Chapter 5
Jude
Jude felt his body begin to float back down to earth.
Whatever pain medication he’d been given must be wearing off.
He tried again to wiggle his fingers and toes and was unable to do either.
Was he still strapped down to the gurney?
It felt as though time had passed. How much, he wasn’t sure.
He felt alone, as if he were lost somewhere in the void without a map or a compass.
“Jude?” A familiar voice asked. “Are you awake?”
That was a good question. Was he awake? He tried to open his mouth to speak, but found that he couldn’t. There was something in his mouth and down his throat. What the hell was going on?
“Take my hand, sweetheart, and open your eyes.”
“Bertha?” Jude whispered. He opened his eyes to see Bertha Craig sitting in a chair beside him.
Jude sat up and took a look around the room.
It was sterile looking, with a sink, a red biohazard bag and a television mounted across the way.
Machines surrounded the bed. Some beeped.
Others whooshed and hissed. He turned to get a better look at them and saw his body laying prone on the bed.
Gasping, Jude hopped to his feet. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
How was it possible for him to be standing beside his own body?
For that matter, how was it possible that he could see Bertha.
“Oh, fuck. I’m dead.” He looked to Bertha who wore a sad look in her blue eyes.
“I’m dead and you’re my guardian angel. Please tell me you’re here to take me to heaven. ”
Bertha got out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Jude. “You’re not dead, Jude. The doctors have put you in a coma to help your brain heal. That’s why you’re on the respirator too, so all of your energy can go toward healing.”
Jude thought over what Bertha was telling him.
If he truly was dead, he doubted very much that heaven was a hospital intensive care unit.
As he pondered his fate, a nurse walked into the room.
She checked two of the machines, typed notes into the laptop she carried, and walked back out.
“I don’t like his chances,” the nurse said to a doctor Jude had never seen before.
“Monitor his EEG results, and if anything changes…” The doctor and nurse stepped away from the door.
Jude could no longer hear what they were saying.
“Sounds like I’m a goner.” He turned and stared down at his broken body.
His left arm was in a cast. His face, chest and arms were covered in deep purple bruises.
A tube snaked its way out from under the covers, ending in a bag filled with a dark yellow liquid.
He shut his eyes, not wanting to see what other horrors his body had been subjected too.
“Leave me in peace, Bertha. Just let me die. I don’t want to be a vegetable.
I don’t want to spend my life in a wheelchair, unable to move or speak.
” Or make love to his husband. Or hug his kids.
Bertha sighed. “Byrne, pity party of one.” Bertha’s hands sat on her hips and unless Jude missed his guess, he was about to get his ass handed to him.
“That nurse just said she didn’t like my chances. You heard her.”
“Yeah, I heard her,” Bertha agreed, “but the Jude I know would have told her to go get fucked. The question is, what is this Jude gonna do?”
Jude took a moment to assess himself. Every single part of his body hurt.
He could feel the breathing tube down his throat and wished he could yank it out.
Same went for the catheter, although he’d do a more gentle job of that.
His anger was great, but it hadn’t changed anything.
“Bertha, I can’t move my fingers or toes.
I can’t breathe on my own. What the hell kind of life would I live if I woke up from this?
” Jude was tired. All he wanted was for Bertha to leave, so he could be alone with his happy memories of Cope and the kids.
“I’ll tell you what kind of life it won’t be, mister.” Bertha walked across the room. “Take my hand.”
“Do I look like Ebenezer Scrooge? Because you sure as shit aren’t Jacob Marley.” Jude rolled his eyes.
Bertha grabbed his hand and gave it a yank.
Jude felt himself teeter for a moment. He tried to catch his balance, but Bertha was too strong.
Jude felt himself tumble. Then fall. The out of body sensation made him feel like he was going to throw up.
Could ghosts throw up? Was Jude a ghost? Or was he a disembodied spirit?
Jude had no answers. Maybe if he listened more and talked less, he’d find a way to come back to his husband and family. He’d do anything for Cope, Wolf, and Lizbet.