3.
A Night of Memories and Sighs
Later…
The drugs had carried Colin off to sleep, but for
Ryan, sleep was practically impossible. He sat awake
in the deafening silence of the third-floor trauma
unit with his eyes unfocused on the sterile white
floor. His thoughts were random and directionless,
touching on everything and staying on nothing. It was
as if he were drifting.
Voices filled accusation (the same unspoken accusation
in her father’s voice) stabbed him over and over
again: ‘Why weren’t you with her? Why didn’t you
protect her?’ And his own guilt. She’d asked him to
stay home with her that morning--begged him,
practically--and he’d refused.
“‘Are you sick?’” he’d asked her, when
she started
pleading with him.
“‘No,’” she’d replied, dropping her
eyes. “‘I just
don’t want you to go, that’s all.’”
And his own callous response: “‘I’ve got to be
there
today. I’m sorry, but it’s very important. I’ve
got
three meetings this morning and rehearsals right after
that.’”
Very important. What a joke.
Only after Colin had fallen asleep had Ryan shed what
tears he could. He was still numb from the shock, so
he didn’t have many in him to cry. They had dried up
quickly, and had left him with an empty ache in his
heart and a dry burning in his eyes.
A rustling sound from the bed snapped Ryan out of his
half-dozing musings in a hurry. He turned quickly and
saw a pair of wounded hazel eyes looking at him. It
nearly broke his heart to see so much pain on that
face. “Col?” he asked quietly, breaking the fragile
silence that surrounded them.
Colin sighed. It was such a terribly empty sound.
“You’re still here. Thought this was a dream,” he
said thickly. “I hoped…I’d wake up a-and none of
this
would have happened.”
At a loss for anything to say, Ryan settled for a nod.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“We didn’t even see it coming,” the Canadian
continued, as if Ryan hadn’t spoken. “All of a
sudden, I looked up and there it was.” His face
crumpled in anguish, and tears seeped through his
closed eyelids. “Dammit,” he muttered, frustration
carrying through in his tone. “I thought I was done
with this.”
Ryan didn’t say a word; there really wasn’t much to
say. Instead, he simply touched Colin’s shoulder
again, letting his old friend know without words that
he was there. Colin reached out blindly and grabbed
the hand and drew it to his chest, once again like a
drowning man clinging his only means of salvation.
It didn’t last long. Colin’s sobs tapered into
sniffles, and eventually, he released Ryan’s hand.
“’M sorry,” he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably on
the
bed.
“Don’t,” Ryan said. “Just…don’t
worry about it.”
Colin sighed again and nodded. “I miss her already.”
“I know, buddy.”
“It’s just…it’s so unfair.”
“I know.”
“I’m so tired. How long did I sleep?”
“A few hours, I guess, after the nurse took your
temperature.” Ryan rested his chin in the palm of his
left hand. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured.
“I’m not
going anywhere.”
“You should get some sleep, too. You look tired.”
“Don’t worry about me. Just get some rest.”
Colin sighed another one of those empty-sounding sighs
and coughed weakly. “I don’t know if I can. I feel
like hell.”
As if on cue, Debbie, the nurse that had been in and
out all night, wandered into the room. On seeing that
Colin was awake, she looked accusingly at Ryan. “You
shouldn’t have woken him up. He needs his sleep.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Ryan muttered sourly. “I
didn’t wake
him up.”
“If you’re going to have an attitude with me-”
Ryan stood up and shook his head. “Excuse me for a
minute. I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right
back.” He shot the nurse a glare and retreated into
the hallway. She’d been giving him a hard time for
most of the evening, and he couldn’t figure out why.
It was kind of like she blamed him for some unnamed
crime, and it was annoying as all hell.
Instead of going to the bathroom, he headed outside
for a minute. The night air was wonderfully cool on
his face and hands. He wished he had a cigarette, but
in all the confusion, he’d forgotten all about
bringing them with him. Now was the first time all
night he’d even felt a craving. That probably
explained why he felt so edgy all of a sudden. There
was nothing to be done, though, so he supposed he’d
just have to live with it.
With a much cooler head, he returned to Colin’s room.
Fortunately, the nurse had disappeared, and Colin
appeared to be sleeping. She’d probably given him
another shot of morphine or something. ‘Wish I could
have one,’ he thought as he dropped back down into his
chair. His back was stiff and aching from such
prolonged sitting.
“Ryan?” Colin’s voice drifted up sleepily.
“That
you?”
