Rain Ending

Possible Last Chapter

Last Chapter

 

They released Nicholas at 5 am on a Tuesday.  Though summer was still far off and the air cold, the lengthening days were already showing themselves.  The sky awakened gradually at first, a tentative, fragile purpling as Nicholas began to jog Southward down First Avenue.  His legs pumped out a steady beat, the dawn gained strength, and the sky grayed as the clamor of city life began its daily cycle.  Morning people began to ply the streets; sanitation first, then taxis, then joggers, merging awkwardly with black-clad figures stumbling bleary-eyed from hidden side doors of after-hours nightclub.  The women looked used and wore tired dresses; the men in unwashed Italian suits stumbling and braying like goggle-eyed lost princes, licking coke from nearly empty baggies as they plodded on.

The hospital was nearly empty.  Nicholas ran straight past the protesting security guard, who hesitated for a few long moments while he considered rising from his padded chair for pursuit.  Nicholas slowed as he reached the first turn in the corridor.  Several attendants--nurses, orderlies, maybe even a doctor, he couldn’t tell--stood clustered around a nurse’s station, talking and laughing quietly.  They quieted as he approached, mildly apprehensive at his appearance, but mostly used to seeing people at their worst. 

The guard was nearly on him when he felt a gentle tug on his arm.  He turned and was about to say something to the huge black woman, but she pushed him slightly behind her as she lurched forward towards the guard.

“Lucy, d****t what are you doing!” the guard stammered, clearly taxed by the short run down the hallway.  “You know people can’t be in here like that.” He was trying to maneuver around the big nurse, who stuck a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Wendell! Get back to your station.  Everything’s under control,” she said in a slow, measured voice.  “We’ve been expecting this boy for some time.  Now git!”  Wendell stood glaring and huffing for nearly a minute, one hand on a radio, the other on a brand-new looking nightstick, then visibly sagged.  “S**t, Lucy”, he said with a condescending smile.  “Why didn’t you say so? I could’ve had breakfast ready.” He started walking away, then stopped and turned halfway back, addressing Nicholas this time.  “Use another exit when you leave, boy.  I don’t like the looks.”

Nicholas nodded, but the man was already on his way.  “You got some set, kid,” she said to him, leading him towards the wall.  “From the looks of you and what I read, you should be a patient here.” He was about to ask which room Jill was in, when he realized what she said.  “What you read?” he asked.

Nurse Lucy smiled broadly.  “Newspapers, fool.  You’ve got some story.  They were here for days waiting for you.  Then some other story came up.  They still come by in the daytime, hulking around.  Said you’d be in jail for a long time.  But I figured you’d show up here soon enough.”

“And Jill?” He was about to ask more, but she interrupted him.

“Was the one of the saddest things I ever seen.  The poor girl was covered in blood.  Skull fracture, it turned out.  She was screaming your name.  Could hear it through the whole wing, screaming that they killed you.  Over and over, with her face smashed in like that, screaming, even after she had no screams left.  Ten minutes, on and on, until one of the docs sedated her.”  She turned to look down the hall for a moment, then swung her gaze back to Nicholas.  “Not so sure you should go in there.”

Nicholas was about to protest, but the big nurse continued, looking straight at him.  “I was with her, comfortin’ best I could as the sedatives worked in and they prepped her for surgery.  “I was off shift already, but sometimes we hang around for a bit.  Hospital’s our whole life, some of us…Anyway, I didn’t have the heart to tell her the guy she came in with was DOA.  Thought he was Nicolas ‘til we read the papers.  She fell asleep saying your name and hasn’t woken up in over two weeks.  Medically induced coma, but they can’t bring her out of it.  She’ll do it on her own, I think.”

Nicholas stared at her as she smiled and gently squeezed his hand.  “Might be some trouble, me being here,” he said softly. 

“Don’t worry much ‘bout those things, Got enough troubles inside these walls, let me tell you.  You want my unasked opinion; you may give the girl a heart attack if an’ when she wakes up.  The docs probably won’t let you stay, but you can go sit for a spell if you like.”

Nicholas though about it for a minute, unsure if he should even stay.  Unsure about a lot of things.  Finally decided, he stood up.  Lucy saw his face harden and was about to say something else, but then was just quiet.

“I’ll stay until she wakes up,” he said quietly.  Then, I promise, I’ll leave.”

