Escaping the Pain - 6. Chapter 6

“He was hurt so bad, Mom. He was lying there so still and there was blood everywhere, so much blood.” Tap's dad stood on the other side of the gurney and put his hand silently on his son's shoulder. He squeezed, not saying a word, just lending his strength and comfort to Tap.

“Shh, baby, shh. It will be okay,” Keri voice was soft as she gave into the relief she felt knowing Tap was alright. She was crying too, her youngest son's obvious pain and fear for his friend tearing at her heart. No mother liked to see their child suffer; it was against their very nature. In this case there was nothing she could do other than hug him and be there for him.

“I don't know what's going on, what happened,” Tap was confused, he didn't know why Dane had been in that car alone, or driving. He knew that Dane didn't drive and he promised he would call Tap if anything happened. He didn't know where Tap lived so he couldn't have been on his way to his house so why was he more than 30 minutes from his own? Tap could only sit and wait, the unanswered questions tearing at his mind while he waited for any news on Dane.

A nurse bustled over and set a tray down on the edge of the bed Tap sat on. It held antiseptic and bandages, tweezers and cotton balls. “Patrick Leeran?” Tap nodded. “It looks like you did a real number on your feet,” Tap nodded numbly, not even sparing them a glance.

“Do you know how Dane Kendricks is? Is he okay? Is he…” Tap couldn’t finish that thought, shuddered from even thinking that Dane might die.

She smiled gently, “I know you are really worried about your friend but there’s no news yet. We’re not supposed to release information to anyone but family but we’ve been unable to contact his father. Do you have any idea of where he might be?” Tap looked disappointed and upset there was no news on Dane's condition yet but his face tightened and he looked angry as he shook his head.

“No, Dane and his dad didn’t get along. I… I’ve never even been to Dane’s house; I just met him about a week ago. He’s new to school, they just moved here a few months ago. But he’s my best friend; he’s only got me here for him, please, please let me know if you find out how he's doing. I’m so worried about him.” Tap looked distraught.

“There was so much blood,” he whispered.

The nurse looked sympathetic, "I'll tell the doctor you asked, okay? But I can't promise anything."

Tap’s dad rubbed his back, “It’ll be okay son, they’ll take good care of him.” He looked at his wife over Tap’s head. She barely changed her expression but he nodded where Tap couldn’t see him. They knew their youngest son and as outgoing as he was you often had to listen to what he didn’t say as much as what he did. There was something seriously bothering him about his friend’s dad and they needed to try and find out what it was.

Tap hissed a little and tried not to flinch as the nurse cleaned a deep cut on the ball of his left foot. The antiseptic was cold and stung. He had a lot of dirt and bits of bark and other debris all through the soles of both. Chad, one of the paramedics, had seen his feet while they waited for the firefighters to get Dane out of the car. They had to force him to go sit in the ambulance to wait to ride along with them to the hospital. Tap had wanted to stay by Dane’s side, afraid he would stop breathing if he took his eyes off him for a second. Deputy Peters said he would take Tap’s car to the station until Tap’s parents could bring him by to pick it up when he was released from the hospital.

The whole ride to the hospital Chad had worked on Dane while his partner drove, starting an iv and putting pressure bandages on the worst lacerations. He had been checking him over for more injuries when Tap blurted out, “Watch out for his shoulders, they’re sore.” He had no idea why he'd felt the need to say that, the beating his Dad had given him was probably the least of his pains.

Chad had looked at him funny and then looked down at Dane’s unconscious body, with the cuts and broken arm, his breathing labored under the oxygen mask. Tap had blushed, he realized how silly that comment was but it just came out. Once they got to the hospital there was a flurry of activity as Dane was rushed off on his gurney and Tap had followed slowly, his feet bleeding onto the linoleum as he stared off down the hall where they had taken his friend.

A nurse whose name tag had said Mary Taylor had forced him to sit on the gurney when she noticed him and the red marks where he had shifted his weight trying to prevent himself from following down that hall. They had called his parents and told him they would get to him as soon as possible. It had taken more than hour before his parents had rushed through the door and then another nurse; this one’s name tag said Cherie Lyle, had come up and started cleaning his feet. He knew that he had to wait for news but Tap was barely able to hold still.

A doctor came out from the long hall that Tap’s entire body and mind was focused on and stopped at the nurse’s station. He spoke briefly to the nurse there and then turned, looking straight at Tap. Tap started to shiver when he walked toward them, his slight quiver making his strong 6’5” body shake. When the doctor stopped in front of them Tap gulped.

“I'm Dr. Wickels,” the doctor introduced himself then asked, "are you Patrick?”

“Yes. But everyone calls me Tap,” Tap said. Taking a deep breath he asked the only question on his mind, barely able to whisper in his distress. “please, is Dane okay?”

