Chapter Twenty-Four
Everything is light and sound and nothing else for a while. I’m not sure how long, but it feels like days. I keep heaving my eyes open to see what’s happening, but it takes so much effort every time, and I still can’t piece together the things around me more than the basics.
I was in the race. I think there’s a brief flash of memory of being in an ambulance and seeing Silas.
But I wasn’t sure if I was the patient or he was.
He looked terrible. Pale and dirty and hunched in on himself.
I tried to reach for him, but my hand wouldn’t do what I was telling it and my head felt thick and fuzzy.
Then it was the hospital. Which feels real.
I don’t think it’s a dream. My eyelids are still heavy, but there’s the persistent sound of beeps and people walking quickly down hallways that’s so familiar.
An IV pump alarm is going off somewhere close to me, and it’s driving me insane.
I keep trying to open my eyes and reach for it.
Probably just a little air bubble or a kink in the line.
I want to fuck with the patient’s arm in case it’s positional, but that makes the realization that I’m probably the patient swim slowly up into my consciousness.
Everything goes dark and quiet again. This endless tug of war with my awareness goes on and on, until one time, I’m able to open my eyes, and I feel rooted in my body enough to look at the world around me.
I didn’t realize how much I wanted to see Silas until I look around and he’s not here. No one’s here. I can tell I’m in one of the inpatient rooms, not the ER, but other than that, the room is empty.
Wait. Not totally empty. When I arch my neck enough, I can see someone sitting in a chair wedged into the corner of the room. It takes long, syrupy chunks of time for me to figure out who it is, but eventually it comes to me.
The girl that came with Dad. K-something. Krista?
Krystal. That’s it.
“What happened?” I try to ask, but it comes out as more of a rasp.
Krystal looks up from her phone at the sound of my voice. She’s silent for a minute, then untucks her legs from beneath her, drags the armchair up the edge of the bed and folds herself back into it.
I almost suspect that time is moving wrong for me still, but finally she speaks. Her Arkansas drawl is thick as hell, more than I noticed the other time we met, but she’s not yelling at me. Which is probably more than I could ask if Silas were here.
“You crashed your bike. I don’t really know the details, but Silas called your mom, and we were with her at the time so we all came down.
Her and Kyle were here a minute ago but they couldn’t stop fighting, so I told them both to get until they could behave themselves.
Said I’d sit with you. We were all waiting for you to wake up. ”
God, everyone must be so fucking mad at me.
I’m so fucking mad at me.
“How long has it been?”
It takes me a couple of tries to get the words out though, because my throat is so raspy and it triggers a weak coughing fit. I realize there’s an oxygen cannula under my nose, and do my best to breathe some O2 in.
Krystal passes me a plastic cup with a little water in it and helps me drink. Her expression is flat, but something about her presence is more maternal than I would have expected. Or maybe I’m just so starved for it, I’d enjoy a hug from a wire sculpture, at this point.
“Not long,” she says. “You came in late last night, it’s only just gone morning now.”
She pauses, and I feel like she’s waiting to say something else.
“Your throat hurts because they had to put a tube in it when you weren’t breathing enough on your own. Something about a cracked rib and a little hole in your lung. You scared your momma half to death.”
My throat clenches and my heart rate picks up, but I don’t know what to say back to that.
“I’m sure your head hurts, they said you busted it pretty bad.”
This time I turn to look her in the eye, my mouth hanging open.
“No way,” I start. “I had my helmet on like always. It should be fine.”
Krystal taps long, coffin-shaped acrylics on the arm of the chair a few times before she answers.
“The helmet was still on when they brought you, I think. I wasn’t here yet. But they were talking about your brain bouncing around in your skull. There was a fancy word for it, but I don’t remember. Coo-something.”
I drop my head back into the pillow and look at the blank ceiling, already tired from turning to look at her.
“Coup-contrecoup.”
I can see her snap her fingers and point at me out of the corner of my eye.
