“Can we stay?” Ema’s voice cracks and Rodney wraps her tighter in his arms.
“There can only be one person, I’m sorry.” She’s not sorry at all, but she has to follow hospital protocol.
The nurse leaves and Ema breaks down into tears, standing up and wrapping Raiden’s hand in hers. “I don’t want to leave him, I can’t do it Rodney.” She keeps repeating the same words over and over again. The words I feel down to my bones.
“Let Jericho stay, and we’ll come back first thing in the morning. Visiting hours start at 7:00 am and I’ll bring you back.”
I feel an immense amount of gratitude for Rodney, and the desperation I was feeling slowly dissipates as Ema’s tears die off and she nods slowly.
“You’re right, Raiden would want him here.” She turns her attention to me. “Call me if anything changes, please Jericho. He’s my baby.”
“I will, of course I will Ema.” I grab her in my arms and pull her small frame to mine and hug her tightly, trying to take the burden from her. I’ll shoulder the burden for all of us until Raiden wakes up.
**
After they leave, I scoot my chair even closer to Raiden’s side. His breathing is steady, the rise and fall of his chest under the gown moves the tubes across him. I tug the blanket close to his chin, not wanting him to be cold. A cold front is moving inand the temperature is set to drop overnight tonight and I don’t want him to be uncomfortable for a single minute.
I rest my chin on the edge of his bed, staring at him. His hair is pushed back away from his face, the dark strands sticking to his head and laying down flat. There’s an incision on the back of his head that can’t be seen from this angle, and I’m grateful. I would be spending more time staring at that and trying to imagine how much pain he was in. That’s not what I should be focusing on. I should be focusing on finding ways to help him wake up. The edge of the bandaid is barely visible from my angle, and the nurse warned me to let them know if I see blood spread across it.
“Raiden, baby, please wake up. You’re scaring me.” I admit, feeling a tear streak down my face and wet the bed underneath my head. “I can’t do this without you, tiny dancer. Just open your pretty eyes and look at me. Please, Raiden. Look at me.”
His chest moves in that same steady rhythm, his body doesn’t react to my words though. I grip his hand tightly in mine and hold on, waiting for the moment I feel his hand move under mine.
“Do you remember when we said we were going to New York City together one day? I’ll take you. I promise I’ll take you if you wake up. We can go at Christmas time and see the big tree. We can go ice skating at the Rockefeller Center, and I’ll hold you up and never let you fall. I’m sure you would be graceful though, spinning around and showing me up. Then, after all the Christmas stuff is said and done, we’ll celebrate your birthday. Whatever you want to do–as long as we’re together. And then we’ll watch the ball drop for New Year’s. Not from the ground though, there’s too many people. I heard someone last year wore a diaper so they wouldn’t lose their spot. I would make sure we had the best view to watch it in real time. And as soon as the clock strikes midnight, I will kiss you. Iwill ring in the new year with you. All you have to do is wake up, Raiden.”
Nothing. There’s nothing.
I lay my head on his hand, being mindful of the IV lines underneath his skin. I watch him, waiting for any movement to let me know he’s waking up.
I’m startled awake when the nurse comes in, sometime between my plans for when Raiden wakes up and my pleading for him to open his eyes, my eyes close on their own volition.
“Sorry, just checking his vitals. Do you need anything? The way you’re sitting can’t be comfortable.” Her smile is full of pity as she stares down at me but I shake my head.
The only thing I need now is for him to wake up.
30
JERICHO
“Hey, tiny dancer. If you can hear me, I really need you to wake up.” I’m not above begging at this point. His parents just left for the day, the same distraught feelings that have burrowed themselves inside of me and created a home carved into the lines of their faces.
It’s been almost one month, with no updates. Thanksgiving is next week, and I’ve never felt less thankful in my whole life. The doctor keeps reassuring us that every patient is different, and Raiden will wake up. He just can’t be sure when.
My parents are having their usual get together, sans me, Ema, and Rodney. The three of us agreed that we wanted to spend the holiday with Raiden.
I can’t leave him alone in here. Especially on a holiday. That’s cruel. Even if he’s not conscious to know it.
The days and nights are dragging, the sun disappearing sooner and the moon staying longer. It’s blanketing our city in a cocoon of darkness and despair.
“My mom said she would make udon for you, with the special toppings you like. Only if you wake up though.” I attempt to lighten the mood with the joke, but it falls flat whenmy voice cracks and a tear makes an appearance. That’s nothing new though, I’ve gotten more used to how many tears my body can create. And there’s no point in wiping them off as they come because new ones will come in their wake.
The monitors keep their steady rhythm as the hospital hustles and bustles around us, the noise from nurses and other patients filtering their way in through the cracks. The nurse just made his round, dropping off dinner for me and letting me know to alert them when I’m ready to give him his bath.
I hated the first time I had to watch it happen, seeing Raiden unresponsive under their hands as they cleaned every intimate part of him. He would hate it. From that day forth, I’ve taken over his hygiene routine. It’s not exactly the same as theirs but it's what Raiden would prefer if he were able to voice his opinions.
The silence is beginning to make me go stir crazy. I keep waiting for him to wake up, to look at me with those brown eyes I adore and say my name.
It hasn’t happened yet, and everyday without him is another day that my mind creates the endless possibilities of a life without him.