“Well, Tap, normally we only discuss patient condition with family,” the doctor said, making Tap close his eyes in despair, “but the police said you were on the scene and we need some information. Since we couldn’t reach his father you are our best hope for that,” Dr. Wickels looked at Tap with a very serious expression.

He continued, “Daniel was unconscious when he was brought in. He had a lot of bruises and cuts that needed stitches to repair them. His left humerus was broken in two places and his right tibia and fibula as well. Right now we can't take him into surgery so we'll fix them a little bit later. He has some bruising on his lungs but we are most concerned about the head wound he sustained. We’ve put him on some medicine to help but if he hadn’t been brought in when he was it would be much worse,"

Tap slumped on his gurney, leaning back into his dad’s arms that wrapped around him in his relief. Tears were streaming down his face and his mom brushed them away, caressing his cheek.

"But right now Daniel has not regained consciousness and isn't reacting to stimulus. That could be from the trauma and the head wound but it could be due to other things," Dr. Wickels took a deep breath, "please don't be upset, I’m not accusing your friend of anything and I'd normally just wait for the blood work but we might not have time. We need to know if you think he had been drinking or doing any drugs tonight,”

Tap sat up straight, pulling out of his dad’s arms. “No, not Dane! No way!” Tap protested. “He’s not like that at all. I don’t know why… He was supposed to call me if he had a problem tonight. I don’t know why he didn’t, he promised. He told me can’t drive, his dad never taught him and his mom was too sick,” Tap was just as confused as everyone else about why Dane had been in that car.

Just then a new nurse came up to the gurney, “Mr. and Mrs. Leeran? Could one of you come with me please, we need to have some paperwork filled out for your son,”

Patrick and Keri looked at each other over Tap’s head and Patrick nodded. Keri kissed Tap on the cheek and walked away with the nurse. Patrick stayed by Tap, keeping his hand on his shoulder, squeezing occasionally, trying to quiet the tremble he could still feel in his son’s back. The doctor was looking at Tap, his expression professional but his eyes showed his sympathy and understanding. He took a deep breath, he had to ask this next question but it was so sensitive.

“Tap, there’s one more question I have for you. Daniel’s wounds are bad but… his back.” Dr. Wickels prayed that he was wrong though he knew he wasn’t.

Tap blanched, his mind working frantically. Would Dane want him to tell? Should he? What could he say, what was the right thing to do? Should he lie? Tap shook his head at his inner questions; he didn’t lie. Dane had promised he would tell, first thing this morning and something happened before he could. That was the first time that the idea that this might be something more than an accident flashed into his mind. What if his dad had done something else causing Dane to take off? Oh no, they had called his dad, what if he came in here while Dane was helpless? Tap had to tell.

The doctor and Tap’s dad had watched his inner turmoil flow across his face, his indecision and his fear followed by his sudden conviction. Tap sat up straighter and squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath, “Sir, Dane’s dad did that. He beats him.” The doctor’s face tightened and his eyes closed as he took a deep breath in through his nose. Patrick looked shocked.

“Son, that’s a serious accusation to make,” the doctor said gravely as he opened his eyes and looked at Tap.

“I know, sir. But Dane got a burn on his chin last week and made a lame excuse about slipping while cooking, then yesterday I touched his shoulders at lunch and he cried out. I took him somewhere we could talk and made him tell me. He showed me the bruises sir, on his ribs and his back and shoulders. He told me his dad beat him with a rubber hose and kicked him because he broke the rules on Friday,” Tap blurted out everything he knew. “I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone.” Tap was in tears, feeling really bad for breaking his promise.

“Tap, why didn’t you tell us earlier? This is an extremely serious issue; we’ve always taught you that it’s better to do the right thing than keep your word sometimes.” Patrick was disappointed in Tap.

Tap squirmed on the narrow bed he was sitting on. He felt bad that he hadn't insisted but he tried to explain.

“He promised me that he would do it himself Dad. He needs to get good grades to get a scholarship so he can go to college, he wouldn’t skip his classes. He insisted I go to practice but didn’t want to go on his own so he said I could pick him up in the morning and he would go with me to the police. He was afraid if he didn’t go home his dad would find him and beat him again or report him as a runaway. He thought if that happened that no one would believe that his dad beat him and he would just be sent back to that hell of a house.”

“Still, son, for him to go back to a house he was in danger in,” Tap’s dad was shaking his head.

“I got him a cell phone Dad; I bought it at the store. I made him swear to call me if he had any trouble. I couldn’t change his mind and I couldn’t force him. I did my best to make sure he was safe. He’s my friend and I wanted to help him, not hurt him.” Tap broke down sobbing, wishing he had done more, knowing that it was his fault that Dane was lying in a bed somewhere hurt. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t do more.”

“Shh, Tap, no, son, I’m sorry. I understand you did the best you could. You did good, you did good.” Patrick rubbed his back and hugged Tap while he buried his face in his dad’s chest and sobbed out his fear and sadness.