“That’s the one. Sounds like you really fucked yourself up. They weren’t sure how long it would take you to wake up.”
It’s hard to stop trying to look around, even though it makes my head throb and the low light in here is still too bright.
“Shouldn’t you be telling the nurse I woke up, or something? If everyone was so worried, how come nobody’s in here?”
I sound like a little kid, but I can’t bring myself to be fully ashamed right now.
Krystal takes her time to answer.
“I can get the nurse. Seems like you’re doing alright, though, and they’re stretched pretty thin around here. You had your scans; doctor told us it was just a matter of waiting, to try not to worry. You’d have a lot more people in here if they weren’t all so worked up right now.”
I’m scared to ask, but I do it anyway.
“Where’s Silas?”
My eyes well up embarrassingly fast when I say it. God, I’m so scattered. I’m terrified that he hates me. He would be right to, I know it. But if it’s true, I’m not sure I’m ready to face that reality yet. I blink back the tears, hoping she’s about to tell me he went to the bathroom or something.
“He was having a hard time. One of y’all’s friends showed up and they said they were going to go get your bike and truck from the track. I think he might have just needed a minute.”
A tear slips out without me being aware of it. It feels like all I’ve done is cry lately. When the fuck did I become this much of a mess?
Krystal tilts her head at me, and even though her expression stays blank, it feels sort of sympathetic. She lets out a big sigh, like all of this is an imposition on her—which I guess it is, she doesn’t fucking know me—and then reaches out to run her fingers through my hair.
The gesture almost makes me crumble. I want to crawl into her lap and hang onto her like a little kid, as pathetic as that is. I take a few gulping, shaky breaths and get myself under control, though. Crying about it isn’t going to help anything right now.
“It’s okay to be sad, hun. But I’m sure he’ll be back soon. He’s upset, but anyone with a set of eyes can see how much he adores you. It’ll be okay. You should probably try to stop doing stupid shit though, like getting into accidents or starting fights all the time.”
That makes me laugh a little, even though it sounds wet and the action makes my headache worse.
“I’m honestly surprised you’re being so nice to me,” I tell her.
“Yeah, well.” Her fingers keep stroking my hair, and she shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“If my kid was alone in the hospital, I’d want somebody there to be sweet to him, if it couldn’t be me.
He’s had a hard go of it, just like you.
Gets angry a lot, just like you. It doesn’t cost you anything to show someone a little kindness. ”
My forehead creases and I keep studying her as I listen.
“If you have a kid, what are you doing slumming around with my shitty dad?”
That almost drags a smile out of her, but if it counts as one, it’s bittersweet.
“I had some shitty stuff happen to me. And I did some shitty stuff to myself. Made a lot of bad choices, so the state finally took him. He’s twelve, and behavioral,” she makes air quotes as she says the word.
“So they put him in a group home. I have a court date for it soon, but I needed to get away for a little bit, as long as I wasn’t allowed to see him.
I couldn’t stand being at home without him.
Your dad and I happened to meet at a mutually convenient moment. ”
I’m watching her, trying to figure out what to say, because stories like that always hit me where it hurts.
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugs, and starts stroking my hair again. “I’ll get him back. Jump through their hoops, make better choices. Find some safer ways to work, so I don’t catch any more solicitation charges. Maybe I can start one of those OnlyFans accounts and get famous.”
Now she really does smile, teasing me a little, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Anything sounds better than hanging out with Kyle and bankrolling his dumb road trip.”
Krystal looks at the ceiling for a moment, like she’s thinking.
“Hey, I’m not looking for your pity. Kyle’s not that bad, anyway.
Not really. I’m sure he was a terror when you were little, I’m not saying any of that isn’t true.
But in my experience, men like him tend to either mellow as they age and let the fight drain outta them, or they let everything else drain out and become all fight.
All hard edges all the time. Those are the ones you need to stay away from. ”
“I guess,” I say, chewing on my lip out of habit.
“Trust me, you don’t wanna be around that guy, and you don’t wanna become that guy.