Nurse Lucy stood in front of him, taller by several inches.  “Can’t help you with the docs,” she said.  “But Wendell will keep his mouth shut, I’ll give you that.”

Nicholas smiled at her as she led him down the hall by the arm.  The hospital was quiet, calm.  Machines hummed and winked.  Hospital staff in white tennis shoes padded around quickly with no apparent meaning.  People mourned and healed and suffered visibly behind half-opened doors.  Many were alone, staring at walls and muted televisions.

Suddenly, Nurse Lucy stopped.  “Last door on your left,” she whispered.  She gave Nicholas a quick hug and then turned to leave.  This time Nicholas stopped her by the arm.  When she turned, Nicholas thanked her and kissed her on the cheek.  “And thanks for being with her, Nurse.  I’m sure it helped.”

She just shrugged.  “Doing my job, boy,” she said dismissively, but Nicholas could tell she kept the compliment. 

He walked silently into the room and pulled a chair next to the bed, up close, arranging it so the door would hit him when it opened.  He’d never been so tired in his life.  Jill’s head was bandaged, but she looked better than he had prepared himself for.  He looked at each of the machines, studying them in turn, then picked up the chart and recognized his fathers’ handwriting.  Nicholas smiled and shook his head, mystified as always at the mysterious business of family.  He didn’t recall his father ever saying a single word to Jill, but there it was.  This wasn’t even his hospital, but doctors seemed able to do whatever they wanted, when it suited them. 

He didn’t understand much of the information in the chart, so he went back to studying the machines, anything to avoid looking at Jill.  They looked innocent enough, running their cycles, winking back the answers.  Not so different from his mother’s last days, random electronics documenting the cancer trespassing through her veins.

Finally his gaze fell back to Jill.  Someone had brushed her hair.  Her face looked a little lopsided, purplish, swollen towards the right eye.  The bandages bothered him.  He fought the urge to rip them off, to see her as she was, before.  He wondered how different her life might have been.  He wondered, too, if he would ever stop feeling responsible for her.

He awoke with a start when the door slammed into the chair, nearly knocking him to the floor.  Two fathers walked in, all bluster and energy. 

His own glanced at him as he walked around to check on Jill.  Her father walked straight up to him, inches from his face.  Nicholas had expected him to be angry, and knew he had to face him sooner or later.  The man was tough, with the controlled tranquility that comes with a man used to anger.  Jill was an Army, and her father, though retired, still retained the bearing and intimidation of a uniform.  They had never liked each other.

The two men stared at each other as Dr.  Hanson checked Jill.  Nurse Lucy, Wendell, and several others looked in from beyond the door.  Nicholas waited for the man’s crushing hands around his throat.  It would be a relief, he thought. 

“Should’ve been there, Nicholas.  This is your fault.” He shook his head in defeat.  “Should’ve been there.”

Nicholas said nothing, and the man turned away to sit with his daughter, whispering in her ear.  Nicholas watched his own father carefully, and with some pride.  The man was competent, focused.  He seemed not to notice the room or the people.  You could sense his intelligence, his determination.  You looked at him and felt no harm would ever come to his patients.  Finally he finished, said a few words to Jill’s father and then walked outside.  Nicholas was about to leave, but Jill’s father appeared silently next to him. 

He spoke softly, not looking once at Nicholas.  “I have some connections in places; people tell me things shouldn’t be told.  Comes with the job, I suppose.” Nicholas remained silent.  “Can’t say I blame you, though.  Probably would have done worse myself, but Jill’s got no Mom, and my place is here with her.  Can’t trust these doctors.” He spoke quietly, as if dreaming aloud and Nicholas had to strain to hear him.  “Wish you had been there,” he whispered.  “She shouldn’t be in this damn city.  Stay here if you think it will help her wake up.  But let her get on with her life.  There’s so many things she still wants to do, and this thing will follow you, and her, for the rest of your lives.  I’ve done things boy, things which changed me, things which slowly killed Jill’s mom.  Not a single day goes by where I don’t wish I had just stayed out in a jungle somewhere and let those two women live the life they deserve.”  Jill’s father fell quiet again, and then turned to face Nicholas.  Nicholas looked straight into clear, blue, intelligent eyes, masking a balance of sadness and anger not often seen in sane people.  “Jill loves you, Nicholas.  I know that.  I don’t know you at all, but I know that.” Tears welled, but he seemed unaffected, unaware, even. 

