Come To Jesus

Come To Jesus

How do you wake up from a nightmare into another nightmare? My phone was buzzing on the bedside table. Susan’s face was staring at me accusingly. “Fuck that,” I think. I’m disoriented. I’m in a disheveled Airstream trailer. It’s early in the morning, beams of sun are coming through the blinds and lighting Mary’s face with a golden glow.

The phone begins buzzing again. Nope.

Mary opens her eyes and smiles. She puts her hand right on my cock. Oh yes, flashbacks of a rawkus night and I’m stiff in seconds.

The phone buzzes with a text. I can see the screen out of the corner of my eye as I’m heading down to those dark bushy nether regions. “911!”

“Fuck!” I sit up and grab my phone.

“WTF?” I text back.

“Claire has fallen. We’re headed to the ER.”

+++

I arrive and Claire’s face is covered in a bloody white towel filled with ice. She’s ghostly white. Tears in her eyes as she tries to smile for me.

“It’s okay, honey. I’m here.”

“The fucking insurance won’t go through,” Susan says. “They won’t touch her until we get the authorization.”

“Holy shit. Get them in here. They can put it on my credit card.”

“Jason, you promised! No more credit.”

“What the fuck do you care? Seriously, we’re going to have this discussion?”

I grab Claire’s hand and smile at her. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.” I wasn’t sure that I was going to be okay. But I put my dad-face on.

“Keep your voice down,” Susan says. “You can’t go on spending cash we don’t have!”

“We? We? Fuck. Just have them put it on the damn card, here!” I give her my AMEX. “The limit is fine. Just get the damn doctor in here.”

Alone with Claire for the first time, I can’t stop the tears.

“You’re going to be okay, sweetheart.” I hold both her hands in mine. “The doctor is coming. Everything will be okay. I promise.”

+++

Back in Claire’s room, the only light is from a unicorn nightlight beside the bed. Claire is sleeping. Both parents are sitting in tiny kid chairs beside the bed. There hands are both touching Claire.

“I can’t do this,” I say.

“Jason, this is not about us.”

“I’m… This is not what I want. I’m…” I move my hand closer to hers.

“It’s not just about you.”

“Oh we’re going all ‘therapy’ on it, are we? Jesus Christ!”

“Keep your voice down.”

“I want to stay here. In our house. As a family. I can’t deal with this alone. We need to stay together.”

“It’s too late for that,” Susan says.

“Why?” I’m starting to feel panic again. I take Susan’s hand. “Why is it ever too late? What does that mean?”

“I mean, I’m so tired…”

“You don’t love me, yeah yeah, I get it. It’s not about us, you’re right.” I pause for a moment. “It’s about her.”

“That’s unfair,” she says. Pulling her hand away from mine.

I stand up and open my arms like a preacher, “None of this is fair. Fuck.”

“She’s barely asleep, Jason! Please!”

“I won’t survive this.”

“You’ll be fine, Jason. You always seem to bounce back.”

“This is the end of everything. There’s no bounce. Just a splat. My parachute won’t open.”

“Jason, this is not some scene you’re writing. This is our life, now.”

“You have no idea. I can’t do it. I can’t.”

“Jason, please.”

“Can I sleep here tonight, with the kids?”

“That’s not a good idea.”

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