by M Dauphin
Braydon stops pacing and watches me from across the room.
“Nothing. Sometimes life’s just a bitch, Al.” He walks towards me, takes my hand again, reaching in with one hand and drying my tears as they fall. I can’t look at him. I hate feeling this weak and useless. I hate all these tears, but I can’t stop them. “We just have to remember we’re not alone in this.”
“I know,” I whisper, clearing my throat. “I know I’m not alone… missing him… but Bray, your life wasn’t ruined. You can still walk. You can still go home. You don’t have to go back to his place without him. You’re not without a job. I have to completely start over, Bray.”
He clears his throat and backs away, running his hands down his face.
“I’m not certain you quite understand what I lost that night, Al.” he says, his back turned to me. “It wasn’t just a friend that I lost. It was my best friend. My brother. That I watched die. Right in front of me.” He turns around, his face flushed and fists at his side. “I don’t want to hear that we aren’t in this together, because we are. You were passed out when they cut you out of the car, Al. YOU! They didn’t cut the car out from around you… they literally had to cut YOU out of the car.” He shakes his head and starts pacing. “I listened to Lane die. I saw his body go lifeless. I can’t fucking close my eyes without seeing it. Jesus the blood, Al. You don’t know because you were out, but there was so much blood.” He clears his throat, starting to get worked up and trying to calm himself down. “No, I didn’t lose a leg, but I lost just the same. No one is a winner in this, Al. And the only way we’re going to get through this is if we get through it together.”
He’s staring at me, all I can do is stare back while I process what he just told me.
“You saw everything?” I look down at the flat sheet where the bottom part of my leg should be, then look back on up him, his eyes fixed on that same spot. “You… you saw them take this?” I ask, nodding towards my leg. “You SAW them cutting this off and didn’t stop them?!” Why am I so pissed? I should be happy I’m alive, but if he was there he should have been able to help in some way or another, right?
“Al, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t… I couldn’t… They-" he starts sobbing, his hands over his face. “I’m fucking sorry, alright?!” he yells, starting to pace the room. “I tried, Al. I pulled and pulled. I pried at the car. Hell, the entire front of the car was gone, Alexis! There was… nothing. Nothing I could do!”
“And Lane?” I whisper, staring at him, waiting to hear what actually happened.
“You don’t want details, Alexis.”
“No, I don’t want them but I need them, Braydon. I don’t remember shit from that night. Waking up without a leg is the most horrifying thing that’s ever happened to me that I remember. I need to know what really happened. How’d he die, Braydon? What happened to him? You said impaled… did they get him out? Jesus Bray, I can’t live not knowing what happened.” The tears are streaming down my face again. They’re starting to feel normal as they make their way down my cheeks and land on my hospital gown.
“He… There was metal. Some… some piece of the car. Maybe it was the truck, I’m not sure…” he cusses and looks down to his chest. His fist comes up and taps right between his pecs. “It just... It was stuck.” He clears his throat and his eyes hit mine. “It wouldn’t budge. It wouldn’t fucking budge, Al. He… He made me promise to take care of you, and Jesus Christ you’re going to let me, Alexis.”
His hand squeezes mine, his eyes pleading with me. Tears streaming down our faces as we sit and stare into each other’s lost eyes.
We’ve both lost so much these past few days. We’re in this together.
“I’m hungry,” I whisper, pulling my hand away to dry my face finally. “I need to eat something, I need to drink something other than ice water. I guess I need to get my ass out of this bed and figure out how I’m going to move, huh?”
He grins at me, and pulls me into a hug that lasts longer than any of our hugs have in the past.
I don’t mind, though. The human connection feels perfect right now.
“So, you two decide what’s for dinner?” The nurse asks, barging in on our moment. Whatever moment it was, it was the best feeling I’ve had since I’ve woken up. Just knowing that someone else out there is hurting just as much as I am, maybe not in the same exact way, but still hurting makes it a little easier to bear.
How messed up is that?
