Categories > Original > Drama > Separation
December 28, 1977
Nine hours across country only to be taken from one hospital to another. Mercifully, Dr. Karl was there waiting for him. The East had become an alien world to him, and Ray was glad to see a more familiar face. When had his family become strangers? In the back of his mind, Ray wondered how his father would justify the return of his prodigal son? He would probably explain his injuries away as the result of an accident of some sort; have him blacklisted as not only mentally but also physically incompetent. It didn't matter anymore, anyway.
Now that he was back where his parents could keep a more immediate eye on him, they didn’t spend as much time at the hospital. While Ray was glad to finally have some peace, he felt alone in a way he hadn’t out West. No one here knew him. There would be no cards or phone calls, no visits with friends from church or work or anywhere else. He didn’t say anything about the dosage of pain medication putting him to sleep far more quickly than it should have. In the back of his mind, Ray was content to sleep away any time not spent trying to get his synapses back in gear. If he wasn’t awake, he didn’t have to deal with the emotional trauma still lurking in the background.
"Mommy?" her daughter spoke up. "Who is that?"
"That’s your uncle, Sophie."
"The one nobody will talk about?"
"Yes, honey. That’s your Uncle Ray."
"What happened to him?"
"He got hurt."
"How?"
Leah truly wished she had an answer. "I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t know."
Her attention suddenly snapped upward as an indistinct groan drifted from the bed. Breath caught, she dared not say anything. She hadn’t meant to wake him. Ray’s face contorted briefly as he fought for consciousness, dark eyes blinking deliberately before coming to rest on her.
"...Leah?" The word was dry and cracked, spoken with brows knit in confusion. With his eyes he glanced dubiously at the IV bag dangling above his head, evidently wondering if he was hallucinating.
"No, it’s really me," she assured him. "I heard what happened. I had to see if you were really all right."
His closed-lipped smile spread into a grin, the sight spoiled by the mesh of wires holding his teeth and jaws in place. Blinking rapidly, he appeared to be fighting tears, but after a couple of steady breaths managed to gain control of himself.
"Good to see ya, Sis," he told her, words remarkably distinct as only veterans of years of childhood orthodontia could pronounce them.
"How are you," she pressed. "Are you feeling all right? Are you being well cared for?"
"I can’t feel a thing," he chuckled. "They’ve got me on some pretty strong stuff. Don’t worry; they’re taking real good care of me."
"Ray, what happened?"
"About three brick walls and an I-beam."
Her boggled expression was understandable, Ray felt.
"There was a terrorist incident downtown. I got caught in the middle of it. Had half a building come down on me. The doctors say I’ll be all right, though." It wasn’t a lie, not really, but even Leah, whose job as a child had been to watch out for him when he had what his family assumed to be an epileptic seizure, could not be told the whole truth. She nodded slowly, suspecting, but saying nothing.
"Who’s this?" he asked, glancing at the little girl clinging to her mother’s skirt and staring at him in morbid fascination.
"This’s Sophie, my oldest."
The light seemed to drain from his face at this. "Your oldest..." he repeated. "Leah, I..." His voice caught. He had received an announcement, but no invitation to her wedding, had not been notified when any of her three children had been born. All contact had been almost completely cut off and he had had no way to know what had transpired in the last ten years.
"It’s okay, I know," she told him gently, feeling tears prick behind her own eyes. "It wasn’t your fault. I know you would have come if you could."
Unable to nod, he closed his eyes in assent, sighing heavily, comforted that she understood. She let him rest a moment, process the information and gather his thoughts. He knew she’d married, though her husband’s name was eluding him. They’d had cute kids at any rate, if Sophie was any indication. She looked as if she might have been six or seven, but that could have been the petite Kalahearn genes. There was a lot of Leah in her, but here and there she showed touches of another blood line- blue eyes, curly hair, skin a shade or two darker than her mother’s. Until now she’d been staring at him quietly, half-hidden behind her mother’s legs. The curiosity was still there, though the fear seemed to have left her.
"You were more handsome in my dream," she told him with the frankness only small children and octogenarians seemed to possess. Ray blinked at this, somewhat taken aback, but couldn’t help a smile.
"Sophie..." Leah admonished gently, her brow creasing briefly in what could have been either embarrassment or concern.
"But you said— "
"Not now, honey. Later."
And then it clicked. Strain as he might, that sixth sense was long gone, and any extra unseen marker Sophie might have was invisible to him. However, the mother and daughter exchange had been enough, and even if he’d manage to miss the significance of Sophie’s careless remark, the fear and pleading in Leah’s eyes told him all he needed to know.
She’d kept him safe while they were growing up; now it was his turn to return the favor.
