by T F Lince
All of a sudden, Dean’s face twitched and he let out an audible groan.
Sarah leant up to Dean’s ear. “I love you, Dean Harrison, always have, always will.”
“I love you too, Sarah.”
“Did you hear that?” Sarah asked. Jodie and Darren nodded.
“Say it again, Mum.”
“What? What did I say? I don’t know what I said, Jodie.”
“That ‘I love you, Dean Harrison’ thing, Mum.”
“I love you, Dean Harrison.”
“I love you too, Sarah.” First one and then the other eye forced its way open before closing again as light hit retinas that had been in darkness for five months.
Dean tried again, this time really slowly. He could see blurred faces looking at him; he had to blink a few times to readjust his eyes.
“Where am I?”
Sarah gave him a kiss.
“You’re home, Dean, exactly where you should be. I love you so, so much.”
Dean looked at Jodie. “Hi, JoJo, thanks for the chess tips.”
Jodie hugged her dad then took the opportunity of giving her mother an ‘I told you so’ look in typical smug teenager style.
“Dean, I don’t know if you remember me. My name’s Darren. I’ve been looking after you for five months now. It’s lovely to see you are back with us, but we can’t take things too quickly.”
“Five months? Really?”
Sarah was stroking his hand. “Last time I saw you, Dean, was at Jodie’s school. I was horrible to you. It’s all my fault.”
Dean gripped her hand tightly.
“Sarah, I have been an idiot, I know that now. I have the best wife and daughter I could ever wish for, but somehow work became more important. Work will never be more important than you two.”
Darren interrupted before Sarah could reply.
“Dean, you need to rest now. We will monitor you, but you need time. I don’t know how you have come back from where you have come back from. To be honest, there are some things that have happened that none of us can comprehend.”
Dean looked at Sarah and Jodie. “He’s right, isn’t he?” They both agreed. “I’m frightened, Sarah. What if I go to sleep and don’t wake up here? I couldn’t live without you both – you know that, don’t you?”
“Dean, we’re just so happy you are back with us. You won’t be going anywhere. Jodie and I won’t let you.”
Sarah gave him a kiss. Jodie followed.
“Night-night, Dean, sweet dreams.” Sarah hugged Dean like there was no tomorrow. There would be a tomorrow, though, and Dean would be in it. “Look after him, Darren.”
Darren looked at Sarah.
“I’ve had five months’ practice, Sarah. I’m sure I can look after him a bit longer.”
“Thank you, Darren, you’re a star.”
“I know.” Darren smiled. “Now, Dean, get some rest. We have some catching up to do. You are what we call in medical terms ‘a miracle’.”
Chapter 36 – Home Is Where The Heart Is
Although Dean tried telling Sarah, Jodie and Darren what he knew over the next couple of weeks, he kept most of it to himself. It was not so much that he thought no one would believe him, more that some things just didn’t need to be said. They were his thoughts, he’d seen some strange things, and he didn’t fancy a visit to the loony bin. Besides, had it really happened? No one knew, least of all Dean.
Sarah and Jodie visited every day. As soon as Dean was able to sit up, Jodie beat him at chess, and Dean had only won one game since. Once he had regained some strength, he started building up the muscles up in his arms and legs, and before long he was walking naturally. All the physical symptoms of his accident had gone, and his mind was as sharp as ever. He even started looking at the trading trends again, giving the doctors and nurses tips on making a few quid. He was very rarely off the mark.
A month or so after Dean had come round, everything was normal. In fact, everything was on the hunky end of dory, and there was no need to keep him in hospital any longer.
Darren entered the room. “I’ve just phoned Sarah. She’s coming to take you home. I’m so proud of you, Dean. Sarah said I was a star when you came around, but there is only one star in this room and that’s you. Enjoy your second chance; you have earned it.”
Dean stood up and put out his hand, and Darren shook it.
“Thank you, Darren, Sarah said how much you did for me. I really, really appreciate it.”
