Changes - 1. Chapter 1

Changes

Chapter 1

The Basalt River appears bottomless as it meanders slowly through the hospital grounds—The Johnson Institute for Spinal Cord Injuries—and in some places, its navy blue water becomes inky black as it deepens.

There was a time I joined in bake sales to help the Institute raise money. Donny did the fun runs for the same reason. I don’t believe either of us thought we’d end up here in some official capacity or other.

The air was warm and I basked in the heat from the sun. Beneath me, the stone was cool. It matched the cold fear I felt in my bones. The dread grew like a tumor each day as I waited to find out if my husband would ever be himself again.

We’d been together for ten years, and married for four of those. My beautiful husband was a sports nut, even making a living writing about it. Don liked to watch, but preferred to participate. He ran marathons, did Ironman, and he never wanted to be last or left out. How would he cope with having his wings clipped?

How was I going to cope? Don had always been the strong one.

I mulled these thoughts over as I sat on a quartz-flecked flat slab down near the river. The rock was large enough to hold my 5’11” frame completely.

I checked my phone relentlessly, hoping for texts from Don’s mother. She sat with her son with dogged determination. However, I couldn’t just sit there in his room, staring at his broken body, the swollen face, and the hole they cut into his skull to relieve pressure. Listening to the ear-ringing beep, beep, beep, of the machines relentlessly telling me my man was only alive because of them.

Don’t get me wrong. I did sit there. I talked to him, told him I loved him. I wept silently beside him. I mourned what I thought I might lose, and I could not stop thinking that never again would we make love. There would be no more sex, not ever.

He had been such a vibrant, alive person. Had been. Don had such spirit, such joie de vivre, would he be different now? You never knew did you after such an accident, if the victim would be forever changed. There was the other possibility too, that he’d die or that maybe he would just not want to live.

No, because you aren’t ready yet, are you? What if Don is?

What if he was? I didn’t want to think about that. Not until I had to. No, all I could think about was not having sex anymore, for the rest of my life. Why? For what? I thought about the reasons why. It was two years ago Donny changed our lives ….

***

Don lay behind me, his legs and arms wrapped around me. He was deep, hard and pulled me even closer, holding me in a steely grip that was almost painful while he came. I closed my eyes as I came too. I relished his sweat, each moan of pleasure, and the pain where he nipped my neck as l orgasmed. I’d had eight years of this, of him, and it never felt old, it was never dull. We loved each other without reservation, without fear of telling the other what we wanted.

Because of that love and trust, we’d had others share our bed. We dated outside our relationship before we actually married, but as fun as it was, we always just wanted each other. For the past five years, it had been just been us. We were happy.

Donny had always liked sports and danger, so I wasn’t particularly surprised when he said he wanted to race motorcycles. He’d always had one.

That morning, as he softened inside me and smooched my neck and ears, trying to get me revved up for round two, he said, “Lous, I wanna try something new.”

I pressed myself against his lean, hot body, reaching behind and caressing his muscular ass, wanting him again. “Mmm baby, like what? A foursome while parachuting?”

He giggled at that. Then with his lips on my shoulder he said, “No, I want to race bikes.”

I guess I’d stiffened a bit at that because he said softly into my neck, “There’s nothing to worry about. It’s safe as houses.”

I didn’t believe that—not for a minute.

Saying no wouldn’t have stopped him. Donny has a strong personality and I couldn’t fight it, and frankly didn’t want to. I told him I was worried, but he assuaged my fears by saying he would be taking instruction, and they taught accident avoidance and other safety precautions.

But he’d still be out there on a speeding two-wheeled-bullet, wouldn’t he?

***

Placing my phone carefully on the rock next to me, I flipped onto my belly and lay there watching the water slip by me. It seemed then the river was a physical representation of time; it drifted by slowly, in a seemingly endless stream. At that moment, I wanted to be an otter, and let myself slip into the river and glide through it. I’d be one with the water, graceful and safe.

I dozed off there, my head resting on my forearms, the heat of the sun, and the glint off the water forcing my eyes closed. I dozed half-asleep and dreamed of Donny’s last race. It was his second Superbike race; he’d come in ninth in his first, he was determined to make top three for his second.

Superbike scared me. The machines were bigger and faster than the previous class he’d been in. Don was not happy staying at that level and my fear wasn’t going to keep him there.