Nine hours across country only to be taken from one hospital to another. Mercifully, Dr. Karl was there waiting for him. The East had become an alien world to him, and Ray was glad to see a more familiar face. When had his family become strangers? In the back of his mind, Ray wondered how his father would justify the return of his prodigal son? He would probably explain his injuries away as the result of an accident of some sort; have him blacklisted as not only mentally but also physically incompetent. It didn't matter anymore, anyway.
Now that he was back where his parents could keep a more immediate eye on him, they didn’t spend as much time at the hospital. While Ray was glad to finally have some peace, he felt alone in a way he hadn’t out West. No one here knew him. There would be no cards or phone calls, no visits with friends from church or work or anywhere else. He didn’t say anything about the dosage of pain medication putting him to sleep far more quickly than it should have. In the back of his mind, Ray was content to sleep away any time not spent trying to get his synapses back in gear. If he wasn’t awake, he didn’t have to deal with the emotional trauma still lurking in the background.
"Mommy?" her daughter spoke up. "Who is that?"
"That’s your uncle, Sophie."
"The one nobody will talk about?"
"Yes, honey. That’s your Uncle Ray."
"What happened to him?"
"He got hurt."
"How?"
Leah truly wished she had an answer. "I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t know."
Her attention suddenly snapped upward as an indistinct groan drifted from the bed. Breath caught, she dared not say anything. She hadn’t meant to wake him. Ray’s face contorted briefly as he fought for consciousness, dark eyes blinking deliberately before coming to rest on her.
"...Leah?" The word was dry and cracked, spoken with brows knit in confusion. With his eyes he glanced dubiously at the IV bag dangling above his head, evidently wondering if he was hallucinating.
"No, it’s really me," she assured him. "I heard what happened. I had to see if you were really all right."
His closed-lipped smile spread into a grin, the sight spoiled by the mesh of wires holding his teeth and jaws in place. Blinking rapidly, he appeared to be fighting tears, but after a couple of steady breaths managed to gain control of himself.
"Good to see ya, Sis," he told her, words remarkably distinct as only veterans of years of childhood orthodontia could pronounce them.
"How are you," she pressed. "Are you feeling all right? Are you being well cared for?"
"I can’t feel a thing," he chuckled. "They’ve got me on some pretty strong stuff. Don’t worry; they’re taking real good care of me."
"Ray, what happened?"
"About three brick walls and an I-beam."
Her boggled expression was understandable, Ray felt.
"There was a terrorist incident downtown. I got caught in the middle of it. Had half a building come down on me. The doctors say I’ll be all right, though." It wasn’t a lie, not really, but even Leah, whose job as a child had been to watch out for him when he had what his family assumed to be an epileptic seizure, could not be told the whole truth. She nodded slowly, suspecting, but saying nothing.
"Who’s this?" he asked, glancing at the little girl clinging to her mother’s skirt and staring at him in morbid fascination.
"This’s Sophie, my oldest."
The light seemed to drain from his face at this. "Your oldest..." he repeated. "Leah, I..." His voice caught. He had received an announcement, but no invitation to her wedding, had not been notified when any of her three children had been born. All contact had been almost completely cut off and he had had no way to know what had transpired in the last ten years.
"It’s okay, I know," she told him gently, feeling tears prick behind her own eyes. "It wasn’t your fault. I know you would have come if you could."
Unable to nod, he closed his eyes in assent, sighing heavily, comforted that she understood. She let him rest a moment, process the information and gather his thoughts. He knew she’d married, though her husband’s name was eluding him. They’d had cute kids at any rate, if Sophie was any indication. She looked as if she might have been six or seven, but that could have been the petite Kalahearn genes. There was a lot of Leah in her, but here and there she showed touches of another blood line- blue eyes, curly hair, skin a shade or two darker than her mother’s. Until now she’d been staring at him quietly, half-hidden behind her mother’s legs. The curiosity was still there, though the fear seemed to have left her.
"You were more handsome in my dream," she told him with the frankness only small children and octogenarians seemed to possess. Ray blinked at this, somewhat taken aback, but couldn’t help a smile.
"Sophie..." Leah admonished gently, her brow creasing briefly in what could have been either embarrassment or concern.
"But you said— "
"Not now, honey. Later."
And then it clicked. Strain as he might, that sixth sense was long gone, and any extra unseen marker Sophie might have was invisible to him. However, the mother and daughter exchange had been enough, and even if he’d manage to miss the significance of Sophie’s careless remark, the fear and pleading in Leah’s eyes told him all he needed to know.
She’d kept him safe while they were growing up; now it was his turn to return the favor.
Sign up to rate and review this story