Bernard: Diary of a 46-yr-old Bellhop - 4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Going Home

It’d been a long night. Bernard slept only a couple hours at a time before Nancy or the other nurse for his wing, Paula, came in to check on his progress.

The next morning, after breakfast, Nancy came in for her shift that day and checked him over. She had a checklist of almost a dozen items that he had to meet before he could be released.

Bernard set down his juice glass after finishing it. Nancy smiled at him.

“Good job! That’s items one and two right there. How do you feel?”

Bernard yawned a bit. “Tired! You guys kept coming in to wake me up last night.”

Nancy cocked her head. “You were awake already some of the time last night. Dreaming of going home? Or something else keeping you awake?” She glanced up at him and winked. “Maybe thoughts of a certain hot doctor?”

Bernard gasped dramatically. “How did you—?”

She laughed to herself. “I’ve watched you making eyes at him. He’s a real nice guy. I’ve known him over two years now. I had the biggest crush on him until I met my boyfriend.”

“Do you think he’s…? Never mind, I’m not worthy of him even if the dream scenario came true and he were.”

Nancy took his hand. “What makes you say that? You’re a good man! Sure, you’ve got major troubles, but who doesn’t nowadays? I’ve got an ex-husband and two kids! Jack’s got issues, too. We all do.”

Bernard blinked back tears. “Mine are just a little more serious to me than anything else I guess. I have a tough time dealing with things. That’s why I’m here after all.”

“Well, if you keep going down this checklist, mister, you’ll be outta here in a few hours. I’ll be back in a bit. Ring me if you need anything at all.”

He kissed her hand. “Thank you, Nancy. You’re a very sweet woman.”

“Thank you. You just get better so you can get home.” She put his hand down gently, checked the monitors once more, and left the room.

Bernard let out a sigh. “Ah yes, home. The scene of the crime.”

Not three hours later, Bernard had completed every item on his checklist. Nancy paged Jack and they walked in together. He carried a small gift bag with him which he placed on the counter.

“Well, looks like someone is ready to leave our happy hospital.” Jack said with a smile.

“That’s a loaded statement, doc.” Bernard said with a tinge of sadness. “I’ll miss you guys, and this place.”

“You’ll miss this? Wow, most people can’t wait to leave.” Nancy interjected.

“Yes, but they don’t have my life to return to.” Bernard replied.

Jack put his hand on Bernard’s shoulder. “We’re not done here. I mean here we are, but you have a lot of work ahead of you. Dr. Rasmus thinks you two will work well together. Think you’re up to it?”

Bernard shrugged. “I guess so. It’s that or die.” He saw the two share a look. “Sorry to make things morbid. Course, I already did that by being obese. Uh, am I gonna be released or what?”

Jack grinned. “You are, but first, we have something for you. It’s a going away gift of sorts.” He crossed over to the gift bag and pulled out a new shirt. It was a regular tee, but in a bright shade of blue. It matched Bernard’s eyes. Jack handed it to him and watched his eyes light up and smiled. “Like it?”

“Y-Yeah! But you didn’t…”

Nancy chimed in. “Actually, we had to get you something. You came in here without a shirt on. We figured this was nicer than just a scrub top.”

Bernard held up the garment and felt the soft fabric. “Thank you both! It’s a great color too.”

“Matches your eyes.” Jack noted.

Bernard glanced up at him and the two smiled at each other. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

Jack folded up the bag and handed it to him. “Well, I’m sure you want to get out of your gown. I’ll sign you out and when you’re ready, just page me.”

Nancy snapped to. “I’ll go get a wheelchair.” She shot a look at Bernard. “Before you argue, its hospital policy. No one walks out of here. I’ll be right back. Get dressed, you’re going home!” She finished with a smile.

“We’ll be back in a few minutes.” Jack added. The two walked out and shut the door.

Bernard ran his hands through his short, gray hair and felt how greasy it was. “Well, at least there I can take a shower.” He walked over and got out his pants, socks, underwear and shoes from the bag. He turned them right side out and saw a few spatters of blood on the pants. He tried to blink back tears, but a few escaped. His eyes fell to the scars on his wrists. In a huff, he pushed the memories away and threw his clothes on, including the new blue shirt. He looked back at the nightstand and retrieved his journal. He picked it up and tucked it away in his plastic going-home bag.

Jack was an excellent driver. All the way over he never once looked over or took a call on his cell phone. Bernard tried not to stare at the man while giving directions; but at times his attention wavered a bit. It was nice to see him without a lab coat on for once. It was just the two of them; regular guys having a conversation.

Bernard looked over at his new friend. “So Doc, are you a sports fan?”

Jack glanced over and grinned his winning smile. “Not a huge fan, but I can sit back with a beer from time to time and watch a football or baseball game. How about you?”

Bernard cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. I like that kind of stuff took sometimes. I like more the snacks that accompany it.” He looked down at his bloated stomach. “Make that I enjoy them way too much. I need to lose some weight.”

“Well, I can start you on a diet; even have a nutritionist visit if you’d like to get you started. After that, I can visit or call and make sure you’re sticking to it.” Jack glanced up for a moment. “Which way on this street?”

