Hugh's Pain - 4. Chapter 4

Just looking down at Jonathan, Hugh didn’t see much change. It wasn’t until he took his place on the chair next to the bed and slipped his hand under Jonathan’s that he could tell Jonathon was no longer comatose.

He felt a small flinch in the hand he gently held and the beeps coming from the monitor sped as Jonathan’s heart rate grew faster.

“It’s okay,” Hugh whispered. You’re safe here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Hugh caressed the skin of Jonathan’s arm and rubbed slow circles on the back of his hand while murmuring quiet words of comfort, until the sounds of Jonathan’s heart beat slowed. There was no movement in Jonathan’s face but Hugh took comfort in the fact that he seemed to relax.

Jonathan looked as though he’d gone back to sleep so Hugh turned his head away to find his brother.

“I thought he wouldn’t wake up today,” he said as Pat leaned against the far wall. “You said he needed to heal more before letting up on his medication.”

Pat nodded. “I did.”

“Then why?”

Pat shrugged. “I was looking over Beth’s notes and realized that this boy is a lot stronger than he looks.” He walked over to the opposite side of the bed and stared down at Jonathan. “Even in a drug induced sleep, his body looked like it was fighting to wake. So, I thought I’d give the choice to the patient.” Pat looked up from Jonathan to Hugh. “The drugs aren’t all out of his system, so I don’t expect him to be very alert. And he’ll probably go in and out. Then, there’s his pain level. I don’t want him fighting pain, so I’m not going to be stingy with those meds―at least not for a few days. After that, we’ll see how he’s coping.”

Hugh felt pressure on his hand and looked at Jonathan’s face, stifling a groan when he saw one eye opened halfway above a bruised cheek. He watched as the single eyelid closed then opened once again. Because of the swelling in Jonathan’s face, his other eye stayed shut. Hugh was grateful to whatever good source that was out in the world that Jonathan could even open one eye, even if it was glazed and only cracked halfway.

When Jonathan opened his mouth, Hugh put a finger over his lips.

“Shh, don’t try to talk right now.” He looked up at Pat. “Ice chips?”

Pat nodded and went to the small cooler. He returned with a cup filled with crushed ice and a spoon. “Only small bits at a time.”

Hugh took the cup and reluctantly let go of Jonathan’s hand. Half teaspoons at a time, he fed the ice, letting it rest a little on the swollen, cracked lips before slipping in to Jonathan’s dry mouth. After a while, Hugh felt the gaze of that one half cracked eye as it labored to study his face. He saw the question behind the murky green and sighed.

“I found you on the roadside.”

Hugh could plainly see the pain as it etched its way across the battered face when Jonathan gave a small nod. After setting the ice aside and taking Jonathan’s hand again, he rested his palm gently against Jonathan’s cheek and brushed his thumb beneath the eye that closed, releasing a single tear.

“Shh, it’s okay. Sleep now. Let your body heal. You’re safe here. You’re safe.”

He continued his whispered words of comfort and encouragement until he felt Jonathan’s hand go lax.

Pat came to stand behind Hugh and squeezed his shoulder.

“You’ve got the bedside gift, brother. I think he’ll sleep a while now.”

Hugh looked down at his sleeping nephew. Once Jonathan had drifted to sleep, he’d remained in that state. Pat had been confident that this sleep was more healing than the drug induced one as his body wasn’t fighting it, so Hugh returned to the little hurricane named Toby. The day had been mild so they’d spent most of it outside and by the time they’d sat at dinner, the storm had transformed to a still pond. Toby had almost fallen asleep in his spaghetti.

As Hugh watched the little boy slumber, small glimpses of his past surfaced in his memory. Times when he and Jason at four and five years of age had played hard and fallen asleep curled around each other on the playroom floor. Times when they were in middle school and had pitched a tent out in the back yard or slept in the open, under the starlit sky. They’d been almost inseparable, Jason and him against the imaginary unseen enemy.

But then, the enemy hadn’t been imaginary after all.

Hugh reached down and brushed the hair back from Toby’s forehead before kneeling and planting a kiss where the hair had been.

“Sleep tight, Toby,” he whispered.

At the end of the hall, Hugh contemplated going into the family room where he knew Pat and Jessica would be resting. The thought of relaxing in front of the open fireplace and visiting with his brother and sister-in-law gave him a warm feeling, but the draw to go back to Jonathan was stronger. Even though the boy still slept, Hugh wanted to be with him. He’d felt something in the way Jonathan had gripped his hand right before he’d let it go limp. Trust. Jonathan trusted Hugh to watch over him, to protect him and keep him safe. And Hugh would not fail. Not this time.

When Hugh was seated and slid his hand beneath Jonathan’s, he knew that he’d made the right decision when he felt a slight squeeze. Jonathan didn’t give any sign of waking other than that small movement, but Hugh knew that Jonathan was aware of his presence. Understanding that, and the thought that it was welcome, lifted a small part of the darkness that held sway in Hugh’s mind. His being there, just holding Jonathan’s hand, made a difference―a positive difference.

As Hugh sat, he looked around the small room. Something was different. There wasn’t the same amount of noise and it seemed to have more space. There were the same machines, the cooler and chairs, the beds; everything was the same as he remembered. But somehow the room wasn’t as claustrophobic as it had been before. Hugh began to realize that it wasn’t the room at all. It was him. He was beginning to open. He was beginning to let the light back in.

With that realization, Hugh bit back a sudden impulse to shut down. Part of him, a large part, wanted to run to his trailer and hide. If he opened up to the light, all of his dark secrets would be revealed. The mistakes of his life―judgments made, silences kept, words spoken―all of that and more would be placed in the forefront of his mind. He would have to face his demons and either fight to lay them down or give in to their call.

The hand Hugh held squeezed his fingers and Hugh blinked. He looked up from the clasped hands and into Jonathan’s face. A single green eye, still half shut, stared back at him. It wasn’t as glazed as it had been earlier, but it seemed to study him intently. Hugh was caught in that one eyed gaze and could hardly breathe as it bore into his soul.

The grip on his fingers relaxed, though Jonathan’s stare did not, and Hugh knew that he was waiting. Jonathan was waiting for him to speak.

“I knew your cousin.”