Standing By

Going Home

(Avi)

I became vaguely aware of my surroundings, my head pounding, a deafening swishing sound enveloping my head. God, my head felt like it was in a very noisy vice. I could barely hear anything over it, a mere buzz of possible words. Something dripped on my forehead, very light, several times. Was it raining? Where was I? Why did I feel so—so... tired, so battle worn, so achy? Something pressed to my face, nipping at my nose, pushing hard into me, restricting any airflow I might have had. I tried to open my mouth, but something was holding it still. I was going to suffocate! Starting to fight back against my oppressor, air—fresh air, purifying air—was pushed into me. My lungs filled but not under my own power, diaphragm pulling back to accommodate with space, then pressing up hard in protest. Stop, stop, get it off of me, this is only making it harder. The weight pulled off and my lungs fought me for a few terrifying seconds before settling down just enough to feel a trickling of water dripping down where it didn't belong. I started coughing, sitting up, twisting around in pain, coughing, coughing hard. Damn water, drizzling itself just over my larynx, threatening to rain into my lungs. My eyes popped open in the effort it took to cough out the water. Ground. Outside. My eyes ran up the hill I'd raced up and down a million times and it all came back to me. Hanukkah. Walk. Josh. I'd fallen, down this hill. Into the river. Still coughing, my head spun around to look at the river that had nearly taken my life. I lifted my eyes to Josh, sopping wet head to toe himself. He'd jumped in after me. He'd saved me. He had to have pulled my unconscious body out of the water. I had no recollection since I'd gone under until thirty seconds ago. God. I'd had to have scared the shit out of him. Seeing his hazed-over eyes, so red—he'd been crying, my stoic brother had been crying, his tired face, worry lines etching at his brow, I couldn't hold it back any longer. I leaned over and, finally coughing that damn drop out, let myself cry. "Josh, I—I'm so—sorry."

"Sorry?" he asked, taking me in a tight hug. "For what? You're alive. That's all that matters. I thought I'd lost you, Avi. God."

"For scaring you," I whispered tremulously.

Josh broke down at that. "Oh, Avi. Avi. You just almost died, and you're apologizing to me for scaring you? Only you, Avi. Only you."

I blinked slowly, still trying to get my wits about me. The river. The hill. Slipping underwater. The panic, the desperation for air, feeling myself sink down as I'd started passing out. I'd thought for sure I wasn't going to make it out alive; I'd been certain I was sinking to my death. Only to be jerked back, grounded, to mother earth, negating my passage to the other world, whatever, whoever it may be. I laid watery eyes, moistened by tears—grateful tears, relieved tears—on my brother. He'd saved my life. Literally found my floating and sinking body in the river, pulled me out against the current, against cold impartial unforgiving water. Brought me back to life, pushing air into my hungry deprived lungs, forcing oxygen into my bloodstream, feeding my cells, replenishing my brain, pleaded it back to consciousness, to life.

"Josh," I whispered, my heart full of emotion—fear from having nearly died, anger at my own ineptitude, guilt for having scared him, and gratefulness, eternal gratefulness, for just being here. For having the capability of drawing breath, of moving muscles I'd about given up on, blinking eyes that had nearly fallen shut forever, a mouth and a voice that had almost fallen silent. I was alive, thanks to him.

"Avi," he countered, his arms reaching and my arms reciprocating, as we fell into each other. Two brothers, having fought and conquered death. We just held each other, grateful for each other's presence, for long minutes before Josh looked up at me questioningly.

"How—how do you feel?" he ventured.

I closed my eyes. How did I feel? I took a quick gauge of myself, considering. Finally, I answered. "Tired. Like I've been fighting for ages. Like I got hit by a Mack truck. My head hurts, my back hurts, my knee hurts, my lungs hurt." I opened my eyes. Nearly dying hurt. I never wanted to do it again. Everything hurt; it was an ache, a solid ache.