by J. J. McAvoy
“SHE JUST WOKE UP!” he hollered at me. “Don’t put more on her right now! She needs to get stronger.”
Apparently, she wasn’t hearing him, because she drew the bed closer, already trying to shift herself over despite her broken leg and shattered hand.
“Helen…,” he whispered, his shoulders dropping when he looked at her.
But she just looked at me and smiled, managing to muffle out the words. “Help…please.”
I stepped up to him, and I knew on any other day, he would have slapped the hell out of me. But he was tired, and Helen wasn’t helping. The moment he found out what happened, I thought he was having a stroke. He started to pack, screaming at me that we needed to go. His eyes were dead. Then he completely zoned out for the whole ride over, and it was only when I called Sedric after the dozenth time that I finally understood why he couldn’t speak. The fear that goes through you when you hear that your loved one was hurt…was dying…had died. It had the ability to leave you soulless.
Grabbing onto her wire lines and moving the mover first, I lifted her off the bed and onto the other bed. She sat up, and I honestly wondered if her pain medication was so strong she was high or if she had just blocked out the pain like me. She reached to grab her IV and wheel it all with us, but our mother grabbed it.
She didn’t lift her head, but she just walked alongside Helen, who looked like she was trying to comfort Mom.
Because, again, nothing made sense in this world anymore.
It was a short walk across the hall. After all, this whole level of the hospital was emptied for our family. With each step, I felt my heart start to pound…dread sinking in, and I pushed it back.
“Helen?” our grandmother whispered, getting out of her chair and moving to us.
In the corner of the room like a stone was Ethan. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just sat there, staring at Wyatt’s body, which had every fucking machine possible hooked up to it. Two men I admired, that I was often jealous of, but loved and wanted to impress…both of them were broken and useless. It didn’t make sense.
“Wyatt,” I heard her painful voice call out to him. I wheeled her as close as possible until their beds were side by side. She reached over, put her hand on his cheek. “Wyatt…baby, it’s me. Wake up.”
The “baby” didn’t go unnoticed by my Uncle Neal and Aunt Mina, nor by Sedric. They all looked to us, confused. But what could we say?
“Wyatt…you have to wake up,” she said, shaking him. “Wyatt, you’re not gone. Wake.”
With each passing word, she seemed to get more panicked.
“Helen.” Our grandmother reached out, stroking his hand. “He’s gone.”
“NO!” Helen screamed at her. This time she grabbed onto Wyatt for dear life and shook him. “WYATT! WYATT! WAKE UP! WAKE UP RIGHT NOW! DO YOU HEAR ME! PLEASE?”
She started to sob and didn’t know where her strength came from, but she was able to get on her knees. Her screams got louder and louder until I couldn’t bear it anymore. Turning around, I tried to leave, but my father stood in my way. He grabbed onto my arm, squeezing tightly.
“You did this to her.” He sneered at me. “You wheeled her into her worst nightmare, and now she’s in pain. You won’t even feel your own pain. How dare you make her deal with this now. You didn’t help. You didn’t do anything but break you sister faster. Don’t you dare run! Stand here and listen as she screams and watch as we can’t do shit to help her.”
He let go, his shoulder brushing past mine as he walked forward, and I couldn’t help but flinch as her cries met my ears.
“He’s not dead! Get up, Mommy! Help me! Please! Wyatt, come please! AHHHH! WYATT! Oh God no. Please!”
HELEN – AGE TWENTY-ONE
It looked like there were a million and one diamond stars in the night sky, and the longer I watched the sky, the more I felt like I was looking into heaven.
“They’re beautiful, are they?” he asked, moving to sit next to me.
I nodded, not talking him.
He sighed. “Helen, don’t you think we’re too old for the silent treatment?”
I still didn’t reply. In fact, to distract myself, I started to count the stars, knowing it wasn’t possible, but it would at least help to distract me. And he kept quiet. I knew he was waiting for me to get annoyed at him being near me while being quiet, too, but I wasn’t giving in this time.
I’m not sure how many minutes went by, but by his forth tongue click, I knew he’d had enough.
“Helen!”
“What!” I sat up, turning to glare at his stupid handsome face. “What do you want, Wyatt? Go! Do whatever you want! Move to Boston for all I care, leave me alone here, whatever!”
“I’m not leaving you alone, you can come, too!” he hollered back at me, and frustrated, I smacked his chest. “Ouch!”
“You want me to pick up everything I’m doing here to just hang out with you in Boston?” He really didn’t care about anyone but himself.
“You want me to stay in Chicago just so I can hang out with you!”
“You’re from Chicago! I’m not asking you to pick anything. I’m saying stay where you belong.”
He cracked his head to the side and clenched his fist. “Why is this where I belong? Why can’t I decide where I belong on my own without everyone else trying to force me!”
“Because this is home. This is where your family is.” Why didn’t he get it? This was where our memories were. Where we were surrounded by everything we could possibly need. “Why are you so dead set on leaving?” On leaving me?
He hung his head, brushing his hands through his hair.
“I want to know who I am beyond this family, Helen. I want to find myself by myself. Why is that such a bad thing? Why is everyone trying to fault me for finding my own path instead of walking the one they laid out for me? Isn’t this what we’re supposed to do?”
