by Tia Fielding
Emil wanted to believe him, but for this, he’d have to see Makai first.
They sat in silence for ten or so minutes, and then Emil sighed. “He was so adamant about coming to see you on Thursday, after he goes with me to Evy’s. He’s…. Dad, he’s so important, I can’t….” He choked a sob, and Dad squeezed him harder.
“I will do everything I can to make sure he won’t be blamed for anything. Even if Frank wakes up, he won’t be able to get a lawyer good enough to spin this in his favor. Nobody around these parts who works with law would take his case, anyway. And the public defender who gets assigned to him will soon learn what kind of guy he is and how long he’s gotten away with what he’s done to Lizzie. It won’t go anywhere.”
Dad tensed then, and Emil knew he was trying to choose his words very carefully. Emil pulled away so that he could see Dad’s face for whatever it was he had to get off his chest.
“I might’ve requested all possible files on Makai last week,” Dad confessed, looking shamefaced.
“You… what?” Emil didn’t know how to feel.
“Yes. I mean his prison files. I pulled some strings. I know what happened to him there, son, and….”
It wasn’t often Emil had seen his dad tear up, but now there was a glimmer in his eyes. For Makai.
“Dad, I don’t even know what to say.” Emil sighed. “I want to be mad at you for looking all that stuff up. It’s Makai’s story to tell, not for you to look up in some impersonal paperwork!” He felt frustrated for a moment, but…. “I understand, though, why you did it. I appreciate it, but….”
“He lost a decade of his life. He hasn’t had normal young adult experiences, and he’s thirty, Emil. That was one of the things that worried me. But I know him better now, and with what I learned….” Dad took a deep breath and looked at Emil. “Sadly, you two aren’t that different. You aren’t on two different levels like I originally thought. And it’s so wrong. Neither of you should’ve had to go through all the things you did because of other people.” Dad swallowed hard. “If this is who you want to be with, if Makai is the person for you, son, then I’m glad. He’s a good man, and he shouldn’t have had to save two people he didn’t even know that well just to get me to see through my prejudice.”
Tears rolled down Emil’s cheeks, and he lunged at Dad to hug him again. They stayed like that for ten seconds or so, then pulled away again.
Something occurred to Emil. “Wait, has anyone called his mom?”
Dad groaned. “No, didn’t even cross our minds. We were too busy getting to you.”
“Okay, so how about you go ask if they know anything, and I’ll call her?”
“You have her number?” Dad looked surprised.
“Yeah, Makai gave it to me a few weeks ago, just so someone else had it here. I’ve never used it.” He sighed. “And I’m not happy to be using it now.”
Dad grimaced and patted his shoulder before getting up. “I’ll go see if there’s news, get the details of what they actually know.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Emil watched Dad go and took out his cell. Calling Susan Stone to tell her that her youngest had been shot wasn’t going to be easy. If it had been just being the bearer of bad news, it would’ve been better, but the relationship between Makai and his mother was complex, and Emil knew Makai didn’t normally like to think about her at all. Emil wasn’t sure why or what had exactly happened between them.
He found the number in his phone and pressed call. It took maybe five rings for it to go through.
“Susan Stone speaking,” a calm voice answered.
“Hi, Mrs. Stone, I don’t know if you know who I am, but this is Emil Newman from Acker,” he started, not quite knowing how to make the call after all.
“Oh, Makai’s… friend, right?” she sounded surprised, but not worried yet.
“Yes, right. Look, there’s no easy way to say this, but there’s been a shooting, and Makai is in surgery right now.” Emil ran his fingers through his hair and tugged as he stared at the floor.
She gasped. “What?”
“I don’t have all the details. My dad, he’s the sheriff, he’s gone to ask what the current situation is. But I know that Makai went to interfere in a domestic disturbance.”
“Wait, wait…. So you’re saying Makai went to help someone out and got shot?” Emil couldn’t read her tone at all.
“Pretty much, yes.” Then, because she was just breathing at the other end, he added, “I thought you should know.”
