by Mercy B
Chapter 3
Week two…
By week two, I could no longer hide the discomfort I felt in the room that G was in. I wondered if there was another ward or unit she could be transferred to that was better suited for our small family. The unit that Gauge was currently in was on lockdown all the time. Family was only allowed to visit certain hours of the day, but that shit wasn’t cutting it for me. I wasn’t going anywhere, so I had my lawyer put in a special request for continuous visitation due to our circumstances.
Of course, that nigga wasn’t taking no for an answer, and Sophia and I had moved our asses in by the end of the first week. Being at home with her alone was too fucking realistic and challenging. I spent half of the first week in the family waiting room just so we didn’t face the music of our empty home.
“Aye. I need you to holler at the people up top again. I’m cool with the visitation and shit, but that ain’t no room for a family. I need her moved to a more comfortable setting, somewhere designed with family in mind.” I bit into the single fry in my hand as I cradled Sophia in the other. I was having lunch with my lawyer downstairs in the cafeteria to discuss the charges that had been falsified against me.
“One thing at a time, Mr. Law,” he warned.
“Nah. Fuck that other shit. You’ve told me what I needed to hear. They don’t have shit on me, and that’s final. I’ve got too much other shit to worry about right now. I don’t want to hear shit else about that case unless you’re telling me that they’re about to come pick my ass up, and I know you’ll never be telling me that, right?” I challenged him.
“Of course not.” He tugged at his suit coat. He was too easygoing about this case, which let me know that I had nothing to worry about.
“I’m good, right? No hard evidence and no witnesses, right?”
“Right.”
“You can appear on my behalf during court, right? Given the circumstances?”
“Yes. Your court date is tomorrow, and I’m expecting the charges to be dropped. They don’t have a fucking thing to hold you on.”
“Bet. Now, about this move. Gauge needs to be somewhere else. I need a fucking bed in the room with us. My back banging like I’m in my eighties or some shit.”
“I’ll get on that as soon as we finish this meal.”
“Shit I’m trying to hear.”
Nodding, I dipped another fry into the ketchup and tossed it into my mouth. That was music to my ears. I wasn’t worried about anything else. Those crackers didn’t have shit on me but were trying to hit me with a conspiracy charge. That was just as bad as the first charge, which was murder. But any judge in their right mind would toss the shit out because, per usual, they couldn’t make a case. It was a waste of all of our time, honestly.
Week three…
Three weeks down, and I was losing my fucking mind. Thankfully, we’d been moved to a more comfortable room with a let-out couch that transformed into a bed as well as room for all of Sophia’s baby gadgets. Every night, we made our little bed and lay in that motherfucker as if we didn’t have a home to go to. However, I refused to leave G, knowing she could wake up at any second. The question just kept riding on me. When would she wake up? Though I didn’t know when that moment was, I had to be there—Sophia and me. It wasn’t only because I wanted to but because she’d need me. It seemed as if everyone had skated out on her except her friend Sauni.
Sauni was experiencing health issues herself, related to her unborn, and had been placed on bed rest by her doctor. However, she called every fucking day to check on G as if her condition would change overnight. And it could. But it hadn’t, which was why I hated picking up her calls. Some days, I simply let it ring out because they reminded me of the fact that my baby hadn’t gotten her ass up.
As far as her father, he’d planted some lame ass excuse about not being able to handle his daughter in the state that she was in. According to her hoe ass mother, he was a fragile man, and Gauge’s failed health was a hard pill for him to swallow. I hadn’t heard it for myself; Sauni had relayed the messages after I asked her what was up with G’s old man.
He came to the hospital approximately once a week and never stayed for more than an hour. I gave him his time with his daughter and mine as well. During the times he was here, I took a small break and freed my fucking mind for a bit before returning, knowing that he wouldn’t stay for long.
Month one…
A month had gone by, which threw me for a surprise. I didn’t know that we’d be here for this long. No one had warned me. The only thing they kept saying was that G would wake up on her own. It seemed to me as if she needed some help, because she wasn’t in a rush or had no intentions of doing so any time soon.
“Gauge. Baby girl. What’s going on? I know you’re in there somewhere listening to me. Come back to us.”
Each night, I made myself comfortable at her bedside in the chair that was provided to have a chat with her. Though she couldn’t talk back, I still conversed with her. I’d been informed that it was stimulating and could speed up the recovery. According to some, people in comas could hear their loved ones when they spoke to them.
“Sophia is growing before my eyes. She’s not as tiny as she was when she first came home. Baby girl isn’t missing a meal.”
It was important that I updated her on our daughter’s progress and everything going on in her little world. She was missing the most precious moments, and it was eating me up inside to know that we’d never get them back. I had a camera roll full of them, but I wondered if they would ever be enough.
Month two…
Another month came and went with no signs of progress being made. Gauge was being stubborn at this point. I was convinced. The point she was trying to prove, I had no idea what it was, but I wasn’t here for it.