“Yeah, Col,” Ryan answered quietly. “You
okay?”
“Mm-hmm. Tired. ’Night.” Colin smiled a little as
he drifted away again.
“Good night,” Ryan murmured. He leaned forward with
his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands to
continue his vigil. Although he was more exhausted
than he could ever remember being, he still could not
sleep.
He spent the rest of the night mourning his wife, his
son, and Deb. The question of why was never far from
his mind, nor was the bitterness at the senselessness
of it all. It was such a pointless waste of human
life. What galled him most was that the driver of the
semi had walked away. All right, so maybe that was a
little uncharitable. After all, it really wasn’t the
driver’s fault that his brakes had blown out.
‘Five seconds more or less, and I wouldn’t even be
here,’ Ryan thought. ‘I’d be home in bed with my
wife, and Colin would be home with his.’ He wrapped
his arms tightly around his body and tried not to
shiver at the thought. Tears pricked his eyes again,
and this time, he didn’t fight them. The shock had
finally worn off, and the grief began to strip away
logic and reason, leaving only anger and pain and
tremendous grief in its wake.
He wept so hard he couldn’t think, sobbing silently
into his fists, his entire body shaking with the loss.
If anyone came into the room, he never heard them.
The only thing he heard was the soft sound of the
heart monitor beeping like a metronome to his grief,
and himself sniffling.
After perhaps half an hour, he had no more tears in
him to give, and the sobs trailed away. His first
weary, ironic thought was: ‘For someone who’s
supposedly not a crying man, you’ve really done a good
job soaking your shirt.’ The top of his T-shirt was
quite wet. His eyes and nose felt swollen and raw,
and he could just bet he was a mess. But he didn’t
care. He felt better for it--calm again, and saner.
The edge that had been with him most of the night was
gone, as was that numbness around his heart.
He stood up slowly and winced as his back popped.
With a sigh, he walked out of the room and went down
to the bathroom for a minute. When he looked into the
mirror, he wasn’t very surprised by what he saw: an
exhausted man with red-rimmed bloodshot eyes and very
pale skin. He splashed cold water onto his face a few
times and dried off with a paper towel. It didn’t
help, but it cooled the overheated skin for a moment.
It was almost five a.m. when he slipped back into the
room. Colin hadn’t stirred, and a new nurse was in
taking down his vitals. She was short and thin with
soft eyes and a kind smile. She greeted Ryan with a
nod as he returned to his chair.
“Do you need anything?” she asked quietly. “The
cafeteria is open if you’re hungry.”
Ryan shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m okay.”
“All right. If you need anything, or if he wakes up,
ring for me down at the station. My name is Jenny.”
“Thanks.”
The nurse--Jennifer, her nametag said--left the room.
Her shoes squeaked on the spotlessly clean floor as
she walked down the hall. The unit seemed to be
stirring a little bit. Here and there, more people
walked by the door. Ryan watched without really
seeing, and after a while, he turned his gaze out the
window. The rain had stopped during the night, and
the first faint streaks of dawn had begun to paint the
skyline.
**
Interlude #1
Greg Proops
Sometime in the future…
I was just talking to Brad and Drew the other day
about the way things have ended up. None of them were
very surprised by what happened after the accident.
Brad actually said he would have been surprised if
things hadn’t gone the way they did. Drew, too. I
guess I wasn’t either, now that I think about it.
After all, it wasn’t like they had a whole lot of
options.
**
4.
Chaos in the Aftermath
As soon as the families arrived a day or so later, all
hell broke loose.
Ryan’s mother and father dragged him away from the
hospital and forced him to spend a day at home. His
mother even refused to let him leave his room until
he’d gotten some sleep. He’d gotten a little sleep at
the hospital, but had spent most of the previous
forty-eight hours watching, ready to do everything he
could for Colin. Being away made it difficult to
sleep--his mind kicked into overdrive and he started
thinking--but he managed a couple hours’ worth and
spent the rest of the time staring up at the ceiling.
After repeatedly assuring everyone that *yes*, he was
fine, he left the house and returned to the hospital.
To his dismay, there were half a dozen people crowded
into Colin’s small room: Colin’s mother and father,
his brother and sister, and their spouses. As he
slipped into the back of the room, Ryan realized that
the six people standing around had ganged up on the
man in the bed.
“Don’t be silly,” Colin’s mother said.
“Of *course*
you’ll be coming to stay with us.”
“Yeah, Colin,” said Colin’s brother. “You
really
should be with Mom and Dad right now.”