“Yes, yes, right. Well I’m at work right now, and my granddaughters are coming over later, so I don’t know—”
The door opened, and Dad walked in. “Mrs. Stone, my dad’s here. I’ll put you on speaker, if that’s okay?”
“Yes, all right,” she said.
“Hello, Mrs. Stone, I’m Sheriff Newman. I assume Emil filled you in for the most part, but the actual condition Makai is in.”
“Right,” she agreed.
“He took a shot to the chest at close range while he was trying to protect the victim of a domestic violence incident. It seems like his arm got in the way of the bullet, which changed the angle of it, or so they think. He had a collapsed lung and lost a lot of blood, but they’re fixing him right now, and the prognosis is good at this moment.”
She was silent for a while, then cleared her throat. “All right. Would you tell him we’re thinking of him and call me if anything changes for the worse?”
Emil’s eyes widened as he stared at his dad with disbelief.
“Yes, we’ll do that,” Dad said calmly, but his gaze was steely.
“Okay, well, I’ll have to get back to work. Bye.” The call disconnected, and Emil felt… empty.
“How can she just discard him like that?” Emil looked at his dad. “What kind of parent does that?”
“The kind who doesn’t visit their son in prison even once?” Dad frowned, disapproval written all over his weathered face.
Emil’s jaw dropped. “Jesus,” he hissed. “No wonder he doesn’t stay in touch with her.”
“Yeah.”
“He even gave her money after he got out, to make sure she’d be okay for a while at least, because I don’t think his brother is the most reliable type.”
Dad shook his head and huffed. “From what I gather, no, he’s not. Makai, on the other hand….” The smile Dad gave him then was somehow… proud. “I’m glad you found him, son.”
Emil gave him a wobbly smile back and nodded. “You have no idea, Dad.”
EMIL HATED the wait the most. It took eight hours for him to be able to see Makai.
When he did see him, he had to take hold of the doorframe before his legs gave out from underneath. He’d never thought people really looked small in hospital beds. He’d thought it had to be a thing that was said for whatever reason.
Seeing Makai in that bed, though, his skin so pale and his gorgeous dark eyes closed, Emil understood. Normally, Makai was larger than life in a quiet way. Now, he was just quiet, too still.
“He’s unconscious still but doing well. He’ll wake up when his body finally decides it’s done enough healing,” the nurse who had introduced herself as Monica said and patted Emil’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine. Just give it time.”
Emil nodded mutely and went to sit in the chair Monica had moved next to the bed for him. He took Makai’s right hand. His left arm was in a cast because of the surgery they’d had to do to repair the damage to the ulna. There was metal in the arm now, something Emil knew Makai would find a way to joke about.
There were tubes here and there. Before Monica had let him into the room, she’d said there would be many of those. The oxygen prongs, the IV, the drainage thing going into Makai’s chest, and a catheter. Maybe others, Emil couldn’t remember.
He sat there for half an hour, holding on to Makai’s hand and listening to his heart monitor beep steadily. That one was a precaution, Monica had promised. Just because Makai was unconscious.
Emil put hi
s head on the bed by their hands and tried to let himself rest.
He woke up when his mom came in and shook him awake.
“Emil, they’ll let you stay because your dad made a ruckus about it. But you need to eat.” She held out wrapped sandwiches and some apple slices in a box with a smaller container of peanut butter inside.
“Okay,” he said tiredly. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was feeling less hungry than he should’ve. He was also not thinking straight; his mind was trying to take control in a bad way. He knew it was PTSD, and he hated it, but he needed to be strong, be there for Makai.
“I’ll sit with you until you’ve eaten at least half of these. And drunk one of these,” she said, digging out a bottle of Gatorade and another one of water from her huge handbag.
She sat on the other chair by the window and sighed. For some reason she didn’t say anything more, just watched him until he started to eat.
