Page 37 of Road to Absolution

What? Who the fuck are you?

Riddled with anxiety I’ve never felt before, I bit, “Fuck off.” Then I closed my eyes and took a breath. “Sorry.”

As if nothing was out of the ordinary, she patted my arm. “You’re not being rude. Just trying to come through a shock. That’s all.”

That’s all? It was as if no one was seeing my unease. I was in some sort of state of emotional overload and confusion.

Unsettled, I asked, “Why was I in a coma?”

Somewhat nonchalantly, the doc shined a pen light in each of my eyes. “You had a solid bump on your head. Can you remember how you got it?”

My body went rigid. Losing time—parts of your past—isn’t comforting. At least, it wasn’t for me. Especially when it had drained my wife and brother.

“No,” I clipped, needing to know how I hurt those I loved. “Someone needs to talk to me—”

“I will,” said the mature side of Tucker. This is the side I knew when I first met our little high school crew. I appreciated seeing it again since I was in need of someone having control over part of the life I had apparently forgotten. Holding my shoulder, he claimed, “You were in an accident. In your pops’ truck.”

I hadn’t realized I was still holding his hand until it tightened on mine, sensing I needed that, too.

I swallowed. “Tuck, I don’t understand why I can’t remember. I-I… Fuck.”

He laid his forehead to mine. “Who needs to remember a shitty accident, anyways.”

Trusting him, I closed my eyes and nodded, our heads staying connected. “Okay.” Inhale… “Okay.”

With determination, Tuck told me, “That’s right. I got you, brother.”

Someone was seeing the ants. “Okay.” Exhale… “Okay.”

Panic started to ease.

He confirmed, “I got you.”

“Okay.” My lungs stopped seizing. “Okay.”

I could feel Tuck’s forehead crinkle, announcing his smile. “Now, let the doc do his business so he can get the fuck out and give us privacy.”

So grateful for him taking the lead, I repeated, “Okay.”

One of the only good things about sleeping for a month was I avoided a lot of pain. That was clear when staring at the carnage my legs had become. It wasn’t total annihilation, but damn, parts of my thighs and shins had been through the wringer.

The ants were coming back to life… traveling through my veins.

I hadn’t considered myself to be egotistical—Fuck that. I was very egotistical, but not vain. My appearance wasn’t important. At least, that is what I believed until my appearance had been altered. Dramatically. My feet had been spared, which I was told was a miracle, for more than one reason, but parts of my legs had to receive skin grafts. Meshed grafts, where skin from other parts of my body were rolled through some machine and stretched to oblivion. Gross! Then those stretched grafts were pasted onto parts of me where docs removed damaged skin, if any left at all. My skin looked like someone decorated me with cut-up fishnet stockings you see with hooker Halloween costumes. Except, there were no true holes. My skin had grown and connected the dots, you could say.

Other damaged parts that were smaller, with only severe second-degree burns, had already scarred over on their own. All-in-all, my legs were now a horror show.

Insecure of how my wife now viewed my once “sexy” legs she used to love, I slowly peered up at her to gauge how grossed out she was at the sight of me.

My jaw dropped when I saw her beaming at my disaster pegs as if she couldn’t be prouder. I gazed back down to blink, thinking I must still have blurry eyes, but sure enough, my legs were a mess. How she wasn’t gagging simply defied all logic.

Once the doctor and nurse were gone, I had another part of my missed life to catch up on: Lilah’s belly. It was a wonderful distraction from my legs.

I stared… Her tummy had been one size. Then it was like I had merely blinked, and now it was bigger. Apprehensive, I asked my wife, “Is she okay?”

Delilah held her eight-month belly. “Strong.”

That had my eyes tearing up. That had me realizing I wanted to be strong, also. My gut tightened when something inside me claimed I was weak. Although it was an irrational thought, that doesn’t change the fact it was there, slowly breaking me down…