Don’t let your anger get the best of you.
Not even your dad turned into that angry, bitter old man, but that doesn’t mean you won’t if you’re not careful.
There are plenty of ways to hurt the people who love you without physically hurting them, if you see what I mean. ”
I know she’s talking about Silas, but when I try to say anything about it, it’s like my throat clenches shut.
“You seem like a sweet kid, Cade. And you’ve got somebody who loves you. Don’t let that go if you can help it.”
I huff, forcing myself to keep it light.
“Hey, you’re like, five years older than me, max. I don’t think you can really call me a kid.”
“Yeah, well I’ve still got all my body parts intact and you’re the one who bruised his brain and punctured his lung going bike riding at night, so I’ll call you whatever I want.”
Valid. Everything hurts right now, and I’m acutely aware of my own shameful, self-centered stupidity.
“So, what? You were just sent here by the heavens to dispense your street-walker wisdom and show me the error of my ways?”
The fingers that were previously stroking my hair pause to flick me on the nose. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make me feel like a scolded puppy.
“Don’t be a smart mouth. You’re not so injured I can’t slap the shit out of you.
No, I’m not your fairy fucking godmother, but I am the only person left sitting here, so I thought it was worth a shot.
Everything I said is common fucking sense, anyway, not exactly wisdom from the almighty.
Which you would see, if you could pull your head out of your ass for a minute.
I barely fucking know you and I can see that the solution to a lot of your problems boil down to stop being a dumbass. ”
She takes a deep breath, and goes back to stroking.
“Besides. Chances are I fucked my kid up so bad I’ll be lucky if you’re what he grows up to be like. I’m doing my best to cut that shit off at the pass, but I could stand to shore up as much good karma as I can find.”
Again, I’m hit with the urge to cry, and barely hold it back. I’m trying to find an appropriate way to thank her, when familiar voices interrupt.
Mom and Dad, walking towards my room and still bickering with each other, as far as I can tell.
“Oh, shit on a shamrock, you’re awake. Thank god,” Mom says from the doorway before rushing over.
“There he is,” Dad says. “See? Told you he’d snap out of it. He’s a strong kid.”
He doesn’t rush over, but he does step closer, and I tense up without meaning to. I don’t want to look at him yet. I feel like my nervous system is being fried from every angle.
Of course, Krystal is still sitting right next to me, and she’s watching my expression shift with a calculating gaze. She nods at me briefly, and holds my gaze as she raises her voice to talk to him.
“Kyle, my court date got moved up. I gotta get back home, and you promised you’d drive me. We should get out of here. I’m sure the cops have gotten bored of looking for you over some bullshit charges, at this point.”
No one speaks for a second.
“Um, alright I guess. Kid, are you okay if I take off?” he asks me, as if he’s ever been there for me before.
I don’t turn and look at him, keeping my head twisted in Krystal’s direction, squeezing my eyes shut and pushing it into the pillow. My right hand feels functional, at least, so I raise it in the air and wave goodbye at him without a word.
More silence, but everyone seems to eventually get it that I’m not going to say anything to him.
Krystal stands up, making enough rustling noise that it breaks the tension.
“Alright, well. Feel better. Be good to your mother,” is the last thing he says to me, making me huff into the pillow.
He and Mom mutter together for another minute, but I very deliberately don’t listen to what they’re saying.
Once Krystal and Kyle are gone, a lot of pressure eases out of the room, and I can hear Mom approaching me. I still don’t turn around to look at her, though. It’s all too much right now, I just want to lie here, suspended in time.
“Has the doctor or anyone been in since you woke up? I think they wanted to run some tests.”
“No. It’s only been a minute.”
“Alright,” she says. “I’ll get somebody. You hang tight.” She squeezes my shoulder gently before she turns toward the door, probably expecting me to look at her, but I stay as I am.
The only person I want to talk to right now is Silas, but after everything I’ve put him through, I guess I owe it to him to be patient.
I can wait.