He got down one sandwich and some of the fruit before having to call it. He drank half of the Gatorade just because he knew it would help with how crappy he felt physically, and looked at Mom. “Happy?”
“No,” she sighed. “My son’s partner is unconscious in a hospital, and I’m afraid my son will start spiraling, so no, Emil, I’m not happy.”
Emil blinked. It wasn’t like her to be this direct. He wondered where this all came from. At least until there was a knock on the door and Evy peeked in. Emil dropped his head to his hands and groaned. “Really, Mom?”
“Really, Emil. Eat the rest before morning when I’ll come back with breakfast. I’ll go take care of the cats, too, if you give me a key.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said and handed her his keys. “Thank you. He—We appreciate it.” He hugged her back and did his best not to tense when she kissed his cheek.
“See you in the morning.”
Mom left, and Evy took her chair. “I saw that,” she said plainly, and Emil tried not to tense further.
“Why are you here?” He could see her dreads from the corner of his eye, the now-green mass of them moving as she calmly changed position in the chair.
“Because you’re in a hospital, Emil.”
“I’m not in a hospital, Makai is.”
“Really? So… this right here”—she gestured around—“is not a hospital room?”
Emil shook his head and still refused to look at her properly. “I’m not the patient.”
“No, you’re not. But if you stop taking care of yourself immediately, it won’t take long for you to become one, now will it?”
He flinched at her words, even though the tone was kind. “I just ate. What more do you want?”
“I want you to sleep.”
He shook his head. She meant pills. “I don’t want those.”
“I know you don’t. So I’ll make you a deal.”
Suspicious, he looked at her and saw her smile slightly. “I’m listening?” But only because he knew she was right about him. If he didn’t take care of himself now, he would be of no use to Makai when he woke up.
“I know you don’t like it either, but I’ll give you a shitload of melatonin to knock you out for the night.” Then, seeing his expression, she said, “I’ll be right here. If you get nightmares, I’ll wake you up right away.”
That was the thing with melatonin; it gave him nightmares. They could be the regular flashback nightmares or completely new ones that made no sense and were even more horrifying. But it also did knock him the fuck out and made his body rest, even if his mind might suffer a bit more. Then again, the nightmares didn’t come every time, and they didn’t last all night. If Evy woke him up, he could then go back to sleep.
“They’ll bring you a cot here,” she said, knowing that would sway him the most. It was a private room, a tiny one at that, but he could fit in the corner by the window.
“Okay. But not yet.”
“No, not yet. You still have eating to do.” She smirked evilly, knowing he’d laugh. He did.
THERE WEREN’T any nightmares, and Emil sent a thanks to the universe. His mom appeared in the morning and brought him a coffee from a good coffee shop and some breakfast.
“You need a shower and a shave. I brought you two a couple of things,” she handed him a duffel that had a change of clothes for both him and Makai for whenever he’d be released. “Dad told me about the call to his mother.”
The expression on Mom’s face was terrifying in its fierce protectiveness. She wasn’t about to say anything negative out loud, but she didn’t have to: her eyes were full of obvious contempt at the thought of Susan Stone.
“Yeah. How are the cats?” Emil asked, knowing the change of topic couldn’t hurt.
“Oh, they’re wonderful. I fed them yesterday and then again this morning. Cleaned the litterboxes, and I tell you that’s one thing that I don’t feel envious about!” She laughed, and Emil smiled behind the rim of his to-go cup.
She went into a long explanation about what the kittens were doing and how she didn’t mind the allergy medicine so much anymore, and how she so wished that she could have a cat.
“No, Mom. No cats for you,” Emil said firmly. “You’re allergic enough that you would have to be on the meds all the time, and even then you probably couldn’t breathe right.”
“Fine, but when you move in with Makai, I hope you know I’ll be visiting a lot more often!”
Emil almost choked on his coffee. “I—What?”
“I assume that when Makai gets out of the hospital, he’ll need around-the-clock help. He could probably tough it out, but you’d never let him do that. So why don’t you move to his place if he wants that too?” She seemed to think this was a reasonable discussion to have, somehow.
