Chapter 17
The following day, in the early hours of the morning, Marc sat beside his mother. She was just lying there and all he could do was hope that she would wake up soon to see her family again.
‘Please, Mom, just wake up...’
Another hour dragged by. It was almost 4am and nothing had changed. The room still looked grey and somber and the sophisticated medical equipment continued to do its job, delivering oxygen, fluids and salts, measuring pulse and blood pressure; all so coldly impersonal and automatic.
He couldn’t comprehend the idea of losing his mother. Not yet. He was fatherless already; he didn’t need this. His own family was slowly falling apart around him and even though he and Rachel had made up and were trying to get back what they had before, he knew in his heart they would never be the same happily married couple again.
“Marc…”
A faint, weak voice broke into his thoughts. Hilda was awake at last.
“Ma! Hey, er…don’t speak, it’s okay, you just had a nasty accident—”
“Ja… I… don’t remember. Where’s Jack? Is he all right…?”
“Mom, he’s fine, don’t worry about him. Everything’s going to be alright now, you’ll see.” He leaned across and enfolded her in his arms, hugging her lovingly.
She didn’t respond; she felt limp. Of course, she was very weak; only to be expected…
The life support equipment continued to beep monotonously. He looked at it and then at his mother’s face. Her eyes were distant… glazed.
“Mom? Can you hear me?”
There was no response; nothing in her face. She was dying.
The machine confirmed Marc’s fears as it suddenly stopped its rhythmic beeping and emitted a continuous whining sound. He looked at the monitor; it had flat lined.
“Mom…Mom! Oh, god!”
He ran out quickly, shouting out for nurses or anyone who was around to help.
“Sir? Try to calm down, now. What’s happened?”
A tall, balding doctor hurried into Hilda’s room. He had known from the start that this patient wouldn’t make it. Considering her age and the severity of the heart attack, he hadn’t even given her a fifty/fifty chance of survival.
The doctor made two or three manual checks and then checked the equipment and the various read-outs. Marc felt helpless and lonely as the man shook his head and gently closed Hilda’s sightless eyes.
“I’m so sorry, sir…”
She had passed on. The doctor had no need to spell it out and words anyway meant very little at a time like this.
Marc walked over to her. She looked so peaceful he almost envied her.
“Goodbye, Mom,” he whispered, kissing her sweet forehead and closing his eyes for a moment before walking away to break the news to his wife and son.
* * * * *
Todd was in shock and, grabbing the nearest bottle within reach, he downed some bourbon. It helped, but wasn’t going to help the fact he was now unemployed.
“What? I’m fired? Why?”
“Someone put in a complaint about you at work. That is all I am saying. You’ll still be paid from the last two weeks, but I’m sorry, you’ll have to find another job. Goodbye, Todd.”
He stared at the phone as the call ended with a click.
‘What the fuck am I going to do now? I’ve got no job, no money, no girlfriend...’
He sat down heavily, feeling sorry for himself and swigging neat alcohol from the bottle. In two hours time he would be having his therapy session with Evan, his psychiatrist. He usually enjoyed these sessions, but today he just didn’t want to face him, not in his present state.
He had managed to drink half of the bottle of bourbon and needed to sober up before he went anywhere, but… what the hell! He drank a little more in the next hour and then stopped for an hour and was now on his way to his session with Evan. He thought he had sobered up a little… at least he was functioning. Evan would definitely smell the alcohol on him today, but that was something Todd did not give serious consideration to.
“Good day, Todd. Take a seat. How has your week been?”
Todd measured his way to the sofa and sat down carefully. He felt woozy and pretty unstable at the moment and tried to guess how long it would take Evan to notice the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. Todd couldn’t smell it himself but he knew others could; it wouldn’t be long.
“It’s... it has been good. I have been coping a lot better with life, but...” he stopped in mid-sentence. He wanted to tell Evan about being told by phone that he had just lost his job, but he couldn’t bear to, he felt like a loser.
“But what? Carry on, Todd, please continue.”
“I was fired today.”
“I see.”
‘Is that all he can say?’
“Did they give you a reason for letting you go?”
“They did, but I would rather not say.”
‘You tried to rape her; you wanted to hurt her just like all the others hurt you!’
“Think about this for a moment, Todd... I think it would help matters if you did tell me.”
“Okay. My boss told me that someone put in a complaint about me… apparently I attacked someone.”
There was no immediate response from Evan and the room fell silent.
‘Is he waiting for me to say something now or what?’
“Don’t tell me it’s true. Is it, Todd?”
“I can’t believe you think I would do something like that!” Again, he lost it. He wanted to be calm and just listen to what Evan had to say, but he couldn’t, he just wanted to break out of this room and leave; go back home to his bottle.
“Todd, I have never seen this side of you before. Please, just calm down.”
But Todd rose from the suede couch and stared at Evan.
“Uh, what are you doing, Todd? Just try to be calm—”
“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down!” Todd slammed his fists onto the desk, making Evan jump.
Neither of them spoke but Evan was waiting for his patient to say something first.
Todd didn’t oblige. He stood, motionless for a few more moments, still staring hard at Evan and then, as if on some unseen cue, he turned and walked out of the building. He didn’t return and never saw the psychiatrist again.