Dr. Wickels also reassured him, “What you did most likely saved that young man’s life. There isn’t much we can do for his type of head injury but with everything that happened to him if he hadn’t been found he most likely would have died overnight from a combination of his injuries and exposure. Observatory road where he was found isn’t often traveled, he was very very lucky to be able to make that call and that you got him help so fast.”

Tap shuddered, trying to swallow the rest of his tears. His shoulders were still bowed but he managed to slowly regain control. He wiped the tears from his cheeks. “Please, Dr. Wickels, can I see him? Please?”

Dr. Wickels considered saying no but it was the sight of 2 deputy sheriffs walking into the Emergency Room that made up his mind in the other direction. He needed to speak to them and it was better if Tap didn’t overhear. “Okay, but just for a few minutes, it’s really against hospital policy.”

Tap tried to slide down to stand on his now bandaged feet.

“Whoa there, young man!” the doctor stopped him with an arm on his shoulder. “You can’t walk on those feet right now. Bandages or not you need to let them rest and you can pick up all sorts of nasty infections from walking on this floor, even with the open wounds covered. In fact I’m going to prescribe you a course of antibiotics to take for the next 10 days, just in case. Meanwhile, hold on and I will get a nurse with a wheelchair, okay?”

Tap practically vibrated with impatience at even a slight delay but nodded, agreeing so that he could get to Dane. He didn’t care what he had to do; he had to see him and make sure he was still breathing for himself. “Sure thing, doc.” Dr. Wickels chuckled at his eager tone, only a teenager could have such a sudden change in mood.

“Cheri, could you come over here please? Bring a wheelchair that might fit this young man, we have to have at least one.” Dr. Wickels smiled at Tap before he walked away, heading toward the 2 sheriff’s deputies who were speaking to a nurse near the intake desk.

Tap felt reassured, surely if the doctor didn’t believe him or something was seriously wrong he wouldn’t be making jokes. As soon as the nurse appeared he scooted off the bed into the wheelchair almost before Cherie could lock the wheels. He had always been focused at least in part on that hallway Dane had disappeared down and tried to push on the wheels to shoot down that hall but the nurse held on to the handles and stopped him.

“Hey, slow down, Big Guy! That’s my job,” the young nurse laughed, “besides; you don’t know where you're going. Why don’t you just put those dinner plates back in your lap and let me do the work, okay?”

Tap blushed at the reference to his large hands and folded them together. He was bouncing in the seat a bit, like a little boy, desperate to get to Dane now that he finally had permission. He was nervously smiling, rubbing his thighs when the nurse got into the back urgent care area with its large open bay and trauma set up. He didn’t see the many machines that stood around the room, the portable x-ray, the crash cart, the ultrasound machine. What he did see was the panel of monitors above Dane’s bed that had many different colored lines and numbers on them. He didn’t understand what those were all for but he recognized the heart monitor and the steady beeping rhythm he could hear reassured him almost as much as that first sight of Dane lying in the bed so pale and still scared him.

At first he just saw Dane breathing slowly and his overwhelming relief protected him for a few second, but then he gasped. His eyes saw all the wires and tubes and then the bruises, cuts, and finally the paper white color of Dane’s normally buff colored skin. He looked like a ghost lying there on the bed, thin and insubstantial. “Oh, Dane, oh gods.” Tap tried to stand up but Cheri stopped him with hands on his shoulders.

“You can’t stand up.” She wheeled his chair next to Dane’s bed and lowered the rail on that side. “Touch him if you want and talk to him. We don’t know for sure if patients who are unconscious or in a coma really hear the people who visit them but it can’t hurt. It might help you too.” She backed away, leaving the room and giving the two young men some space.

Tap gently touched Dane’s hand, putting his hand under it where it lay lax on the bed. He barely held the fingers with just the tip of his hand, afraid of dislodging the iv or hurting him, “Dane, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I don’t know what happened but if only I had been there, or didn’t let you go home.”

Tap was openly crying again, “Dane, please, you have to wake up, you have to get better. I need you; you have to come back to me. Please come back, please.” Tap put his head on the bed next to the hand he held so gently and cried, wetting the sheets with his hot guilty tears.

After a few minutes he raised his head and gulped back the tears, wiping his face with his bloody shirt. He closed his eyes, “I told them Dane, the doctor and Dad, about what your dad did to you, what you told me. I know I promised I wouldn’t but I didn’t have a choice, they asked about your back. I was afraid of what your dad might do to you if he came near you while you are like this, lost and alone in this bed... I don’t know what happened, if he somehow did this or made you do it but I promised I would protect you. I’m sorry if you are mad that I told but I’m doing the best I can. I just want you to be safe and happy, no matter what.”

Tap could hear footsteps coming toward him, more than one and several of them heavy as if the owners of those ominous treads were wearing boots. Tap leaned forward quickly and pressed a soft kiss to Dane’s limp hand. “Just please come back to me, okay? Even if you’re mad and don’t want to see me anymore, just come back.”