“Who’s movin’ ’n where?”
“Makai!” Emil nearly dumped his coffee onto his lap when he rushed to the bedside. “You’re awake!”
“Mm-hmm,” Makai hummed. Then he squinted at Emil. “You need a shave. You hate havin’ stubble.”
Emil’s breath hitched, and he began to cry. Mom took the coffee, and Emil clutched Makai’s hand with his own, then leaned closer to press his face against Makai’s neck.
“You fucking idiot, you almost died!” He knew his tone was all wrong because of the tears and the relief, but it needed to be said.
“I know. I’m sorry, Emil. I love you.” Makai locked his tired, slightly unfocused gaze with Emil’s, and gave him a wobbly smile.
“I love you too,” Emil replied, feeling the truth in the words in his bones. He leaned in to kiss Makai’s lips gently. “Now, do you want pain meds or a stock of what’s going on with the injuries first?”
“Pain meds. Rest can wait,” Makai rasped, and then coughed and grimaced in a way that made Emil’s lungs hurt just to see.
“Okay, let’s press the button, then.”
Monica bustled in, did her thing, and gave Makai another button he could press if the pain became too much. There were instructions and warnings and such, but Emil let Mom take notes while he went to shower and shave in the tiny attached bathroom.
Makai was right: he hated to have stubble.
MAKAI GOT better slowly but steadily. Once he could have actual conversations, they talked about how he’d cope posthospital. Emil told him what his mother had suggested, and they agreed it was the best idea. It wasn’t like they wanted to be apart anyway, and Makai would need the help.
After the first week, they let him go home. It was good, because Emil knew he wasn’t doing as well as Makai.
“So you’re completely moved in?” Makai asked, smiling at him from the passenger’s seat of his truck, which Emil’s parents had brought to Woodruff a couple of days ago.
“Yeah, there’s bits and bobs at my parents’, but everything essential is at your place. I already had to untangle Spike from my favorite knitted throw once.”
“Oh, you named your two?” Makai looked at him, seeming delighted.
“Yeah, the lighter orange boy is Spike, the gray girl is B
uffy.”
“We should so have a Buffy marathon. I mean, I’m not supposed to move about much at first, so it’s either sleeping, reading, or watching something.” Makai frowned at the thought.
Emil knew it was mostly about feeling weak. Makai hated that, just like most people would, but to him, weakness had been dangerous for a decade. Old habits were hard to break, it seemed.
“Oh, there’s one thing,” Emil said as they drove through town.
“What?”
“The townspeople might’ve gone a bit overboard with something….”
“Wait, what’s going on?” Makai looked worried now.
“It’s nothing. Let’s just say I had to say a firm no to the flowers when one of the kittens knocked over the third vase. There’s now a stack of gift cards to various places instead of flowers on the mantle.”
Makai looked dumbfounded. He’d given a statement, an official one, to the police investigating the case, and apparently he hadn’t quite understood what the cop had told him. Being a hero wasn’t something Makai thought of. It was just something he was.
“Look, they really like you. You’re a hero in town. You saved Lizzie from something nobody else could do anything about for years, Makai. Just take it and smile.” Emil squeezed Makai’s thigh and hoped it would calm him down.
“Just… no visitors, right?” Makai asked in a small voice, and Emil figured out that just the one-hour drive home had already tired him out. “I’m nobody’s hero,” he then grumbled. “I don’t… I hope anyone would help out someone weaker like that.”
“I wish they did too. In any case, there’s a bed and rowdy kittens waiting for you. And a shit-ton of different casserole dishes.”
Makai groaned and then coughed, just as they got to the cottage. Emil parked the vehicle, and Makai got himself out pretty well but looked disgusted as he walked the few steps to the edge of the parking space and spat whatever he’d coughed up into the brushes.
“Eww,” he said and very carefully rolled his shoulders. “I could do without that. Or the aches and the fucking arm.”