“When she’s ready and her body is rested, she will wake up. Her mobility will not be accessible for some time, and we will need to arrange for rehabilitation. Everything will be different, but at least she’ll be awake.”
Her doctor seemed to repeat the same line each time I saw his ass. That shit was blowing me. I didn’t need her to wake when she wanted to. I wanted her ass to wake up immediately. It wasn’t that much rest in the world.
Okay, I was a bit selfish, but who wouldn’t be? Not only did I want her for my personal gratification but that of our daughter’s as well. The most contact they’d made was from me laying her on Gauge’s chest to rest on nights she was fussy while in bed. It put her little ass right to sleep. I wanted to be sure that she knew her mommy’s scent even if she didn’t know her touch.
As far as her voice, I accessed Gauge’s social media and cellphone feed to let Sophia hear her. I’d even read that a child became accustomed to their mother’s voice in the womb. They’d spent over nine months together, so I wasn’t doubting that she had stored it somewhere in her little brain.
Month three…
By the third month, I was losing my shit. I needed G to wake her ass up and quit playing with a nigga. Her absence was unbearable, and I wasn’t sure how I’d been able to manage this long all while caring for our infant child. We’d made the hospital our home, sleeping and waking on the same damn rough mattress every day.
I’d learned to change my first diaper in the hospital, made my first bottle, pulled my first all-nighter with a fussy newborn, and a heap of other shit. In some strange way, I never felt as if I was actually alone with G in the room. Her presence made me feel as if she had a watchful eye over me and was counting on me to do shit the right way. Many days, I’d only gotten by because of the tiny voice of hers in the back of my head rooting me on.
“G, baby.” I clasped her hand inside of mine. “You’ve got to wake up, love. I’m fucked up, seeing you here in this bed every day. It’s time for you to come home. Shit. Time for us to go home. We need to be out this bitch within the next two weeks, or I’m going to lose my fucking sanity. This ain’t no place for none of us, and I’m ready to be out.”
“I know you were tired, but you’ve rested long enough. I need you. Sophia needs you. Shit, I need a break. That little girl is my heart, but I’d be damned if single-parenting ain’t kicking my ass. Shit harder than making my first mil.” Chuckling, I recalled the shit that I’d gone through with my baby girl since they handed her over. I wouldn’t trade it for the world, but that shit was difficult.
“I’m just going to lay right here for a minute and catch some Z’s.” Standing, I lowered the arm of the bed and climbed inside, sure not to interfere with the cords or machines she was plugged up to. Quickly, a few Z’s transformed to an entire night, and I got the best sleep I’d gotten since we started this journey.
Chapter 4
Gauge
The beeping machine notifying the world of my existence amongst them rattled my nerves as much as the inconsistency in his voice as Sosa spoke to me each night. I’d heard every word, felt every emotion, and drowned in both of our sorrows. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to honor his request.
My body had involuntarily shut down after giving birth to my daughter, and for the last month, it had failed to revive itself when I knew that the strength was within me. However, for the last few nights, I’d been pushing myself harder and trying my best to simply open my eyes. While my mind was fully aware and capable, my body was taking its generous time responding to the arousal.
As God may have it, it was the sweet melody I’d heard each day as I rested that summoned my strength and presence in the room. While Sosa slept on the sofa beside my bed, Sophia began cooing, as she did each night when alone. There wasn’t any crying, and neither was there fussing. Baby girl lulled herself to sleep in the wee hours of the morning with no assistance.
I could feel the dryness of my face become lubricated from the salted liquid slowly trickling from my eyelids and running down my cheek. Frustration grew heavy as I tried forcing my eyes open for the hundredth time, or so it felt. There was nothing I wanted to do more than lay my eyes upon my beautiful daughter and assure her that she wasn’t alone, not as long as I was living and breathing. I would forever be here for her.
Come on, Gauge.
You can do this.
I tried combatting the frustration with positive thoughts. It would get me nowhere, attempting to bash myself for something that was beyond my control, so I chilled and tried a different approach. My strength was nearly nonexistent, but I was desperate to find some. Somewhere.
All you need to do is lift your lids.
You’ve got this.
I know you do.
Just lift you lids.
Over and over, I coached myself through the process. Unlike other nights, where I’d let the pain of my condition lead my efforts, I attempted to put those thoughts behind me. For once, I was optimistic about my odds. If I didn’t make the move tonight, tomorrow would be the one.
See. You’re batting your lashes.
There was progress, progress that I hadn’t made since I first woke mentally. I wasn’t sure how long it had been since my mind had found its way back to me, but it had been some time, I figured, because it felt like an eternity. Or maybe it was the fact that I was immobile, practically unresponsive, and the days seemed more sluggish than ever.
A little more strength.
Okay. Yes. Keep going.
Yes. You’re almost there.
Gauge, you’re doing it!
You’re opening your eyes.
And there it was. More darkness. Finally, my eyes were open, and I began blinking away. Yet I was still robbed of my vision. The room was dark, aside from the single light shining under the door from the hallway. Frustration peaked again. This wasn’t very helpful on my end.