“What’s the best thing on your menu?” Braydon asks, his eyes searching mine. I grin and remember the time he and Lane ordered for me. The first and only time they did. They tried getting the waitress to tell them the most delicious thing they had, but it turned out she had terrible taste, they ended up ordering me some fish plate that made me want to vomit.
He’s grinning now, an infections grin that has me smiling in return.
“Burgers are fine,” I say to her, smiling over at her. “And I’m ready to try to move. So…” I trail off, she smiles at me proudly.
“I’m happy to hear that. Let’s get some food in you and we’ll do just that.” Heading out of the room, my mother comes through the door before it’s closed all the way.
“Hey baby,” she says, rushing over to me. Braydon gives us space, but he doesn’t leave. He and my mom have only met one other time before, but they seemed to get along well. By the looks of it, she’s not giving him any dirty looks for being in here, he doesn’t seem annoyed so hopefully they’ve been getting along good.
“Hey mom,” I breath in her scent, immediately calming me.
Lavender.
They say smell can take you back to places you haven’t been in years. That’s what my mom’s smell does for me. The scent of lavender reminds me of night time stories with her and dad, afternoons at the park, and the drive home with the windows open. I never knew as a kid how she always smelled that good, even now as an adult it’s still there. Not too overpowering, but just subtle enough to be beautiful.
“How you doin?” She’s cupping my face, patting my head, fussing like any mother would to an offspring that just woke up after a tragic event. I take her hands, smile at her, the most genuine smile I can muster, and sigh.
“I’ll be ok. Promise.”
“Good. I’m happy. Jesus, Alexis you gave us all a scare,” she says, glancing back at Braydon. “This young man hasn’t left your side since he got here. Luckily your father and he have taken to each other or else he’d be wearing three day old clothes right about now.” She chuckles and I see Braydon shift in his seat.
Day old clothes, probably covered in blood. Of course my dad got him new clothes. That’s probably why the jeans and polo Bray is wearing today isn’t his typical style. It makes me smile thinking of my dad doing that for him.
“So… dinner? Are you going to eat anything? When will they have you up and moving? I’ve gotten a hold of the best prosthetic’s doctor in the country to come take care of you, but it might be a while before you can be fitted. They said swelling has to go down, you have a lot of physical ther-”
“Mom.” I blurt out, not wanting to talk all this over right now. “Not now. Okay?”
“We were just getting ready to have dinner, ma’am.” Braydon speaks up from behind her. “They’re gonna get food in her, get her up a little after that, then we see where it goes. Baby steps. That’s how we’re going to have to take this.”
“Right. Baby steps. Until you’re out of here and you can come home and then the doctors at Regional can help you and I’ll be able to drive you, your dad can help, Peter can even help a bit, It’s going to be fine, Al-”
“Stop mom!” I yell suddenly. I can’t take this. She’s going a thousand miles a minute! “Mom, I don’t know if I’m moving home yet.” I try to break it to her lightly, but the look on her face looks like I just shot a baby deer or something. “I mean… I haven’t had a chance to think about any of this. Can… can you give me time? Space, maybe… To think about this?” I flick my gl
ance to Braydon whose fists are balled and jaw is tight, I immediately know something’s not right. “Ma, my food will be here soon. Can we just lay off the future talks until maybe tomorrow… or the next day?”
“Oh,” she says, looking from me to Braydon, then back to me with a new look on her face. “Yea sure, honey. That’s… that’s fine. Totally okay. I’m sure you’ve got a lot going on in your brain that you need to process. Maybe once the rest of the fog lifts and you’re able to think better we can talk about it,” she sniffles and hugs me again. “I just love you, Alexis. More than life itself and I’m so happy you’re okay.”
“I love you too ma.” I whisper, hugging her back.
“I’m heading back to the hotel now. You two…” she looks at Braydon and nods, smiling tightly at him. “You guys will be ok.”
Hugging me one last time, she heads out of the room, leaving the two of us alone in the silence.