“Oh, uh take a right. We’re only two streets away.”

“Right. So as I was saying, I can help you out, or Nancy or the nutritionist, any of us are willing to help.”

Bernard felt a lump in his throat at the kind words being uttered. He wasn’t used to such consideration. He looked up at just the last moment and saw his complex. “Over here on the right. You can park in the visitor spots.”

“Will do.”

It was daylight out, a stark contrast to the night the ambulance had pulled him out of the building, unconscious and on a gurney. Bernard’s eyes sat transfixed on the stairs where he’d been carried down just three nights prior. Jack noticed right away.

“Bernard? You alright?”

“Sure. I guess I will be, huh? Come on, let’s get inside. I wouldn’t mind my own bed again.”

Jack opened up the car door and outstretched his hand for the man to take. Bernard happily accepted and after gathering his belongings, they walked up the thick, concrete steps together. It wasn’t far, only 17 in all, but it seemed like a mountain to Bernard. With each step on the treads, he stood closer to the place where it all happened. Finally, he stood in front of his door. He fingered the digits screwed to the steel entry door, number 647 Eden St. He unearthed his keys from his pocket and unlocked the deadbolt.

Inside was a dark, stale environment. There was an odd stench from the kitchen area, which sat on the wall opposite the entry. Bernard was thankful for the daylight to guide his way. He tossed his keys into a jade bowl in the foyer and flipped on the lights in the kitchen. His face fell ashen as he saw his tool of choice from that horrid night; the butcher knife.

Upon sight of the weapon, Bernard burst into tears. Jack held him, but he shook off his grasp. “No, I must face it. I did this to myself.” He picked up the large knife and saw his own dried crimson blood as a sobering reminder of his mental state that night. He glanced down at his bandaged wrists and thought of the quick, slicing motions he’d made, hoping to sever not only his skin, but his lifespan as well.

“Bern—”Jack started, but was halted by the man’s hand on his.

“No. That’s my blood. By my own hand.” He laid the knife down and continued his view of the kitchen. The pill bottle that had housed the antidepressant pills was gone. “I remember the fresh prescription for Effexor that I took 10 of. Guess I’ll have a hell of a time getting more of them now, huh?”

Jack stood at a distance, but was never far. He watched the man finger the counter where he’d laid his arms to cut them. Dried blood had formed small, sticky pools of dark red fluid. Bernard propped his arms up on the surface and laid his head in his hands.

Jack heard sobs coming from his former patient. He rushed over and offered his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispered. He turned the man at his waist and they faced each other. Bernard buried his face into Jack’s gray shirt. “Shhh, I’m here for you. Don’t ever worry about that again.” He stroked the man’s scalp and neck while softly rocking him in his arms.

After a few moments, Bernard’s face surfaced. It was beet red, with streams of tears on all sides. “I’m surprised you could fit your arms around a fat ass like me.”

Jack frowned. “Please stop doing that to yourself. You’re not enormous.”

“Morbidly obese Doc. I am 100 pounds overweight. It’s amazing I can even do my job.” He reached for some paper towels and dried his face and blew his nose.

“Let me help you.” Jack offered placidly.

Bernard coughed a few times. “I’m not worth the help. You’ve done enough. I’m back home now in my little, bloody apartment, and back to my worthless job next Monday. What an exciting life, huh?”

Jack reached for him again. “You are worth it, and I’ll prove it to you. Right now, this place needs a bit of cleaning. I want you to rest while I take care of that.”

“But—”

“No buts, Mr. Covington. I’m here to help you and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m not your doctor anymore, but I am your friend. Let me help.”

Bernard bowed his head for a moment and smoothed his arms. He felt the scars on his wrists and it garnered a fresh batch of saline from his tear ducts. “Dammit. Can I even get a damn grip?”

Jack ran his fingers along the hairy arms, coated with long strands of gray hair. “With Rasmus’ help, you will again.”

Bernard tried to smile a bit at the handsome physician. He remembered what Nancy had said earlier about him. He reached for his hands. “Jack? Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Nancy told me that she had a crush on you, until you told her something. What was that?”

Jack grinned and stroked the man’s large face. “You didn’t figure it out by now? I’m gay, Bernard. Why?”

Bernard’s face lit up with a genuine smile.“I-I am too. I think about men all the time. I buy some of those magazines just to see other men. I used to date, before I gained all this weight. There were so many hot hotel guests! The magazines like Playgirl…I wish sometimes they’d leap through the pages and come to life. But then they’d see a fat loser like me and gag and leap back through.” His lower lip quivered and he covered his eyes. “Sorry. This is so damn embarrassing!”

Jack threw his arms around him and held him tight. “Don’t ever be ashamed of who you are. Remember that, alright? You’re a good soul, Bernard Covington. You’d be a blessing to any man as a friend or a lover. Or both.”

Bernard smiled and faced his friend. “Thank you. I hope someday I’ll believe it too. Maybe after I drop 100 pounds or so.”