“She was a good doctor, you know, Dean. We are always on the lookout for good doctors here.”
Dean looked at Darren.
“Sarah always talks about coming back; she only hasn’t because of me. That will change, Darren, I promise you.”
“Well, I think it’s about time you got out of your PJs, Dean. Sarah has put some clothes in your wardrobe.”
Dean got dressed, and before long he had Jodie running up to him. “Dad, you’re coming home. I can’t wait!”
Sarah was right behind her daughter.
“Dean Harrison, I believe you’re coming home today. Are you ready?” There were smiles all over the ward. The nurses formed a line ready for hugs and kisses before he left, and Sarah had brought some flowers and chocolates for Dean to give them. Which he did, along with a special hug from his heart.
Dean asked Sarah for the car keys as they entered the car park.
“Dean, you’re not allowed to drive until you have been assessed. Darren told you – head injury and all that.”
“What happened to my car after the accident?”
Sarah looked at him.
“Dean, we have a lot of catching up to do. I never liked the Porsche anyway. Bit of a hairdresser’s car.”
Jodie sniggered.
“Did I write it off? It was the fox’s fault.”
Sarah gave him a hug. “Dean, sometimes there is no one to blame but yourself. Remember that.”
Dean knew she was right, but there were a lot of gaps in his memory. He remembered more from the other life he had been leading; real life was still a blur.
“OK, driving is probably not a good idea anyway. I love you both to bits. I can’t wait to get home.”
They drove the thirty-minute journey home that Sarah had been making every day to see Dean since his crash.
“Jack and Holly have been amazing. They’ve kept Jodie company and Jack’s been every day to see you.”
“I know, he told me.” Dean smiled. He loved Jack, but his friend was not the best visitor. He would sit and talk bollocks for hours on end. Dean didn’t mind, though; listening to a load of bollocks was what he needed right now to catch up on the world. Good friends had shown they were good friends when he needed them, and Dean welcomed Jack and all that came with him.
It was bin day. Sarah gave the bin men a wave as she passed the wagon; they often came up the drive and got the bins when Sarah forgot to put them out, which at least deserved a wave.
Sarah parked at the side of the road as the drive was full of the welcoming committee’s cars. Sarah’s mother and father were there, as were Jack and Holly. Sarah headed for the boot to take out the cases, and Jodie opened her dad’s door. Dean looked at the house that he had last seen over six months ago now.
“Thanks, JoJo.”
Further up the road, one of the bin men was struggling with a heavy bin. The driver jumped out to help, not waiting to check whether he had engaged the parking brake properly. As he grabbed the other handle of the heavy bin, the wagon started to roll down the hill, the driver and bin men in hot pursuit.
Jodie left Dean’s side as his family and friends greeted him and went to help her mum with the bags. They were so busy looking at Dean, thinking how happy they were to have him back, they didn’t notice the driverless bin truck gaining speed and careering down the road. The driver had given up on the fruitless chase; he had his hands on his knees, watching on in horror.
As Sarah and Jodie started to cross the road with the bags, Dean saw the
truck getting closer and closer. “Sarah, Jodie, watch out!” They stopped in the road, not knowing what he meant. What did they have to watch out for? The truck was twenty feet away and getting closer by the second.
Life went into slow motion. Dean heard his own voice in his head: “I would die for them, sir, so if that’s what it takes, then so be it..” He mustered up all his energy and started to run towards them.
The truck was hurtling closer and closer. Dean’s run turned into a sprint. He arrived at speed and pushed Sarah and Jodie to the safety of the pavement, then took the full force of the out of control truck. The truck had no sympathy for Dean’s trials of the last few months, its back wheels running over him for good measure. After dismissing Dean’s body, it smashed into a lamppost to bring itself to a halt.
Dean looked over to Sarah and Jodie, who had got to their feet and were screaming on the pavement. The waiting guests were running from the house. Dean’s vision blurred; he was struggling to breathe; his eyes were drifting in and out of focus. Sarah and Jodie were running to him. His dying thought was that they were safe. He closed his eyes and they were gone.