Colin’s was tight and tense as he said, “I don’t
want
to.” It sounded like this wasn’t the first time
he’d
said it. “I’m not ten years old anymore. I don’t
need you to hold my hand for me. I’ll be okay in
Toronto.”
“All right, then we’ll come stay with you,” his
mother
said. When Colin opened his mouth to argue again, she
cut him off. “Not another word out of you. That’s
that.”
“No,” Colin said, sounding completely exasperated.
“That is the last thing I want right now.”
“Besides which,” Ryan offered up from his place
against the back wall, “I’ve already offered to take
him in until he’s gotten better.” He smiled slightly
when every head in the room turned to look at him.
Apparently nobody had known he was there. “*And* I’ve
offered to go help him up in Toronto for a while.” At
the dark, blank looks he got, he shrugged. “It’s not
like I have a lot of things going on right now
anyway.”
There was real gratitude in Colin’s voice, despite the
fact that it had all been a lie. “That’s right,”
he
said firmly. “Ryan and I talked about this before,
and that’s what I want to do--what I’m *going* to do.
I won’t be alone.”
“Colin,” his mother started again, “I still think
you
should let us take care of you for a while. We’re
your family, after all.”
“I know you are,” Colin said wearily. “And believe
me, the last thing I want is to hurt any of you. This
is just a difficult time, and…and all of you pushing
me like this isn’t helping. I’m injured, but I’m
still plenty capable of making my own decisions.” He
grimaced and shifted on the bed. “That’s what I’ve
decided. I hope you can understand. I love you all
very much, and I’m so glad that you’re all here, and I
know you want to help, but…but…”
“There’s a time and a place for it,” Ryan finished
softly. “This isn’t it.”
Colin’s mother chuckled a little as she turned to look
at Ryan. “Count on you to finish his sentences.” She
shook her head. “Did it really look like we were
ganging up on him?”
“When I walked in it sure did,” Ryan said.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Colin. “That’s
not very
fair.” Clearing her throat, she glanced quickly
around the room and nudged her husband’s arm. “Well,
I think we’re all going to go and get something to
eat. We’ll be back later.”
“Just two or three of you at a time, okay?” Colin said
with tired good humor. “That many I know I can
handle.”
His family chuckled as they departed. Once the door
closed, however, the mask of composure slipped. He
sagged back on his bed, his eyes alight with pain and
exhaustion. “Thank God,” he whispered, good hand
going to his left side. “I didn’t think I could take
much more of that.”
“Want me to go?” Ryan asked.
“No!” Colin said vehemently. “Where the hell have
you
been?”
Ryan smirked and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Mom sent me to my room.” He started to ask if Colin
needed the nurse, but decided it against it. The last
thing he wanted to do was aggravate his old friend any
further. Colin was quite capable of pushing the
button himself. “She told me I couldn’t come out
until I got some sleep.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah. What about you?”
“More than you, I think. You look like hell, Ryan.”
“You’re not exactly looking your best either,
Col.”
“I have an excuse,” Colin said. “You don’t.
How much
have you slept in the past three days?”
Ryan grimaced and sat back in his chair. “Not that
much,” he admitted softly. “I have a lot on my mind.
I slept a couple of hours today, but I have ten people
at my house, and none of them were really making an
effort to be quiet.” He shrugged and decided to
change the subject. “So, you know when you’re getting
out yet?”
“Five days.” The Canadian managed a smile. “Thank
you, by the way, for rescuing me.”
“No problem.”
“Were you serious about wanting me to stay with you?”
After a couple seconds’ thought, Ryan nodded.
“Absolutely. If you want to, I mean. You’re going to
need some help, and like I said, it’s not like I have
a whole lot to do. I don’t have to work for another
few weeks.”
“Maybe we can help each other through this,” Colin
said, giving voice to the words Ryan couldn’t bring
himself to say.
“Yeah…”
“So…are you okay?”
Since his long weeping spell, Ryan hadn’t cried again.
He’d felt no real need. “I’m better than I
was,” he
said. “With all the families blowing through here, I
haven’t had much of a chance to think about anything,
which is probably why I can’t sleep. What about you?”
Colin glanced out the window with an unhappy sigh. “I
miss my wife,” he said simply. “I miss her so much it
scares me. I’ve caught myself thinking about ways to
kill myself.”
Ryan inhaled sharply. “You haven’t…not
seriously…have
you?”
“Not seriously, no. I guess it’s wishful
thinking.”