“So… wanna tell me what that’s all about?” I say, nodding to his sudden tight fisted demeanor.
He looks down at his hands and curses under his breath. “Sorry,” he says, standing up and starting to pace again. “I just… I can’t take it when people try to plan other people’s lives.” He looks at me, his eyes sad again. “So Peter, huh?” He has a slight grin on his face, but he’s never been able to hide his emotions that well from me. I know he’s worried, and for good reason. I’ve never mentioned Peter to the boys because, well, we’ve kind of grown apart.
“Yes, Peter.” I pick at the blanket some and sigh. “He was my childhood best friend. When he realized he was gay was when he started pulling away from everyone. We text every now and then, but I haven’t seen him in years. I think my mom is just stuck in the past.” I shrug and give him a weak smile, suddenly feeling guilty for keeping so much of my past away from my life here. I didn’t have a bad upbringing, I just wanted a fresh start in LA.
“Well your mom… she’s definitely uh… something else.” he shakes his head and sighs again, looking at the TV, but not really paying attention to what’s on the screen.
“What? She’s my mom, she’s supposed to fuss, Bray.” I laugh it off because I don’t have the energy to be mad at this point. It’s all been drained; I’m to the point of just rolling with the punches.
“I know… but… Al you’re not really gonna leave, are you?” Those words make me feel like I’ve been punched in the gut, I don’t know why. Why does he want me to stay so bad… why do I feel guilty for thinking about leaving?
“I… I don’t know what I’m going to do, Bray,” I whisper, looking down at my sheets. “I can’t exactly live on my own right now.”
He huffs and curses under his breath, running his hands down his face. The minute the nurse walks in the door it looks like he’s about to say something else to me, but he doesn’t. Instead, we eat in silence, watching the kids channel on TV, because it’s the only safe channel where we won’t see images of the horrific night.
Braydon
She’s the toughest chick I’ve ever met; I think I’m turning into the biggest asshole around for wanting her to move in with me. Lane told me to, I promised, but I’m not certain that ‘taking care of her’ means falling in love with her.
She’s been up and walking around as best as she can this last day with the crutches they’ve provided her.
I’ve learned a shit ton about amputees in the past forty-eight hours. She has what’s called a transtibial amputation, lying right below the knee. I’ve never thought about the science behind it, but from the sounds of it she’s going to be going through many different prosthetic fittings and limbs before the right once is finalized. She’s been screened, it sounds like her K-Level is at a 4 right now being that she’s been so healthy and active all her life, but I’d hate for it to drop if she becomes less motivated to move. She needs it to stay high so she can get a good prosthetic, have it covered by insurance, and be successful in moving on wither new lifestyle.
Tomorrow afternoon she starts physical therapy and meets with a therapist to make sure she’s mentally stable after going through what she went through. There’s been talk of her going home, but she always passes it over and changes the subject. I haven’t pushed it, but her parents live hours from here… I can’t have her moving that far away. She’s been my life this last week, and before that she was half of my life. She’s one of the very few people I call a ‘best’ friend. Even the band members don’t get that title. I can’t be pussy whipped since it’s not that type of relationship, but I’m damn near close… I’m not sure what my life would be like without her here.
“You sure you don’t have anything else you need to be doing tonight, Bray?” she asks from the chair. She’s been trying to get me to leave for a few days, stating that she’s not that important, but I know her better than that. Every time she tells me to leave her eyes get dull, but each time I decline and stay, she brightens up. I know she likes having me here; I hope it’s me that she likes being here and not just the company.
“You are my ‘anything else’, Al. Deal with it.” Grabbing a deck of cards, I slide the table over to where she’s sitting and start dealing out a game of gin.
“When was the last time you were home, Braydon?” She’s whispering, probably because she’s bringing up a subject we just don’t talk about. There’s nothing to talk about anymore. He’s not coming back. We need to move on.
“I started last time,” I answer, completely ignoring her question. “Your turn.”