“I told you, I can help you with that.” Jack said in a reassuring tone. “I’ll help you with anything you want. Right now, that’s taking care of you and your kitchen.” He walked over and picked up the knife. He examined the blood on it and shook his head. “Damn. You could’ve really cut your hand off with that!” he scolded.

“I wanted to end it. Permanently. How it happened didn’t matter.” Bernard took a seat on his sofa and sat back. “Damn, forgot how comfy this couch was.”

Jack found the paper towels and pulled off four sheets. He wrapped the knife in the towels and threw it in the garbage. Bernard saw and sat up.

Bernard sat up to protest. “Why’d you—“

“Do you truly want to be reminded of that night every time? Besides, it had blood on it. I don’t think it’s useable after that.”

“I guess not. Well, that was my biggest knife. Guess I can’t use anything else.”

“I’d hope you wouldn’t try again.” Jack shot back.

Bernard stood up and faced the man. “What’re you gonna do, Doc? Keep a 24 hour watch on me? Make sure I don’t do myself in?”

Jack nodded. “If need be.”

Bernard stood up and faced the man. “Why? Why is one obese mentally-corrupt middle-aged loser garnering all this attention?”

Jack smiled. “I told you, I’m your friend and I like you. You’re a good person and I want you to be able to see that for yourself.”

“I hope maybe someday that’ll be true. In the meantime, you’ve got to get back to your work.”

“Actually, I don’t. I took the afternoon off. You need company and Dr. Rasmus will see you this evening.”

Bernard smiled. “Really? You’ll stay until then?”

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Show me around your place. Hell, show me the whole complex.”

Bernard shook his head and felt more tears run down his fat cheeks. He touched Jack’s face softly. “Why are you doing this? I—”

He touched his finger to Bernard’s lips. “Shh, stop right there. I already know where you’re going with this statement.”

Bernard kissed the finger and moved it away from his mouth. “Jack…what’re you even doing here? Why are you helping a complete loser like me?”

“I’m far from perfect, my friend. I’m a recovering alcoholic. Been sober for just over six months now.”

“You drank? Holy cow! That’s great that you stopped! Why did you become one anyway? Job stress?”

“No. My lover died. Two years ago.”

Bernard spontaneously hugged him close. “I’m so sorry! Were you two together long?”

“Five years altogether. We had our rough spots and fights, but in the end, we were very in love. I think of him all the time.”

“What was his name?”

“Randy.” Jack fell silent for a moment.

“I’m so sorry about his death. Was it sudden or…?”

“He was 30 years old and dropped dead of a heart attack. No warning, no signs, nothing.”

“My God!” Bernard exclaimed.

“I was a complete disaster myself. Hit the bottle really hard, hence the AA now. I try to go to meetings daily, but my schedule is nuts. I call my sponsor though.”

“How are you doing?”

“Better. Every day is a gift, Bernard. We have to treat it as such.”

“Maybe one day I’ll see it that way.” He looked around the apartment and noticed what a disaster it was. Clothes were everywhere. There were two uniforms tossed over the chair in the corner by the patio door. Dirty dishes were piled up in the sink, and the bedding was torn from the mattress. Bernard looked up at Jack. “Right now, we need to clean this place up. That can be a start.”

“Lead the way.”

After the long afternoon together, he and Jack parted ways with a long hug. He hated to see the man go, but realized he needed to get going.

That evening, Dr. Rasmus dropped by.

“Bernard? How are you?”

“Fine, thanks doc. Jack made it easier to come home to this nightmare again.”

“He’s a good man. Let’s have a seat and talk for a while.”

“Sure thing. Oh, I meant to ask, what’s your first name?”

“Hector.”

“Hector.” Bernard repeated. “That’ll make things easier for me. I’m better with casual names than titles.”

“I’m the same way. So, tell me about your day. Leaving the hospital, coming home, seeing what you left behind.”

“It went pretty well. Jack drove me home and it was really tough at first. I didn’t want to come inside at all. I finally forced myself up the stairs and walked inside. It was ugly, that’s for sure.”

“How so?”

“The uh…the butcher knife was still there, with my blood on it. There was blood on the countertop…and the whole thing was just very difficult to look at.”

“I’d imagine so! How did you deal with it?”

“I lost it, basically. Jack took over from there. He sat me down, cleaned things up. Basically took care of me.”

“Sounds like you two have become good friends.”

Bernard smiled. “I sure hope so.”

They talked for a while longer then Dr. Rasmus departed for the night. Bernard made a quick supper of canned clam chowder and got ready for bed. He walked into his bedroom and saw his journal peeking out from his going-home bag. Bernard pulled it out of the sack and felt along its cover. He flipped back to an empty page and made another entry into it.

August 18^th, 2009

Jack is gay too! My prayers came true! I don’t know why he fawns over me, okay, maybe it’s just the whole suicide thing. I hope that’s not everything though. I really do feel something genuine for him. My mom has gotta be told soon…this’ll break her heart I know it, but I gotta tell her. I know Brenda hates me because of it. I don’t think I could stand losing my momma too! Night, Jack you handsome devil!