Another sliding glass door, this one unlocked was the last barrier that I had to go through before I was almost home free. As I trundled down the hall, more flashes of Marilee raced through my mind. Less then twenty-four hours before the only thing we’d worried about was that we’d been caught kissing by the doctors on rounds. For good or bad, life could change on a dime and more times than not, it sucked when it did.
With the door open, the sounds of machines peeping, hissing and blipping filled the air. The people who did speak, did so in hushed voices. I was aware of the slight squeak of the cart wheels as I moved forward. I grabbed a few garbage bags and started to empty the full garbage cans that were abundant in the ward.
As I worked, I occasionally glanced up at nurses and doctors who moved like bees in a hive. For someone like me, the environment appeared chaotic, yet everyone seemed to know what they were doing. I pushed my cart forward, hyper-aware about staying out of the paths of the people, busy doing their jobs. Fresh drops of perspiration dripped down my temples and my breathing sped up again. Behind one of the curtains Marilee lay fighting for her life. Now that I was there just moments away from seeing her, I didn’t know if I had the courage to go through with it.
The few times that I’d floated to the ICU had shown me that I wasn’t cut out for that environment, where peoples lives were perilously close to the edge. Radiohead’s Creep started playing like a soundtrack in my mind and all I could think was just like the song said, I didn’t belong there and neither did Marilee.
“Jax?” As soon as I heard my name I froze, a full garbage bag locked in my fist. It took me a few seconds to recognise the voice. When I did, I felt a mix of relief and also irritation.
“Hello Mr. Lawrence,” I said, rotating to face him.
As soon as I laid eyes on him I forgot any animosity I’d held for him. How could I be pissed at someone who seemed so broken. His usual neatly combed hair was disheveled. Only half of his shirt was tucked into his pants that looked as crumpled as if he’d slept in them. His eyes were ringed with worry and dark circles that said he hadn’t slept in a long while. Witnessing his obvious distress drove a wedge through my resolve to keep it together. It meant that Marilee was even worse off than I’d expected.
“Where’s Marilee,” I said. The words coming out in a hiss of breath.
Harold drew in an extended sigh and shook his head.
“She’s over there,” he said pointing.
The curtain was pulled over so only the foot of the bed was visible. One pale foot that I immediately recognized as Marilee’s, poked out from beneath the thin sheet that covered her. I swallowed a few times, trying to keep my mind from spinning out of control, now wasn’t the time to lose it. I needed to see Marilee, hold her hand in mine. Then I could let go of all the emotions that had me strung tighter than the skin on a drum.
“What happened to her?” I asked. The words spilled out without me even trying.
Harold sighed again. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Somehow he seemed even smaller than he had before.
“She’s had what was called a hypersensitive reaction to her chemotherapy. She went into an Anaphylactic shock and then her kidneys shut down. They have her on a machine to help her breathe but…” Harold’s voice broke and a tear rolled down his cheek. “They’re giving her a fifty-fifty shot, the next 24 hours are going to be what determines it all.”
The bottom seemed to drop out of my world.
“But why was she having chemo, she wasn’t supposed to start until after Christmas, we had plans and…” I knew I was blubbering but I couldn’t stop. I’d made it as far as I could without going stark raving mad. If I didn’t release some of my pent up feelings I was going to implode.
Harold ran a shaky hand through his thinning hair.
“Her counts were good and the doctor suggested that she start a new cycle.” He locked his eyes on mine. “She wanted to do it, get it over with. But instead of being a parent and deciding what was best for her, we just signed off on it and…” He dragged in a breath as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the atmosphere. “She’s here because Luanne and I were too busy with our lives to be there for her, and now I may never get the chance to make that up to her.”
I shook my head, unable to process what he was saying. Marilee was getting better, I’d seen that for myself. We were going to spend Christmas together at the apartment with Gran, Zeke, Max and maybe even Tazleo. This couldn’t be happening, people died from the disease not the cure, it was wrong.
“No,” I said.