“I’ll stay till she wakes up,” Nicholas said.  Without another word, he left.

 

*  *  *

 

Dr.  Hanson said nothing until they had their coffee.  The man was completely unreadable, carrying many of the traits Nicholas so disliked in himself.  “Did you meet with the lawyer?”

Nicholas considered his answer carefully.  So it was his father who sent the lawyer.  Nicholas had thought so, but never met the man.  Apparently, he had had some effect on the interrogators.  After three days the beatings had stopped and they barely spoke to him at all.   “They never let me see him.  Never charged with a crime and all.”

His father slowly stirred his coffee, not looking at Nicholas at all.  It was a maddeningly annoying gesture.  “She’s got about a 50% chance, I’d say.  They induced the coma almost immediately, so, if and when she exits, there would be no lasting damage.  So we think, anyway.”

“This thing, it’s over now?” he asked, suddenly looking at Nicholas.

Nicholas was wondering the same thing.  Truth was, it wasn’t over.  They wouldn’t charge him with a crime, but at some point they’d come after him, some change in people or policy and it would be looked into again, discussed.  People rarely got away with murder anymore.  Yes, somewhere, he’d face this thing again and maybe not be so lucky.  But they’d wait a while, he expected.  Let it marinate some.  Probably until they thought he softened up, or had something to lose. 

Nicholas stared at his father, his own eyes cold and distant again.  “Yes, Dad.  It’s over.”

His father sighed, blowing air through pursed lips as he often did after completing some difficult task.  “Yeah, well.  I’m glad you’re all right.   B***h of a thing, really.”

“Thanks.” Nicholas could think of nothing else to say to the man.  He turned and walked away.  Halfway towards the door, his father spoke again. 

“That lawyer, Nikko? Wasn’t me, though I had my own monitoring as best they could.  Was the girl’s father.  Strange man, that one.” Nicholas heard the words, but set his jaw and kept walking. 

 

*  *  *

 

Twelve days later, Jill woke up from her coma.  It was such as subtle thing that Nicholas didn’t even realize at first.  He was asleep in the chair with his head sideways on the bed.  Thought he was dreaming, hearing his name whispered, Nicholas…Nicholas…so softly it was like the wind.  It was dark in the room, still the middle of the night.  The machines blinked ominously, giving no indication as to their observations.  Again, Nicholas…

“Nicholas, are you here? Are you here, Nicholas?” He raised his head slowly and looked at her in the darkness.  His voice was hoarse and soft.  “I’m here, Jill.” He took her hand and squeezed gently.  “I’m here.”

She struggled to sit up, not getting very far.  “How long have I been here? Last thing I remember was riding in the ambulance with you.  I thought you were dead, Nicholas.” She started crying softly and leaned into his arms.  “What happened, Nicholas? Who were those people…? Her voice trailed off as sleep came for her again.

She would find out soon enough that it wasn’t he but another man, Pat, who was with her in their bed when they came for Nicholas.  Pat, who somehow saved her, but couldn’t save himself.  Nicholas wondered how much heart she had left.  She would find her own story, one she would have to live with.

He thought she was sleeping again, then heard her crying softly.  “I don’t remember, Nicholas.  Someone coming into the room, bouncing around in the ambulance with you.” Her voice was weak, fragile.  “So confusing.  Where’s Pat? And my dad?”

Nicholas said nothing.  Jill’s head fell further down.  “It’s all so confusing…”

“Shhhh…get some rest.  I’ll go tell the doctor to look in on you.” Tears streamed down his face as he silently slid forward on the chair to stand up.

“I won’t see you again, will I, Nicholas.  I know that look you get.  What happened back there?” She was slurring her words deeply.  “Tell me, Nicholas.”

Nicholas said nothing.  He was kneeling by the bed, utterly silent, holding her hand in both of his. 

Finally, when her breathing changed and she was sleeping, he slowly released her hand moved to stand up.

“Wait.” He heard it so faintly he thought he imagined it.   But when he turned back, her eyes were open.  “Wait, Nicholas.  Your mother…” She seemed to have trouble finding words, phrases.  “Your mother told me before she died that you would never survive being loved….Something like that…That you could never love back.  I hated her for that, Nicholas, even at the funeral.  I hated her.” She was crying harder now.  He looked into her eyes, slowly stroking her blonde hair.  Her eyelids kept fluttering closed.  She worked her mouth strangely, moving her jaw around like she was trying to remember how it worked. 