“Okay, then go,” I muttered.
“I don’t want to go and then not talk to you because you’re upset with me.”
Everything always had to be on his terms. “Fine, go, I won’t be mad. I’ll call when I have time and fill you in.”
He didn’t say anything, so I looked toward him. He was giving me a face.
“What?”
“When you have time?” he repeated in disgust. “What am I, an ex-boyfriend you’re trying to get rid of?”
If only!
“What more do you want from me!? Jeez, you’re so bloody needy,” I muttered.
He laughed, bumping his shoulders into mine. “Just want to make sure my best friend isn’t bailing on me.”
“Says the best friend who is bailing.”
“How did we become best friends anyway?” he questioned and pulled out a Twix bar, opened the wrapper, and gave me one Twix stick before taking the other.
“You were jealous of me.”
“Say what?” he questioned, trying not laugh.
Taking a bite of the Twix, I nodded, chewing and swallowing before continuing. “You hated how close me and Dona were getting. You felt like I was taking your twin away, and so you kept making me play with you instead…since Dona wanted more girlfriends. But then we had more fun doing things Dona didn’t want to do. Dona then got jealous and made me spend more time with her. And back and forth and back and forth, like that.”
“I don’t remember that,” he said seriously, taking a bite. The look on my face must have been hilarious because he couldn’t stop laughing.
“Shut up!”
“Sorry. You just looked like you wanted to rip my head off.” He snickered and then took a deep breath. “Dona and I must have been hard on you.”
“You were the more difficult twin,” I admitted, taking another bite.
“What, why?”
“Way too complicated for me to even begin to explain.” Actually, it wasn’t. I liked him. So being around him all the time took much more effort than it did with Dona.
“Well, anyway, just promise you’ll at l
east visit this difficult twin as much as you can? I don’t like being separated from you,” he said, and then a grin spread across his face. “I feel like Dona will make you forget all about me just to spite me.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a competition between you both for me even though I’ve done nothing?” I questioned, looking him over.
“Helen, you’ve done a lot for us. For me at least. I might not always say it. But I’m thankful. I couldn’t imagine not having you in my life, which is why you must come for a visit. You can leave your cooking at home, though.” He laughed at his only little joke. I punched his shoulder, and he laughed harder, reaching out and grabbing on me. “Don’t you forget about me or I swear I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” I snapped, trying to push him away.
He paused and said, “Or I’ll die of a broken, lonely heart.”
I stared at him, and he stared at me. Then we both broke out laughing. Finally, when we both calmed down, I held out my hand, and we shook.
“You better not forget about me, either, or I’ll die of the same thing.”
“Deal.” He took my hand, shaking as if he were trying to yank my arm off.
HELEN – NOW
“Wake up,” I whispered, lying next him even though I was too tired to move. I couldn’t even look at him anymore. He wasn’t there, and yet all I could do was keep speaking. “Or I’ll die of a broken, lonely heart…I’m not joking. Wake up, please. My parents are going to be so sad if I die, too. I don’t want to die, Wyatt, but you can’t leave me here…why are you always leaving me?”
“Helen?”
I looked over. It was my mom. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I didn’t like looking at her, so I just rested my head back down next to him and touched his arm.
We were so happy.
They ruined it.
Everything was gone now.
The more I thought about it, the more I wanted someone to blame, and the only other person I could think to blame was the pitiful man in the corner, who used to be someone worth a damn. I didn’t want to blame myself. I couldn’t blame Wyatt. So Ethan was the best one to blame.
“He figured it out,” I whispered, staring at him, but he didn’t lift his head. “He figured out you were in the walls.”
For the first time, he shifted. Dazed, he looked up at us.
“He said he needed to talk to you. He was so happy. He asked me to help find you, and we had looked everywhere. And then he said you followed the rules. That no one loved this family more than you. He beat himself up for you. He wanted you to forgive him. But you…you wouldn’t, so he had to do it by himself. You left him by himself. It wasn’t his fault you lost Ivy, but you still blamed him and left him to die.”
“I…” He couldn’t even speak.
“He might have left Chicago, but he never left you.” The tears came even though I wanted him to cry, not me. “He never left any of us. All you had to do was call and he’d come. But you never asked him to come. So he needed excuses…he was there…when the church was bombed, he came back for us, and you mocked him. He stayed for your sham of a wedding, and you belittled him—”
“Helen, that’s enough,” my mom said, but I wasn’t finished.
“You wanted him to come back your way. You wanted him to bend at your power. So you went through this whole stupid scheme to get him back when all you needed to do was humble yourself. Just once. Just fucking once! You couldn’t. When you were dying, he came right on time and saved you. He saved Ivy. He got revenge for you. That still wasn’t enough for you. Are you happy now? He gave up everything to get your forgiveness. So he could show you he was serious. He fought every day while you were scheming in the motherfucking walls! Does he have it now! Can you stop hating him now? Now that he’s on his death bed, has he redeemed himself enough for you?”
“Helen, I know you are in pain, but enough!” Uncle Neal demanded.