You’re likely thinking Don’s a pretty selfish guy. I suppose he can seem that way, but I always knew he was a danger junkie. From our first date—a motorcycle jaunt to a local swimming hole—I knew, so I went into our relationship with open eyes. I also knew he was in charge; he was the alpha to my beta, and that I desired and accepted.

Up until then I never worried, and always believed Don would be safe and okay. I guess the luck ran out.

The racetrack that day was noisy and oily. The fumes gave me a headache. I felt irritated and wanted to be anywhere but there, but Don had asked me to go and I didn’t feel like I could say no. In the pit area, I sat watching him and Jed, the crew chief, doing last minute adjustments to the bike. I was such a fish out of water there.

Don didn’t care. I was his husband and he was not afraid to show this in front of others as he often ran up to talk to or kiss me. Finally, Don went to change into his leathers leaving me with a black feeling of doom which I dared not to voice to Jed.

***

I lay there on my rock beside the river, wondering if I’d gotten up and gone with him, and told him how I felt— maybe how that day was not a good day to get on a killing machine—that maybe he’d have listened. In my heart-of-hearts though, I know he wouldn’t have.

No, instead, he would do what he did. Hold me in his strong arms, kiss me until I was breathless, and tell me he loved me forevermore. I smiled and acted bravely, cheering him on, but I’d be scared until the damn race was over.

It happened in the fifth lap. They don’t really know what caused the accident; can’t tell me the whys, only that it was an act of God.

Do we blame God for everything bad that we make happen?

I see it every day in my head; it was just after a right turn. The bike leaning, and Don’s right knee so close to the track. It was too close, wasn’t it? The physics were instantly wrong, so that massive machine slid out from under him, and Don becoming a ragdoll as he flipped repeatedly, bouncing off a guardrail and hay bales. Within seconds, an ambulance screamed its way over the park-like grass in the centre of the track.

I wanted to go. I needed to go. I couldn’t. I was held in place; Jed’s hands clamped on both my biceps as I tried to climb the barrier, his grip like Don’s.

He had grabbed my face and turned it toward his. It was loud, so we all wore ear protectors, and I remember the shape of Jed’s mouth as he yelled at me: NO, NO, NO! He pulled me inside the small, crew’s lounge. I fought him because this room was not where I was supposed to be. He yanked off our protectors and said, “No, Louis. We can’t help him. Let the paramedics sort him out.”

“He’s my fucking husband!” I didn’t try to stop my tears.

Jed pulled me close and held me in arms that felt so like Don’s, and he whispered, “I know. I know.”

All I could do then was grab fistfuls of his overalls and sob.

***

The final part of the memory was how Jed drove me to the hospital. Terror was in my fingers during that ride and I dug them into my thighs and the padded door handle.

Don was in surgery by the time Jed led me to Emergency, where he remained for several hours. I called his mother Rena, who lived in Calgary. I felt I needed a plunger to push down my feelings as I told her what had happened to her son. I knew she was crying as she said she would be here as soon as she could.

That was nearly three weeks ago. Don has not woken up, he has not moved, he has not smiled or cried, or said: Baby, I love you.

Not for three weeks.

I thought I had no more tears, but here on my rock, with time passing me by, I sobbed anew.

My ‘you’ve got a text’ ringtone roused me from my self-pity and daydreams. I picked up my phone, rolled onto my back and opened it:

He’s awake

I let out a yelp loud enough that birds flew from branches of the surrounding trees. I scrambled to my feet and ran full-tilt into the hospital.

Rena was outside Donny’s room when I got there. She hugged me and said, “He’s awake, but he seems confused. I guess that’s to be expected, isn’t it? Dr. Robinson is in there with him right now. We’re supposed to wait outside.”

I nodded and fretted. I paced.

Finally, the doctor joined us; he shook my hand and said kindly, “I’d like to talk to you both. Could you follow me, please?”

We settled in the small, windowless private room. The doctor spoke first. “Don is awake, but he’s disoriented. He doesn’t recall the accident. I haven’t told him yet about the full extent of his injuries, but it will have to be done soon. Right now the nurses are helping Don be more comfortable and then you can go in.”

“What should we say to him if he asks why he can’t feel anything?” Rena asked.

“Just tell him there was an accident and we’ll know better in a few days the full extent of his injuries.” The doctor examined his hands for a moment and then continued, “We don’t know truly what will happen yet. There is a good chance he won’t walk again, but there are a lot of factors in play and we need to give Don time to heal a bit before we can make any solid pronouncements.”