I spun away from Harold and raced to Marilee’s bed. Though she was only a few feet from me, it felt like I was moving in slow motion. I heard the swish of my heart in my ears, the peeps of machines and my own ragged breaths. Then I was there, staring down at the one person in the world who I knew I couldn’t live without.
“Marilee,” I said.
The tears that I’d managed to hold back, broke free and sobs wracked my body. Her skin was so waxen and washed of color that she looked more like a doll than a living breathing human. Tubes and wires trailed from fingers, toes, arms and her chest. A thick tube was shoved between her perfect lips that were so soft when I’d kissed them.
Her chest rose and fell in a mechanical rhythm as the ventilator did the working of expanding and contracting Marilee’s lungs. I moved closer. Lying there she seemed so fragile, like if I touched her she might turn to powder in my hands. I felt a hand on my shoulder and realized that Harold had followed me. Curled up in a ball, asleep in a teal lounge chair, was Luanne.
If she hadn’t been camped out at Marilee’s bedside I might not have recognized her. Her face was conspicuously bereft of makeup, her hair was drawn back in a loose ponytail and she didn’t have even one piece of jewelry on. She wore a plain white t-shirt that looked like it must have belonged to Harold and stretchy black yoga pants. Oddly seeing her like that, a shadow of the peacock she usually was, made me feel a little better. Luanne did have a heart after all, it was too bad that Marilee had to almost die for her to find it.
Harold moved toward Luanne. He tapped her on the shoulder, her eyes fluttered open too quickly for her to have actually been asleep. Her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot and so puffy that it looked as if she’d been punched a few times. She blinked up at Harold then her gaze found me. As soon as she did, her face crumpled and she started to cry. Only unlike the dramatic Academy award worthy performances she’d usually put forth, these tears were real.
Luanne was on her feet in seconds. Before I knew what was happening I was in her arms, her head was almost level with mine. I held her stiffly, not able to comprehend what was going on. It was as if I’d gone to sleep and woken up in some alternative universe. Luanne kissed my cheek softly then took my hands in hers. She drew me closer to Marilee’s bed. I hadn’t realized until that moment that I’d actually been avoiding getting close to Marilee, as if being away from her would stop it from being real.
“Marilyn sweetie, Jax is here and he wants you to fight to get better…” Luanne said in a trembling voice that managed to gouge more strips of pain in my heart.
“Jax, tell her you’re here. Tell her that you want her to fight,” Luanne pleaded. She lifted Marilee’s hand gingerly, placing it in mine. Marilee’s hand was lifeless and too cool. I stared blankly at Luanne then Marilee.
“Tell her,” Luanne urged. She used the back of her hand, not a pretty colored tissue, to wipe the tears from her eyes.
“I…” I started to say but it was almost too much for me to get the words out. I needed all the air trapped in my lungs just to keep breathing.
“Tell her Jax, I’m begging you. Tell my daughter that she needs to come back to us. She loves you, she’ll listen to you, please Jax. I’ll never ask you to do another thing. Help Marilyn find her way back to us.”
Luanne’s hand was like a vise around my wrist as if she were using me as an anchor. I didn’t know if I had the strength to do what she wanted m
e to. How could I bring Marilee back? I wasn’t God, I was just me, a helpless human.
Then everything that had happened from the day that I’d pulled the Tower tarot card, meeting Marilee, the Peace Project, the night in the bar, Gran’s ominous message, ran like a movie through my mind until it stopped on the words I’d said to Marilee not too long before.
“Come back to me Marilee, you’re part of my story. Now and forever,” I said.
I felt of rush of energy surge through me as if I’d been electrified from the inside. I felt pressure on the top of my head like someone was squeezing my skull. An explosion of heat made the skin on my body burn. Whatever had started in my head traveled through my body, down my legs, up my spine as if a live wire was working its way through me, until finally all the energy came together. It surged down my right hand, the one that was still holding Marilee’s. The energy felt like it drained out of me and if it was even possible, moved into Marilee.
