and heartbeat increased. Joey opened his eyes fully and starred at Jeremy. Unspoken feelings were transmitted as though my cell phone messages between father and son.
Doctors and nurses scrambled around the room for over an hour. Finally, a young doctor told Jeremy, “your son has a Traumatic Brain Injury. I can’t make a prognosis at this time.”
Jeremy looked for Pastor Johnson’s business card for his number. Time to talk. Time to pray.
________
I am an individual who reads anything I can get my hands on and have always wanted to try my hand at creative writing. I appreciate the opportunity presented by Here Women Talk to submit an entry in the contest. I am a retired 65 year old male who thinks he is still in his 20s. Unfortunately, my body doesn’t agree with that statement! I have never entered a writing contest but the attached story is the beginning of what may become a further endeavor, depending upon how it is received.