Dean’s eyes flickered; he was in so much pain. He tried to open them to see Sarah and Jodie one more time, but Death appeared on the side of the road and clicked his bony fingers. Sarah, Jodie and everything around them paused instantly – the steam billowing out of the bin lorry; the large bin man in his florescent jacket; Dean’s reception committee.
Dean’s pain subsided. He looked at Death and peeled himself out of his mangled body. Standing over himself, he gazed down at his corpse. He’d looked better. One of his legs was pointing in a direction that nobody’s leg should be pointing in. His face was bruised and bloody. Dean pulled an ‘ouch’ face, thinking that had to hurt, then he remembered that it had indeed hurt.
He felt his ribs. There was no pain now; it had all gone. He’d left the pain in his mangled body.
Dean took a last look at the body that had served him so well over the years. It deserved some respect at least. Then he addressed Death.
“Thank you. They mean so much to me. If you allowed me back for that, then I am eternally grateful.”
Death gave him a smile, and Death never smiled, then pointed his stick to the other side of the road. Dean’s guides were lined up: the train guard, Mrs McCauley, David the barman, Molly with her dog, and of course, Benjie the clown. To the left of him was Betty, but no Albert. Dean asked Death’s permission to thank them and say goodbye. Death gestured with his cane and a flick of his head in their direction that it was OK.
Dean could see Sarah and Jodie in suspended animation. Before speaking to his guides, he walked over to them. Their faces were frozen in sheer horror at what had just unfolded in front of their eyes. He cupped Sarah’s face before kissing them both. Dean was crying; he could see a tear suspended halfway down Sarah’s face. He mopped it up with his finger, rolling the tear back up her face into her eye.
He licked his finger and tasted the salty tear. “I love you, Sarah, always have, always will. And you, young lady, I will be watching over you. God help you when you get a boyfriend.”
He took his time – he had lots of it – and looked at his guides. As he approached them, Benjie the clown let out a single clap, and by the time he reached them, they were all clapping and cheering. Dean did not think what had happened deserved such joviality.
The clown met him in the middle of the road.
“Dean, only five or six have ever got back on our watch. We are so proud of you.”
Dean looked at him.
“Proud of me? Well it might have escaped your attention, but I didn’t last long. At least they are safe.” He looked over to Sarah and Jodie still in mid scream. “And I suppose they will get used to me not being around.”
The other guides came over. Dean gave Mrs McCauley and Molly a hug, the train guard shook his hand, as did David, and they all wished him good luck. Then he approached Betty.
“Thanks, Betty.”
She smiled. “What for, Dean?”
Dean embraced her.
“You know what for. By the way, where’s Albert?”
Betty looked at Death; he shook his head.
“He’s not with us all the time, Dean, but say hello for me if you see him.”
Dean had seen the shake of Death’s head and thought better of pursuing this line of questioning.
“OK, Betty, I will. So, am I missing something?”
The clown let out a laugh, and the other guides all joined in.
“You think you’re back, don’t you?” Dean raised his eyebrows and gave the clown a ‘what type of question is that?’ look. “Dean, this was your final test. If he allowed you back, would you do what you said you would do? Remember, you promised him.”
Dean looked at the clown and then at Death.
“I said I would die for Sarah and Jodie.”
“You certainly proved that you would, don’t you think?” The clown shook Dean’s hand. “Well done, Dean.”
The guides let out a joint ‘he’s finally got it’ laugh. Then they disappeared one by one, waving and smiling at Dean as they evaporated into thin air. Molly’s dog Oscar even let out a bark as he disappeared, which Dean took as his way of saying goodbye. This left just Dean, the clown and Death.
“Dean, do you remember when we were chatting in the circus?” asked Benjie. “I said that you’d made an old clown very happy before he goes.”
