Finding Jaime

Chapter 41

I wasn't feeling any happier in the morning and was dreading driving Jaime to school. But I would. Because we had to get past this.

I got dressed, checked on the younger boys and knocked on Jaime's door as I passed.

Meagan was getting Marvel ready.

I pulled out bowls, spoons, cereals and the milk. I heard the boys coming downstairs but didn't hear Jaime.

Bronx and Saint came into the kitchen and dropped their school bags on the floor outside the kitchen. They grabbed bowls and cereal and sat down to eat.

"Did you see if Jaime was up?" I asked them.

"His door is still closed.  I didn't go in," Bronx said.

I frowned. I didn't know if he was avoiding me or if something else was going on.

Sighing, I got up and went upstairs and knocked on his door again.  There was no answer. I knocked again.

"Jaime?" I called. No answer. Now I was getting worried. 

I opened his door and saw him still lying in bed. I huffed out a breath and went to him. His eyes were closed and he was fast asleep. I poked him.

"Hey," I said. "Get up. You're going to be late for school."

He mumbled something incoherent.

Just then Marvel ran into the room.

"Hi Jaime!" She said, climbing up on his bed. She crawled over him and sat on the wall side of his bed, where he was facing.

"Jaime, come on. Get up," I said.

"Daddy, Jaime had a sick."

"He what?" I asked. Marvel pointed at Jaime and I looked over him. He'd thrown up in his bed. What the?

"Jaime!" I said. I grabbed Marvel and asked her to go find her mommy. I needed her out of the room.

I rolled Jaime onto his back and patted his face.

"Jaime, Jaime wake up!" I called. His eyelids fluttered. I looked around the room, but I didn't see anything out of place. I went into his bathroom and saw an open bottle of over the counter sleeping pills. It was mostly empty. I put it in my pocket, tears coming to my eyes, and dialled 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"My son, I think my son tried to kill himself!" I cried into the phone. "He's not waking up, he's thrown up on his bed and I found a mostly empty bottle of sleeping pills in his bathroom. Please, please send someone!"

Megan came running into the room.

"Marvel said Jaime's sick. What's going on? Who are you calling?"

I showed Megan the bottle of pills I'd found in the bathroom. Her hand went to her mouth and she rushed to Jaime's side.

"Jaime, wake up honey," she sat on the bed and shook Jaime's shoulders. "Jaime!? Pete, I don't think he's breathing!"

I ran over and put my hand on Jaime's chest and my ear by his mouth. Jaime's breathing was shallow. But he was breathing. I told the operator that.

"Meagan, where's Marvel?"

"She's downstairs with the boys. Why?"

"Make sure she stays there. I don't want her to see Jaime like this. And I don't want her to hear what might happen when the paramedics get here."

"I'll take Marvel with to drop the boys off at school," she said. I nodded while patting Jaime's cheek.

"Leave the front door unlocked. I'm staying up here with Jaime until the paramedics get here."

Meagan, ran downstairs to distract the kids and get them off to school.

"Jaime? What were you thinking?" I asked my son's unconscious form lying on the bed. I sat beside him and put my head in my hands. Was this my fault? Had I been too harsh? He had committed a crime. I wasn't being unreasonable. Was I?

The 911 operator got my attention.

"Sir!  The ambulance is in your driveway. Is the front door unlocked?"

"Yes. We're upstairs, first bedroom on the right."

I heard the sound of voices over a radio as the paramedics and possibly police or fire came in. I heard them coming up the stairs and moved to the door to Jaime's room.

"Over here," I said to the paramedics. They were followed by firemen and police. I told them what I could and what I knew. I gave them the bottle of sleeping pills.

"Is your son suicidal? Has he attempted before?" One of the cops asked me.

"I don't know," I said. "He just lost his mom a few weeks ago and just came to live with us.  We were still getting to know each other."

"Can you think of any reason he may have tried to take his life?"

"We had a fight yesterday. He got himself into some fairly serious trouble we argued about it and I grounded him for two weeks. But other than that, I can't imagine."

"And you don't know if he's ever attempted before?"

"I don't. I didn't even know he existed until his mom died."

The cop looked at me skeptically. I rolled my eyes.

The paramedics had cut off Jaime's t-shirt and were sticking things to his chest and trying to rouse him. They continued doing what they needed to while I spoke with the police. They'd started an I.V. and had an oxygen mask on his face. I couldn't tell if he was breathing any better. I was frantic.

After what felt like hours, the paramedics were ready to take Jaime to the hospital. The cops said they'd meet us there. They had more questions. I followed the paramedics to their bus and climbed in beside my son. I took his hand, limp and dry in my hand, and held it.

I was crying and I didn't care who saw. I wished Jaime would open his eyes and see me crying. And then make some snarky remark about me crying over him.

We raced to the hospital.

On the way, Jaime's heart stopped.