My Last Regret

Three days later:

He was laying in one of those hospital beds that looked sort of comfy from far away, but what people don’t realize is after a while, they’re just about as comfortable as laying on a bed made of rocks for twenty minutes. It puts your back to sleep and your butt cramps up and I guess all I can say is that it really sucks. I don’t know any of this first hand though.

It was a Thursday—I think—when my mother finally decided to take me up to the hospital to see my granddad. I asked Jack to come, but he refused. He’d come up another day.

It was an hour and a half drive in the rain. The whole ride was dead silent, minus the quiet hum of the radio up front. I stared out my window and watched all the greenery and dirt-covered ground and cars pass by in one big blur of glum colour and I waited.

I waited until my mom popped her door open and stared at the side of my head in her rear-view mirror. I waited for her forced smile and her soft voice telling me that we had arrived. I waited for her to let out a deep sigh and walk around and pull my door open, causing the elbow I was propped up on for almost half an hour to fall limp and cause he to stumble out of the car and onto the concrete parking lot of the hospital.

“He’s in room 456,” the lady at the front desk told us as soon as she saw my mom walk in. “We’ll have a nurse escort you if you wish.”

“No thanks,” my mom replied.

I waited for the elevator door to open and for all the people to exit so we could step in. I waited for my mom to press the button for the fourth floor and for the number at the top of the metal keypad to light up. I waited for the elevator to lift us to the floor my granddad was on, and I waited for my mom to take the first step out.

We walked the long hallway and took a left, then maybe a right—I wasn’t really paying attention. My mom stood still in front of a plain white door with a clear plastic pocket toward the top. There was a small slip of yellow paper in the pocket that read ‘Gaskarth’ and beside the door; there were three gold plated numbers. ‘456.’

I swallowed, finding my mouth dry, and I waited for my mother to reach up and knock on the door with the knuckle of her middle finger. I waited a few seconds and then my mom pushed the handle down and popping the door open.

I waited for the dull curtain to be pulled across the metal rod that hung above the room. I swallowed again, and there he was.

His skin was pale, and his eyes were set on the small TV adjacent to his bed. There was some sort of soap opera on, and an IV was in his arm. I breathed slowly.

“Oh,” he said, turning his head. “I didn’t hear you two come in.”

I swallowed again as I saw him smile. I swallowed a few more times as he spoke to my mom about the weather. And maybe I swallowed once or twice more when he eyed me and smiled again. At me.

I paused and tried to think of a logical response. Everything was just so weird and awkward and overwhelming.

“Uh,” I coughed, my throat scratchy when I spoke.

“Damn, Isobel. Have you been neglecting him this whole time I was gone? Get the poor boy some water! Go ask one of the nurses.”

My mother left the room then and I kind of just stood there with a dopey expression on my face as I waited for him to talk again.

“Now why the hell are you ignoring me, boy? Can’t you see I’m dying?!” He laughed slightly and sat up, opening his arms for a hug.

“Sorry,” I wet my lips.

“Well, are you gonna come give your granddad a hug?” He asked.

“What?”

“A hug! You know, those things you give your boyfriend before you go off and lip lock in your room!” He said in a tone that only hinted that he was joking. “And then go on and do other things that I know neither of us wants to talk about in a situation like this.”

“You’re fucking sick,” I groaned and turned on my heel, elbowing the cup of water out of my mom’s hand as soon as she walked in.

“Where are you going, sweetie?”

“Take me home.” I said to her in a stern tone.

“Alex, you need to spend some-“

“I don’t need to do anything except go home.” I said.

“I’m not taking you home, Alex.”

“I need to see Jack.”

“You can see him later. I’m pretty sure I’m more important than your little faggy relationship right now. You can fuck around later.” My granddad said.

“Shut the fuck up.” I ground my teeth into my bottom lip.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Alexander.” He said.

“Fuck you,” I growled. “I’m going outside.”

“Yeah, go call your boyfriend and complain about how bad of a person I am. Go right ahead.” He said.

“Both of you stop it!” My mother said.

I pushed passed her and shut the door behind me.