Colin shrugged and closed his eyes.
“I think I know what you’re talking about,” Ryan
said
very softly. “You just…you wish you could have gone
with them, instead of being left behind. And part of
you is just…looking for ways to make that wish come
true. You don’t even mean it, necessarily.”
“Exactly,” Colin said thickly. “You don’t, do
you?”
“No. Do you?”
“I…no.”
“It hurts, though. I mean, I woke up this afternoon
and I just started reaching for her, like I always
did. Only she wasn’t there.”
Colin nodded. “I keep thinking Deb’s going to walk
into the room. Every time I hear somebody, I look up
because it could be her, but…but it never is. What
are we going to do?”
“The best we can, I guess. It’s what we always
do.”
After a pause, Ryan added, “I’m always going to be
around if you want to talk.” He chuckled mirthlessly.
“Which is nothing new.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Colin said. “That’s why
I’d want
to live with you if I lived with anybody.”
“The, um, the funerals are going to be Monday and
Tuesday,” Ryan said quietly, once again deciding to
change the subject. “You probably already knew that,
but I guess…I guess I’m going to be speaking at
Pat’s.
Are you going to want to say anything at Deb’s?”
“No. Which one is which day?”
“Deb’s is Monday.”
“Why aren’t they on the same days?”
“I don’t know.” Ryan scowled and shook his head.
“I
tried to tell them that it would be easiest if we did
them together, but nobody wanted to listen to me.
Hell, I’m just the husband, after all. What do I
know?” The bitterness in his voice surprised even
him. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Colin said. “I know
the
feeling, believe me.” He closed his eyes with another
grimace. “Jesus, my ribs hurt.”
“You need the nurse?”
“No. She won’t do anything about it.”
“Oh.” Ryan sat back in the chair and glanced out into
the hallway. It was quiet out there. People passed
by every now and again, but none were speaking. The
mood, both in the room and out, was gloomy. ‘Or maybe
that’s just me,’ he thought tiredly. He felt
strangely lonely all of a sudden. Any time he’d felt
down, Pat would always be there to cheer him up. And
now…
Cutting that thought off before it could start
festering, Ryan looked over to Colin, whose eyelids
had closed. Almost as if he could feel Ryan’s eyes on
him, Colin said, “I’m not sleeping. I’m just
thinking.”
“You think too much,” Ryan said. It was an old joke,
and pretty weak, but one that usually got a smile out
of both of them.
This time the effort fell flat. “I know,” Colin
sighed. “Can’t help it. If you figure out a way to
turn off my brain short of killing me, let me know.”
Taking a deep breath, he said, “No, check that. If
you want to kill me, go ahead. Right now, I really
could not care less.”
“If you don’t stop talking like that, I *will* kill
you,” Ryan said sharply. He didn’t like the
listlessness in Colin’s voice. With more confidence
than he actually felt, he added, “We’re going to get
through this. I don’t know how, but we will. Okay?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Colin mumbled crossly. “Why
don’t
you take a hike, all right? I think I’m going to try
to get some sleep. You should do the same.”
Ryan stood up and glanced at his watch. He’d been
there for maybe half an hour. “Do you want me to come
back, or do you just want me to leave you alone?”
Colin’s tone was flat, bored. “Do whatever you
want.”
What the hell just happened here? In less than five
minutes, they had gone from best friends to strangers.
Probably had something to do with Colin’s ribs aching
to distraction, Ryan figured. He suppressed the urge
to make a comment, and instead said only, “I’ll see
you later.” It didn’t bother him much when Colin said
nothing.
On his way to the front doors, he ran into Greg, who
was just on his way in. “Oh, hey, Greg,” he said
tiredly. “Colin’s sleeping, so I wouldn’t bother
him
if I were you. He just kicked me out.”
Greg nodded and immediately turned around. “That’s
fine,” he said, unusually subdued. “I was looking for
you, anyway. Your mom said you’d come down here.”
The two men emerged outside. The sun beat down
mercilessly from a cloudless sky, making everything
way too bright to Ryan’s eyes. He squinted and paused
just outside the front doors, pulling out his
sunglasses and settling the into place. “What did you
want?”
“You want to go get some coffee?” Greg asked quietly,
pushing his own glasses up on the bridge of his nose
with one hand. He was dressed about as plainly as
Ryan had ever seen him-- gray T-shirt and blue jeans
with battered tennis shoes. He looked comfortable.
Ryan shrugged and forced a smile. “Sure.”