Stunned, I let go of her hand and staggered back, suddenly too weak to even stand. I reached for the chair that Luanne had been sitting in and just managed to sit down before the darkness took me. I blacked out.
20. Marilee
I could hear Mom and Harold’s voice and so many other unfamiliar sounds, but I couldn’t seem to open my eyes. I wanted to tell them I was okay and that I would wake up soon because they were all so worried. I didn’t want them to suffer because of me. I wasn’t sure what had actually happened to me. I knew that everything had seemed to be going fine with my chemotherapy for the first few minutes, but then something had gone terribly wrong. It had all happened so fast that I didn’t have time to call for help, or tell someone that it didn’t feel like the last time.
Now I was trapped. I didn’t know when, or if ever, I was going to get out. I wanted Jax. Even if I couldn’t see him, I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted him to sing to me just like he had that night. I wanted to live. There were so many things left to do, like spend Christmas with Jax and his Gran and give Jax his present. All the hours I’d spent putting his Christmas gift together couldn’t just go to waste, it wasn’t fair. But I guessed life wasn’t always fair. Then I heard it, the one sound that I knew would lead me out of the tunnel I was trapped in.
“Come back to me Marilee, you’re part of my story. Now and forever.”
My body suddenly felt lighter like I was floating on air. For a moment I wondered if I’d died and my spirit had left my body like I’d seen on television shows. After some time had passed and I wasn’t staring down at my inert form, I figured I hadn’t died after all. I knew something had happened all the same.
The scent of Jax’s cologne flooded my senses, blocking out all the other unfamiliar smells that surrounded me. I knew he was close by. I imagined reaching for him, opening my eyes and seeing him. I wanted to be released from the prison I was in. But nothing worked, I was trapped.
21. Jax
“Pin this on her shirt,” Gran said, passing a tiny gold pin to me. I took it in my hand, realizing that it was a guardian angel pin. It had a tiny emerald colored stone in it; Marilee’s birthstone.
“Is it supposed to help?” I asked. Gran shrugged and smiled.
“We can only hope that it will.”
She ran her fingers down my cheek. Her worry was almost palpable. It didn’t help that it was Christmas Eve and instead of spending it with her remembering Grandad, I was going back to the hospital to stand vigil at Marilee’s bedside. I’d offered to stay back and spend the evening with Gran, but she’d been adamant that I go and be with Marilee. As if she somehow knew our time together was short. I hated even thinking like that. I also couldn’t delude myself into believing that everything was fine either. It had been five days since Marilee had almost died and though she was stable, she was still ventilated and in a coma. Nobody knew when she would wake up, and if she did, if she would be the same girl I’d fallen in love with.
Though no one had said it in so many words there was a definite concern that Marilee might have suffered brain damage. Her heart had stopped beating five times and they’d brought her back. In fact as far as I’d been told it was a miracle in itself that she was alive at all. Now being alive wasn’t enough for me, I needed to have her back fully.
“Are you sure that you haven’t lost weight?” Gran asked.
I shook my head because she was as sharp as a tack. I had lost five pounds in the past week but I wasn’t about to tell Gran that. If I did she’d be forcing me to drink BOOST, a gross milkshake that helped you gain weight. I’d had it too many times in the past to ever want to revisit it. In fact I gagged just thinking about it.
“Not a pound,” I lied. She gave me the evil eye like she knew I was lying, but didn’t say anything else about the matter.
“Are you sure that it’s okay to go to the hospital this evening?” I asked, still guilty that I was leaving her even though she’d given me the green light.
“Being with the living is more important than being with the dead,” she said simply. A pang of sadness pierced my heart. No matter how stoic Gran was acting, it was Grandad’s death anniversary and our New Years Eve, it was an important day.
“If you say so,” I said.
I grabbed the paper shopping bag from the chair where I’d laid it. I leaned in and gave Gran a kiss on her wrinkled cheek. She winked at me and her smile traveled right up to her eyes.
“I say so.”
She patted my cheek one last time then turned me around until I was facing the door. I opened the it, throwing one last fleeting look her way. Gran was still grinning. I sighed and left.