“Yes, I remember. So where are you going? You didn’t answer me?”
“When we agree to become guides, we see quite a few things. It’s all about whether to live or die – you get that, right?”
Dean did get that. Benjie continued, “Once we agree to work for Death, he tells how long we have left. We can’t do this forever.”
Dean looked at Benjie. He was starting to fade like the other guides before him.
“And how long have you got, Benjie?” Dean could hardly see him.
“On 2 November 2017 at 3.20am, I will get to see Bobo again, so don’t worry about me.” As Benjie faded out of sight, he left a faint voice. “Take care, Dean, and say hello to Jodie from me.” Then he was gone.
Dean turned to face Death. OK, what next? he thought.
Death held out his hand, his fingers moving back and forth as if he wanted payment.
“Oh, the coin. I guess I won’t be needing it for a while.” Death smiled again, which was unnerving. Two smiles in a day – he must have been after some kind of record.
Dean took his danake from his pocket and placed it into Death’s hand. Death put it in his jacket, at the same time retrieving the ancient book. He waved his hand over the book. Looking at the black mark against Dean’s calendar, he pressed his finger on it and the mark turned green before disappearing altogether.
Death was about to close his book when he looked at Dean and smiled again. Dean was alone with Death, and Death seemed to be enjoying their time together. He waved his hand across his book once more, shuffling the pages back and forth until he found what he was looking for.
The page was entitled Hugo Hodgkinson, which was not a name Dean recognised. Death flicked to November and showed Dean a black mark on the first, Jamaica, 10.26am. Then Death slowly closed the book with an almost impish smile, as if to say, “You accidently saw that. It wasn’t my fault that you were looking.”
Dean nodded and made a mental note to himself: Hugo Hodgkinson, 1 November, 10.26 am, Jamaica.
Then Death slammed the book shut and disappeared, leaving just Dean and the road.
Part Five – The Whitby Trader
Chapter 37 – Penny For Your Thoughts, My Dear
“Did you hear that?” Sarah asked. Jodie and Darren nodded.
“Say it again, Mum.”
“What? What did I say? I don’t know what I said, Jodie.”
“That ‘I love you, Dean Harrison’ thing, Mum.”
“I love you, Dean Harrison.”
“I love you too
, Sarah.” First one and then the other eye forced its way open before closing again as light hit retinas that had been in darkness for five months.
Dean tried again, this time really slowly. He could see blurred faces looking at him; he had to blink a few times to readjust his eyes.
“Where am I?”
Sarah gave him a kiss.
“You’re home, Dean, exactly where you should be. I love you so, so much.”
Dean looked at Jodie. “Hi, JoJo, thanks for the chess tips.”
Jodie hugged her dad then took the opportunity of giving her mother an ‘I told you so’ look in typical smug teenager style.
Alarms suddenly shrieked from the bed next to Dean’s. Darren left Dean’s bedside immediately while hospital staff appeared from all angles, pulling a curtain around the bed. But not before Dean had got a sight of the man lying on the bed.
It was Mr Thompson.
An elderly woman was ushered away, screaming and crying, and Dean listened with his wife and daughter to the frantic efforts of the medical staff to save the old man. The panic continued for five or six minutes, then there was silence.
Doctors and nurses appeared from behind the curtain, their heads held low, taking off rubber gloves and discarding them in the bins. They had lost another one – they had good days and bad days in the medical world, and today they’d had both. The high of Dean coming out of his coma was counteracted by the stark reality of the job they did. They were hurt because Mr Thompson was gone.
Darren was the last out. Dean spoke to him.
“Darren, don’t worry. Mr Thompson had had enough. He wanted to go.”
Darren looked at him.
“OK, Dean, one, how did you know he was called Mr Thompson, and two, how do you know he was ready to go?”
Dean was annoyed with himself for speaking without thinking. He would have to tread more carefully or Darren would have him taken off to have his head examined, and he’d had enough of that to last him a lifetime.