Just down the street from the hospital, there was a
small coffee shop. The two men walked there in
silence, accompanied only the echo of their footfalls
on the strangely empty street. The coffee shop, they
found, wasn’t totally deserted, but it was quiet and
dim. All of the overhead lights had been turned off,
giving the place an almost bar-like atmosphere.
After ordering their coffee, the two men gravitated to
a booth in the back. “So, um, what did you want to
talk about?” Ryan prompted when Greg didn’t
immediately begin speaking.
“It’s not really important,” Greg answered slowly.
“I’m sure you’ve heard this a million times in the
past week, but I just wanted to ask if there was
anything you or Colin needed.” He smiled humorlessly
and added, “Besides space.”
“No, that’s basically what we need,” Ryan said. He
sipped his coffee. It was hot and strong, and it
tasted like it was at least a week old. Still, it
was better than nothing. “Well, what I need, anyway.
You know, there’s nothing wrong with my head, but
everybody seems to think I can’t be trusted to make my
own decisions.” He sighed and made patterns in a
puddle of water on the tabletop with his fingertip.
“I thought it’d be a better idea to have the funerals
on the same day. Did anybody listen? Hell no.”
Greg frowned and folded his hands on the table.
“That’s not going to be very convenient for Colin, is
it?”
“Of course not. That was the whole reason behind
having them on the same day.” Ryan chuckled
humorlessly. “But then again, what do I know?”
“You’ve talked to the families?”
“I’ve tried talking to just about everybody.
They’ve
been patting me on the back and treating me like I’ve
suffered a head injury or something. ‘It’s all being
taken care of, Ryan. Don’t worry about it.’” He
scrubbed his eyes with his hands and then dropped them
back down onto the table. “I hate this.”
“You look like hell,” Greg said bluntly. “When was
the last time-?”
“This afternoon,” Ryan interrupted harshly. “Two
hours. Six hours all told in the last three days.
And yes, I know I do. You’re the fifteenth person
who’s told me that today.” He was so tired of people
saying that.
Greg sighed and picked up his coffee cup. “I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean-”
Ryan waved the apology aside and softened his tone.
“No, don’t worry about it. You’re right,
but…you
know, every time I take a break from running around, I
actually start thinking. Makes it damn tough to
sleep. And when I do sleep, I have bad dreams. This
is…it’s…it’s not sitting right.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Greg said. “I
wouldn’t expect
it to. I’m amazed you’re handling everything as well
as you have been. No offense or anything, but I’m
surprised you haven’t gone completely nuts. You’re
taking it a hell of a lot better than I ever would.”
“Well, it’s mostly…I’m putting on the best
face I
can,” Ryan confessed quietly. “I’m not doing that
well, but I…I do my grieving in private, you know?”
Greg smiled and took a sip of his coffee. Setting it
down on the table, he grimaced. “Jesus, that’s awful.
Think they’ve changed the grounds this decade?”
“Probably not.”
Abandoning his attempt at levity, Greg became serious
as he leaned forward on the table. “Look, you’re
talking to somebody who knows already, Ryan. You’re
the most closed person I’ve ever met, and I know why.
I’m the same way.” He cleared his throat and sat back
a little. “But I’ll make you the same offer I’m
sure
everybody has made you already: you want to talk, I’m
here.”
Ryan shrugged and drew circles on the tabletop.
“You’re right there. But…yeah, if…if things
get out
of hand, or whatever, I’ll find you.” It was
difficult to know whether those were just words or if
he really meant them. After a moment’s thought, he
decided he meant it. He’d always felt comfortable
around Greg; more comfortable than with anyone but his
wife, Drew, and Colin, in fact.
“You’re not just saying that, are you?” Greg asked
intently.
“No,” Ryan answered firmly. He hesitated, sighed, and
then said, “Matter of fact, if you’ve got a few
minutes…”
“My couch is always open for business.”
“Good.” Unsure about what he was going to say, Ryan
opened his mouth to speak. Words tumbled out in
uneven bursts over the next little while. Greg
listened quietly, offering comments sporadically, but
mainly he listened. Ryan talked about a little bit of
everything, not staying on any topic very long. It
did help, he decided as the flow of words began to dry
up. Greg was part of the situation, but removed
enough so that he could point out things Ryan had
missed. It helped clear out some of the old cobwebs.
Ryan went home that night and slept the sleep of the
dead for twelve hours. If there were dreams, he
didn’t remember any of them.