It wasn’t often that the weather cooperated and it managed to snow on Christmas Eve, but for some reason it was. And it wasn’t any ordinary snow either, this was postcard perfect, like the powers that be, had conspired to cover the world in a sprinkle of icing sugar. I wished that Marilee was walking through what I could aptly describe as a winter wonderland.
Under the cover of the snow everything seemed clean and white. The Strip even looked different, all the ugliness that usually marred it had disappeared, for a little while at least. I knew that the buses were running on the holiday schedule, so I had planned to arrive at the bus stop right around the time when the next one was due.
When the bus pulled up along the curbside I noticed it was practically deserted. All the stores had already closed and most people were probably home with their families, wrapping presents and doing last minute preparations. Even the vagrants who usually graced the Strip were conspicuously absent. They had probably chosen to spend the holiday in a warm shelter rather than on the streets.
I made my way to the Step Down Unit of the hospital where Marilee had been moved the day before. The doctors had deemed her stable enough to have a private room with an around the clock nurse to attend to her needs. The new room was more private and although it was nothing like room 312, it was better than the ICU, a place that somehow managed to set me on edge every time I walked onto the floor.
I made my way to Marilee’s room. Even before I was halfway down the corridor Harold and Luanne met me in the hall. As soon as I saw them there waiting, my heart leapt, thinking that something had happened to Marilee. When they both broke into wide grins I calmed.
As odd as it might have seemed, the Lawrences and I had formed sort of a bond since Marilee had gotten sick. Unlike before, they’d become regular fixtures at the hospital, and usually only chanced to leave when they knew that I was with Marilee. They’d made such an about face that it was hard to believe they were the same two people.
Gone was Luanne’s need to be the center of attention, and though I couldn’t actually go as far as calling her the doting mother, she was definitely making progress. Harold for his part, had been like a rock for both Luanne and even me. I was grateful for his quiet strength because sometimes seeing Marilee, lifeless and so still was almost too much to bear. It was strange how in a time of crisis relationships could change so dramatically. I actually could say wi
th all honesty that I no longer wanted to rip off Luanne and Harold’s heads every time I saw them. I just hoped the change lasted and that Marilee could someday witness it too.
“We have a surprise for you,” Luanne said in a sing-song voice. The sound of it was so strange that it was jarring.
“Well actually Marilee has a surprise for you,” Harold corrected. His face cracked an awkward smile, like it wasn’t something he did often.
Hope blossomed in my chest. Had she come out of the coma?
“No it’s not Marilee, she’s the same,” Harold amended, as if he’d read my mind. I drooped, hating that I’d allowed impossible dreams to cloud reality. I had to accept what was, if dreams were real the streets would be paved with gold.
Luanne threaded her arm through mine, and led me forward to Marilee’s room. Harold followed, smiling like an imp. As soon as we passed over the threshold to Marilee’s room I was bowled over by what I saw there.
“How?” I managed to say.
“She’s been working on these for a while. Every time she finished one she’d send it home with us. It was supposed to be her Christmas gift to you Jax,” Luanne said, fresh tears glistening in her eyes. I felt my own tears burn too. How could I not be emotional when the room was filled with at least twenty watercolor paintings. And they weren’t just any old paintings, they were detailed images of something that meant as much to me as Marilee did, my tattoos.
I stumbled back, leaning against the door frame as my eyes went from picture to picture. It seemed impossible that she’d been able to capture in utter perfection the tattoos that told the story of my life, but somehow she’d managed to do just that. From the tiny hummingbird that fed from a pumpkin orange Hibiscus and the Phoenix rising from a fiery plume of ashes, Marilee had got everything just right.
And looking at my tattoos in living color only reminded me more how much Marilee truly understood every bit of who I was. When I caught sight of the last image that she’d painted, the tattoo of her sleeping, I was a heart beat away from going to mush. And in the middle of all of this, was Marilee, the real person, a shattered living doll. The concept that I might never be able to tell her just how much she meant to me, felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest.
Tattoos: A Novel Page 21