I didn’t like this. I’d never lied to Don and it frustrated me. They knew he’d likely never walk again; I said as much.

“It’s not a lie, Louis,” Rena said.

“How isn’t it if he asks me and I’m not supposed to tell him?”

She glared at me. “Just do as the doctor said, please. It’s just until he’s strong enough to deal with the news.”

I could tell she was near breaking, and wasn’t interested in my shit right at that moment. I got off my high horse, because I could be a bit short with people, including Don. “Okay. I’ll go along with it.”

Rena started to cry.

God, what was I doing? “Rena, I’m sorry. I’ll do what’s best for him, you know that.”

“Oh, Louis, I’m so frightened.”

The doctor left the room quietly, leaving us to mourn our broken husband and son.

I put my arms around Don’s mum. “He’s strong. You know that. We’ll do all we can to help, right? You and me together.”

She nodded into my shoulder. I rocked with her, holding back tears of my own.

We collected ourselves, wiped our eyes, and I offered Rena my arm. She slipped hers through mine and leaned against me slightly. I think we both needed the physical connection. We walked back to Don’s room in the I.C.U.

We went in together, then separated and took up places on either side of Donny. He’d gone back to sleep, so we sat and waited.

The wait seemed endless, so Rena eventually said, “I think I’ll head to the coffee shop. I have e-mails and calls that I need to answer for work and I’m sure some other correspondence to look after. You’ll text me if he wakes up, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

***

“Lous?”

I was sitting in my chair, arms crossed, legs out in front of me dozing, when his voice roused me. I glanced up and saw his bright amber eyes, seeking mine. I got to my feet and looked down at him. “I’m here, baby.”

He swallowed and squeezed my hand. I bent to kiss the lips I knew so well.

“Drink?” he croaked.

“Only ice chips right now. I’ll get some for you.”

“No, please. Don’t leave me.”

He clung to my hand. I decided to ring for the nurse. “Okay, babe. I’ll stay right here.”

The nurse popped her head in, and then noticed Don was awake. “I’ll just record your vitals. How are you feeling?”

“He says he’s thirsty. While you’re here, I’ll get him some ice.”

“Yes, ice for right now. I’ll let Dr. Robinson know he’s awake once you’re back.”

Donny relinquished my hand and I slipped out of the room. As I went to the ice machine, I thought about texting Rena. For selfish reasons I chose not to. I wanted Don to myself for a little while, and who knew how long he’d be awake.

The nurse was just finishing when I returned. She smiled and said all was well but not to tire him too much. I nodded and she left quietly.

I gave Don a few ice chips, and he smiled. I wanted to help but there was nothing to do but hold his hand.

He swallowed and said, “Sit, baby.”

I did.

“Lous.” He squeezed my fingers. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Please tell me what happened. I don’t remember it. I remember thinking, oh shit as the bike slid, but that’s all.”

“Donny, right now it doesn’t matter. You just need to concentrate on getting better.”

“Look, I need to—”

“No! No, you don’t need to right now. You need to be quiet and calm right now.” I felt tense and frustrated.

He just gazed at me then, and slowly tears fell from those beautiful eyes.

“Oh, Donny, please don’t do that.” I grabbed a tissue and made to dab the tears away, but he took the tissue and did it himself.

“Louis, tell me how bad.”

“They don’t know yet.”

“You are such a fucking bad liar. So I guess since you aren’t telling me, then it’s bad, huh? Like I can’t ride anymore or run or some shit.”

His blood pressure machine beeps increased.

“Donny, please calm down.”

“Tell me. Please don’t lie or avoid me.”

I sighed. “Baby, the doctor wants to be here so he can answer your questions.”

“Fuck!” He struggled, trying to sit up.

“Stop it, Don. That’s enough for Christ’s sake!” I raised my voice slightly and he stopped and stared at me. “You’re acting like a kid. Just bloody listen and do as your fucking told for five minutes!”

“Lous …. ”

“Don’t Lous me. You always do that.” I took a deep breath and let it go slowly.

He grimaced as he relaxed against the bed and pillow. “I’m sorry.”

“No! None of that either. You say you don’t want lies. Well, I’ll tell you this. Your—our lives—from now on are going to be the biggest challenge we’ve had. So don’t you dare get all soft and miserable. There will be no room for self-pity or whining.”

Don took a deep breath and regarded me with a serious expression. “It’s worse isn’t it, Lous. Like I’ll never walk again kinda worse, isn’t it?”

I could only nod.

******************