I could only laugh. “Protect him. Let’s all protect the great king Ethan…who’s next, your highness? Dona was smart to get out when she could. She’d be dead by the end of the year thanks to you.”
“HELEN!” my mother yelled, and I kept quiet—not because I wanted to, but because it felt like my throat was closing.
My heart ached, and I couldn’t breathe anymore.
“HELEN!”
“Call the doctor!”
“HELEN!”
ETHAN
I was in denial.
I was sure of it, but I preferred to stay in denial rather than accept the pain clawing away at my chest. It was for that reason I stayed in the corner…that I watched. I couldn’t look away. I heard her words, they cut deeply, and exposed me for the fraud of a man I really was. I tried to apologize to her…then when I looked back at them…I noticed something. The angrier she got, the more insults she threw, I could have sworn I thought his finger twitched.
It’s just a muscle spasm. The doctors said it would happen. I waited to see it again, but it was gone. The hope was gone.
“HELEN!”
My eyes shifted to her, and I got up as she started to convulse. I wanted to help, but again, I saw something. This time it wasn’t his hand. It was an eyelid.
“HELEN!”
“Call the doctor!” Aunt Cora screamed, and again his eyelids moved. I wasn’t insane. He was trying to do what I wanted to do—help her.
He was trying to help her!
He was there!
“What happened?” The doctors rushed in, and at their voices, his eyelids stopped.
“Step away from her!” I yelled, everyone’s eyes now on me.
“She can’t breathe,” one of them said, and I didn’t look to see her. I just watched him…and again his eyelid moved.
“Lift her head up. We’ll get the—”
“I SAID STEP AWAY FROM HER!” I snapped, pulling my gun on the doctors as I moved over to his bedside.
“Ethan, what are you doing!? Put the fucking gun down!” Uncle Declan hollered at me, and there it was….it happened so quickly, so suddenly that if I blinked I would miss it.
Moving to his head, I put my hand on his head, brushing back slowly.
“Little brother, if you do not open your eyes I will let her die.”
“ETHAN!”
BANG!
I fired, and doctors screamed. Two of them ducked.
“WYATT!” I called again. “She’s turning blue, Wyatt. She’s going to suffocate, right next to you.”
“HELEN! Help her!” Aunt Cora screamed.
“Didn’t you become a doctor so that you wouldn’t have to go to anymore funerals for this family? She’s going to go before you. I swear to God, I will kill her myself. Three.”
“Ethan, enough!”
“Two.”
“ETHAN!”
“One!”
BANG!
His eyes snapped open as if he were awakening from the dead…no, that’s exactly what he was doing. His eyes wide. Staring at me in panic and fear.
“Wyatt!” My Grandma screamed, rushing over to him.
He just kept staring at me.
“Can you hear me?” I asked him.
It looked like it took all his fucking might, but he blinked.
And the gun slipped from my hand, my body hunched over, and I put my forehead on his. “Thank God, you motherfucking bastard. Thank God.”
TWENTY-TWO
“I didn't want the easy kind of love,
I wanted the crazy love,
the kind of love that
created
and
destroyed
all at the same time.”
~ Julie Murphy
ETHAN
We all stood hovering around his bed, and a new doctor checked him over. Standing close, I couldn’t help but pinch my fingers, watching to the point that I was annoyed.
“Well?”
“He’s not brain dead.”
“I figured that part out myself. What the hell is going on
?” I was one quack doctor away from losing my damn patience with them all.
“It’s called locked-in syndrome, or pseudocoma. Your brother is aware of everything that is going on around him. The trauma from the accident must have left his brain unable to connect to the rest of his body. We call it locked-in syndrome because it’s as if he is trapped inside his own body.”
How long has he been like this?
“How do you fix him?”
“There are no known treatments or cures—”
“Let me get this straight, so I know whether or not to kill you.” Inhaling sharply, I was trying to get my head around what he was telling me. “First I’m told that my brother is brain dead, and there is nothing that can be done. So my family and I are losing our minds with grief while my brother listens, helplessly trapped inside his own body. Which none of you highly trained medical professionals caught. I’m willing to bet my brother has been cursing you and this damn hospital to every damn level of hell. Instead, by God’s good grace, I’m pig-headed enough to hope and watch him despite what everyone else is telling me…and therefore able to catch the fact that he is not dead. I once again call all you highly educated, over-paid motherfuckers…and once again, you all tell me there is nothing that can be done. Am I just supposed to leave him like this?”
I caught Wyatt’s eyes move, and I smirked. “Right now he’s cursing me for even suggesting that.”
“What made you realize he’s there?” the doctor questioned, rolling the smooth end of his pen over Wyatt’s forearm. But this time there was no response.
“He was panicking.” It was the only way I could describe it.
“Panicking?”
“When our cousin started yelling, I noticed Wyatt’s hand twitch. Then when she started struggling to breathe, I got up to help, and I looked at him and I felt…it felt like he was trying to get up, too. Like he was trying to get to her. So the only thing I could think of doing was threatening her…he panicked, and he opened his eyes. He fought to open them to save her.” It was so like a scene from a cheesy romantic telenovela or sceneggiati.