On cue, Sophia’s cooing transformed to a full-blown cry. Screaming at the top of her little lungs, she beckoned for her father’s attention. Always at her beck and call, I could hear Sosa jump from the couch and roll the bassinet that he’d brought up over to his side.
“Hey. Hey. Mama. What’s up with all of this fussing? You’re going to wake the entire hospital.”
His voice was agonizing. Yes, I appreciated his presence for the simple fact that it meant my daughter was at my side, but I wanted him gone, locked away, buried in a cell, and forgotten. I wanted him to be punished for his actions and burn in hell when his time came.
His presence was a part of my delayed recovery. The thought of waking up to his face was keeping me bound to my condition, a condition of which I was unaware of and hoped to be filled in on soon. I could honestly admit that my attempts were always set off or dulled by thoughts of him, the sound of his voice, or the feel of his hands touching me. It was all repulsive in my mind.
“You’re not hungry. I just fed your stinky butt.” Sosa was groggy but alert. “Your diaper is dry, so what’s up? What’s the issue?”
I was so jealous. He’d spent so much time with her and learned everything without me. He knew her like the back of his hands, and that made my stomach turn. I wanted to be the one up late nights and complaining about Sophia fussing for no reason. I wanted it to be me who had the privilege of holding her and kissing her until we were both tired.
It was Sosa who didn’t deserve the privileges he’d been given. Yet I was the one imprisoned in my own body, and he was free to love and cherish our daughter as I wanted to since the day that I found out I was pregnant with her. Our time together had been prolonged and stretched much further than the nine-month mark, and I was ready for it to be over.
Strength mounted from unknown sources as I found the power to turn my neck, a movement that wasn’t possible before this very second. There was a sharp pain that I couldn’t cry out from due to the tube protruding from my neck. This entire predicament was unbearable, to say the least. Closing my eyes, I continued to listen to my daughter and her father interact as I lay in pain that no one was aware of as a fresh batch of tears ran the length of my face. It was simple. I wanted to be better and for the pain to be over.
“Oh. You think it is time to play, little girl? Is that it?” Giggles from Sophia stirred strings in my heart.
Seconds later, I could hear Sosa maneuvering around the room before a small light illuminated a portion of the room. I figured it was the restroom after I began to hear the sound of him relieving his bladder. My suspicions were confirmed as he continued talking to our daughter. I remembered seeing funny posts about how mother’s time in the bathroom wasn’t their own after having children. Sosa’s bathroom privileges seemed to have been revoked as well. Moments passed as I listened to him clean his hands and reenter the room without shutting off the light.
“Let’s see. How about some tummy time? We can get these three blankets laid out and your activity mat. We’re going to have to turn it down a notch because folk sleep in this bitch. Not that I give a fuck, but we can’t be getting put out, Soph. They’re doing us a favor by letting us stay every day and night. So we’ve got to chill, aight?” he questioned as if she could respond.
Sosa was so damned good with her that it was baffling, and I wondered if she’d even adjust to the changes that would be made once I was up and well. He was all she knew currently. My father wasn’t at the hospital often, and I hadn’t heard my mother’s voice either, which wasn’t surprising. It was all him. It was always him. I said a silent prayer, hoping that Sophia could adapt to me, her mother, intruding on her and her father’s duo.
Once he had our baby girl all settled on her play mat, the dreaded came to fruition. His scent was as potent as it was the first day I met him, only this time, there were no traces of marijuana smoke. Desperately, I wanted to close my eyes and pretend that I was still unconscious, but I was tired of my circumsta
nces, and I’d worked overtime just to open these damn eyes of mine. As he approached me, I batted the tears that were threatening to fall.
By now, my face was pooled. His handsome face appeared and nearly stole my heart again. He was different. So much about him had changed. His beard was untamed and unruly, possibly needing to be cut for weeks now. His hair had grown out on his head but remained thick and wavy. His signature color, red, adorned his body as he leaned over in utter shock at the sight before him. Stunned into silence, Sosa could only stare at me.
Just as I had, I witnessed him bat his own eyes as the emotion that he felt, which refused to come from his lips, slipped from his eyes. I’d never, in all of my years, seen a man shed a single tear. And here was Sosa, the toughest human I’d ever encountered, basically weeping in silence for my recovery.
First there was one, and then there was another tear that fell onto my chest before fading into the sheets spreading across my body. For Christ’s sake, I could admit that I wanted to caress his cheek and assure him that I’d returned. Seeing him so vulnerable and so open to me made my heart speed and threaten to burst from my chest. But I couldn’t physically comfort him. I didn’t have the strength, which I was thankful of for once.
This wasn’t my Sosa, not the one I’d loved on even when he didn’t understand how to love himself. This was a monster in sheep’s clothing. He was the cause of Brielle’s untimely death and the reason I felt the abyss her absence had left since the day we got the call. He didn’t deserve my reassurance, my love, or my sympathy. He didn’t deserve me.
