Jacob's Blessing

I walked into the hospital, into the ICU. It was unbelievable, I looked and looked again into his room. There he was, there was the story, it is not all that is left of him. I kept my gaze on him, the slurring morphine coughs was concrete proof that I am in this reality.

How could I believe it? I came to my senses and walked into his room. I was scared for my father, is he in pain?

I still can't believe it: I mean, I could not or didn't have the capacity to believe it. I suspected that at any moment something would fail inside of him.

He was coughing blood.

Is it dead? I Asked Napt, I was silhouetted by the car's headlights.

Suddenly the groan of the impact of the hit and run rushed out the stag's mouth, cold air smoked out. Blood slipping out the crack of his mouth revealed that he was not going to make it off the perforated tar-laden road of the backwoods road on that moonless night.

All we can do is make sure he is comfortable, the words slowly danced out of my mouth.

Napt walked away from my car to the side of the road, lost in the dark of the wood, out of the spotlight.

What are you doing? , I asked.

From the darkness, Napt entered stage left into the Hyundai spotlight with a boulder clutched in his palms. I stepped back, becoming the audience in my seat, my shadow casting down on the scene about to play out; and, I could not move, or had the capacity to move.

Don't. , the word couldn't come out or it didn't want to come out.

You need a backbone to do what is necessary. Napt said, with the boulder raised above his head.

The final breath of the stag was cut short with the full force of a boulder raining down on him. The smoke coming out of his mouth became a rain of sangre baptizing the road, Napt, and my shoes in a crimson paint. Napt, who stood above the stag, took long breaths, letting out a cough. He motioned for me to come over but I was frozen. Through frustrated grunts, Napt proceeded to haul the ragdoll of the stag off the side of the road, into the shadows. I stood there not able to move a muscle. Life and death rewinded over and over as I stood there. My father’s hand reached out; he beckoned me to join him, raising our hands filled with a boulder to the deep starless sky. The white noise cleared as he reappeared from the murky black of the woods and into the spotlight. He walked to me with syncopated steps and took the keys from my jacket pocket.

I'll drive. He coughed out.

I blinked and was in the passenger seat. Napt's hands covered in blood clutched the steering wheel, one moves to turn on the radio and the static begins to play against the crimson road in the rear-view mirror.

I blinked and I am sitting right beside his hospital bed while he is withering and taking morphine to dull the pain hitting him at 65 miles per hour.

It's right around the corner. Napt groaned.

It is the Sabbath now and Napt is not crucified, he never picked up a cigarette; but, mass tissue and misplaced cells will see to it that he will suffer as if he was. The medical staff and doctors have made sure he is comfortable, but he is not going to be leaving the hospital on this moonless night.

He slept and I sat beside his bed watching him sleep. There is no movement in the sterile room; the air, the white noise of the TV was still. No movement besides the torment he is currently in convulsions, coughing, and blood slowly seeping out from the side of his mouth.

I am shaking listening to his pain.

Hind let loose: he giveth beautiful words, Napt let out through morphine slurs looking me in the eye.

I lock eyes with him and he blinks and holds his eyelids for a second.

I follow his eyes holding mine closed for that second.

Look. Napt said. I turned to look at him.

We drove down the backwoods making our way back home to the tune the radio playing.

I can't prepare for death any more than I already have, the radio sang.

That stag was given exactly what he needed, there was nothing more to be done for him. He bled out through the crack between his lips.

I sat shotgun in the car seeing the black stare of the stag withering in pain on the road and wondered if he could speak, then would he ask for us to euthanize him? Was he aware that he was not going to live past that moment, and the last image he would see is the silhouette of my body against the lights? We continued to drive and turned onto the newly paved road of our home. Napt stopped in the driveway and turned to me and said, He would have given us his blessing.

The radio sang out, This is the place where time reverses, dead men talk to all the pretty nurses.

Napt turned the ignition and the car was off. He mumbled under his breath before stepping out of the car, he would have done the same for us.

Napt was still and asleep, he would let out a groan in between slurring breathes. In the corner of his mouth, I see blood slipping out. He opened his eyes in extreme pain meeting mine. He went on about the pressure in his lungs and how he is sure to choke on his words, blood, and breathes. Napt coughed out blood and the words, from the prey, my son, thou art gone up....I wait for Thy salvation, O Lord, he grabbed my hand and looked me in the eye.

I turned away.

I walk out of the room, shaking. I stand outside the doorway looking out into the ICU; charts, staff running around unaware of the corpses on the cusp of death lying right in front of them. I step into the middle of the poorly-lit hall of the ICU. From the corner of my eye, I see it; a black stag walking with syncopated steps towards me; walking past the other sick and corpses, the world around it unaware steadily driving itself towards me. Step by step it comes closer, and I am frozen. It stops in front of me our eyes meet and let out a high-pressure snort, lowering its head motioned for me to follow. I move with him, unfrozen. I came to Napt’s doorway from the dark of the hall, and the black stag stares into his room, welcoming me onto the stage.

I turn back to Napt's room.

The crimson air rose out from his mouth. I entered back into his view from the left meeting his eye.

I let out, You spoke unto me and blessed me...you giveth beautiful words. I lifted his head and pulled a pillow from under his head.

I began to smother him with the pillow that was meant for his comfort. He did not struggle when the black of the pillow rained down on him. His eyes were open and staring out at the static of the TV behind me; he sees the silhouette of my body against the static of the TV. I hold the pillow over his head, his hand reaches for my wrists, his grip is tight then it is loose; He is in front of me, cold and still. It is not to be believed and I denied myself that truth, I am ready to wrap him up in cloth. I leave his room, out of the ICU and out of the hospital before any of the medical staff could notice, it would be ruled that he died peacefully in his sleep- which would not be far from the truth. I got into our car and drove off into the darkness of the moonless night towards our house.

I drove past a pitch-black back road with cracked asphalt and overgrown weeds until I finally came close to the paved road of our house and slammed the brakes when I saw movement seep into the side of my eye. In the middle of the road, in the spotlight, I was eye to eye with a black stag I lock eyes with him and he blinks, and I follow his eyes holding mine closed.

Reviews

[01morepage]

Great story, Emanuel. Keep writing, my friend!

[Emanuel V]

Thank you! There is more on the way!