“But you did love me, Nicholas, didn’t you? I know you did.” She closed her eyes and smiled softly as she slid further into the pillow. 

Nicholas leaned forward and kissed her forehead.  “I do love you, Jill.” He kissed her again.  “I do.  Always have.”

He stood and looked at her for a long minute.  He had meant to say more, much, much more, but it all seemed washed out of him now.  He did love Jill.  He knew it then just as he knew it now.  And he would wonder always about her, and the many people she’d been and would become.  As he stood to leave she squeezed his hand once more, and with her eyes closed, mouthed the words silently:  “Thank you, love.  Nikko…”

Her father was waiting outside the room.  The hospital was very quiet, the reporters either long gone or camped outside somewhere, and even Wendell’s voice could not be heard.  Nicholas said goodbye to Jill’s father, told him she had awoken briefly but didn’t remember much.  Visibly relieved, Jill’s father thanked him, and then hugged him.

“You know I hope I never see you again,” he whispered.  “But I am grateful for what you did, and proud, if I can say that without sounding too condescending.  I’ve known very few men of courage.  Thought I was one once, but…”

Nicholas lingered for a moment as Jill’s father stared off somewhere.  “Take care of yourself,” he said, somewhat distantly.  “Take care of Jill.  She’s going to need you for a long time.”

 

*  *  *

 

The staff parted silently as he walked down the hallway towards the nurse’s station.  He passed without a word.  Nurse Lucy was not there, off shift presumably, and he was grateful for that.  He walked slowly towards the exit door, stepping softly, steadily.  It seemed much longer going out.  Wendell was about to render another dull complaint as he walked through the door, but somehow thought better of it.

The sun hit him hard, full on now.  He felt like he hadn’t seen it in months.  The rain had stopped days ago, but he hadn’t even noticed from the hospital.  He walked slowly across the street, car horns blaring at him, the ever-present policemen staring with dull, bovine suspicion. 

When he reached the park across the street, he looked up and saw Susanna standing in the shade with one of her trademark floppy hats covering half her face.  Nicholas wondered how long she’d been there. 

“Hey, Nikko?” She slowly closed the distance between them and hugged him for a full minute.  “Want some coffee? Food?”

Nicholas shook his head slowly.  He hugged her again, longer this time.  “I need to go for a walk, Susanna.  I don’t know what I want.”

When he released her, she was crying.  He noticed the faint lines of makeup on her cheeks.  She’d been crying before. 

“You’d be a perfect man, if you weren’t so fucked up.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him softly, full on the lips.  She looked up at him, still crying, but with a slight smile on her lips. 

“Yeah, I know, Susanna.  I know.  Be patient with me.”

“Whatever.  Go walk it off.  Maybe visit the gorillas at the Zoo.  They always seem to work for you.  I’ll be around if you need me.”

He grabbed her and kissed her again.  “Thanks, Susanna.  Really, for everything.” They leaned into each other for a minute longer, people swelling around them.

He walked down the sidewalk, sensing her watching him.  His steps were measured, deliberate.  The sun was warm on his back.  A few courageous plants were beginning to sprout in the beds bordering the park, having waited silently in the cold for the winter to pass.  Squirrels were out in full force, plying for nuts.  Off in the park, children played with their parents, full of laughter and bluster.

He slowed until he was barely moving, thinking about Susanna and Jill and Pat.  The muscles in his legs flexed slowly but strongly.  He thought about the Gorillas and the plants and Gracie and his mother and his students with all the things to come.   He moved slowly, painfully, as if just learning to walk, watching each step being placed, minding the borders, seeing the pavement slide under his feet.  He raised his head, squinting briefly at the sun, feeling the familiar burn on his cheeks. 

He walked a few more steps, watching the new plants just breaking the soil, stretching to the sun.  Boots, dogs, winters, construction.  Different dangers, all of us.  Susanna was right.  He missed the Gorillas.  He missed Gracie and Jill.  He missed his mother. 

He thought about the rain.  He thought about Jill and her father, and his father.  He smiled fully, wondering what new adventure Donnie might be on at this moment.  Almost unconsciously, he glanced over his shoulder and could just make out Susanna in her bright red jacket.  She smiled at him.  He stopped walking and smiled back.