“Braydon, have you been home at all since then?” Her beautiful green eyes hit mine, I feel so much right now I have to clear my throat and look away. No I fucking haven’t walked back into that place, but she doesn’t need to know that. I’ve been crashing here every fucking night, showering at Gabe’s and not doing anything else.
I can’t go back there yet.
“I’m good, Al.”
“You haven’t, have you?” Her whisper turns to a tight voiced whimper as her hand goes to her face. “Shit, Bray, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I can’t turn these off for good,” she sniffles. “I mean, his funeral is tomorrow and I’m not even sure I’m going to be able to go to it.”
“Don’t,” I groan. Fuck. “Don’t say that, Alexis. You’re going, and I’ll be right there with you the entire time.”
I almost skipped out on my mom’s, but my grandma forced me to go. I don’t know what I would’ve done had I not went. I wouldn’t have gotten any closure. I wouldn’t have gotten to say my final goodbyes. She has to go, because she needs it more than any of us.
“I don’t think I can, though,” she whispers, her fingers playing with the cards in her hand.
“You can. I have faith.” I smile at her and take her hand in mine. “You’re the strong bitch that threw that girl off stage during my show at the college. You’re the one that got us out of the ticket when we were clearly speeding. Hell, you have no fear, Al. We got this. Together, okay?”
She smiles weakly at me, my heart breaks for her. Is she ever going to be that girl again, or is this what she’s left with? I need to help her find… her… again.
“Okay,” she whispers, setting the cards on the table. “I’m tired, Bray. I think I’m going to take a nap.”
Using the chair to help her up, I hop up immediately to help her back to the table. At first she pauses and looks at me. It’s possible she’s tired of feeling helpless, but I’m not backing down. As my hand wraps around her cold fingers and my arm goes around her to steady her, a slew of emotions start rolling through me.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
I should leave the nurses to help her.
I should get home. I should call my band mates back. I should get to the bar.
Should. But I’m not. She needs me and I need her. I need to make sure the last person in this world that I hold close to my heart is safe. Always.
That night her parents stop in to spend some time with her so I slip out, get in my car, unsure where I’m headed I s
tart to drive. I need to call the band. I need to talk to the bar to make sure shit’s been running right. I need to start to live again, but I feel so damn guilty for not being with her.
Deciding on skipping the apartment, I head straight to the bar and park in back. Letting myself in through the kitchen, I notice they’re pretty dead for a Monday night.
“Hey,” I say to Gabe who’s manning the bar.
“Wow.” He raises his eyebrows at me as I sit on a stool and crosses his arms, leaning on the back of the way. “Holy shit man you look terrible.” He’s not joking, either. I look like shit, I feel like shit, and I can’t do anything about it. “Here,” he says, sliding me a glass with two fingers of scotch and a lone ice cube.
“Thanks man.” Shooting it down I let the burn initiate any type of feeling, but all I come up with is emptiness.
“How ya doin?” Gabe watches me as he refills the glass.
“I just… Tomorrow’s finally the funeral. Alexis actually reminded me today. Can you believe I forgot? I forgot about my best fucking friend’s funeral, because I haven’t had a real sleep in weeks and all I can think about is getting his fucking girl out of the hospital and home safe.” I take a sip on the drink, hissing when I feel it this time. Gabe’s watching me with thoughtful eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows better. “I just can’t, Gabe. She’s counting on me, and I have to be the bigger man here, but fuck,” I huff, looking around the empty bar. “The fuck is everyone?”
“Shit’s been slow lately since the band stopped playing regularly.” He sighs and tosses his rag on the bar. “Need to get back into that shit, man.”
“Fuck, I know,” I groan, staring at the stage. Something comes over me, for the first time since the accident I want to get up there and actually feel something. Music’s always done it for me. It’s allowed me to share, to feel, to course through the day with a way of expressing myself. I’ve been writing shit lately, doodles and scratched chicken notes on fucking hospital paper because I refuse to go home to get my notebook. Lyrics that touch the core of myself lately. Shit that, if I ever shared it, they’d probably institutionalize me.
