Age Is But a Number

Sirens. Metal clanking. Ears ringing. His name.

Kevin was overwhelmed by all the sounds surrounding him, pulling him towards the land of the living, the world of consciousness – but the one thing holding him down and begging him to stay in the dark was the pain. Oh, the pain, the feeling of the life-sustaining liquid leaving his body as he lay there on . . . on what?

“Kevin!” he heard again, and the voice was closer. Was it an angel? He’s heard the voice before once in a dream; he’s heard it when he fell off his bike and needed someone to kiss the bruise away, when he broke his wrist in a skateboarding accident, and when he finished his first concert with his brothers.

“Kevin, baby,” the voice said again and her voice was closer. He struggled to open his eyes, to see the face that belonged to the soothing, warm voice. His eyelids felt heavy.

“Ma’am, please, step away -”

“But this is my son!” the woman shouted at the other woman who had spoken before her. “I’m his mother!”

“I understand that,” the other woman said. “But he needs to get inside. He needs a blood transfusion.”

Like that isn’t obvious, Kevin thought, and he was surprised to hear his own voice in his head sound so calm and snide.

“What room will he be in? And the girl?” his mother asked, assertiveness in her voice.

“Room two-thirty four. The girl and her father will be in the rooms across from him.” The other woman stopped speaking for a moment and Kevin felt his eyes open, but they started to roll and all he could see was flashing red lights, white lights in the distance, and shadows. He could recognize one shadow: his mother’s. He suddenly felt like retching.

“His wounds are reopening,” another voice, male, said, and Kevin felt himself moving forward. He also felt a more potent stinging on his torso and wondered how the pain could get worse.

Then, for the first time, he asked himself, Why am I not dead? I should be dead, shouldn’t I? Could God still want me here?

Bright lights, new smells, and new noises flooded his mind and his world started to spin. He started coughing and he tasted something metallic and balmy. He was coughing up blood.

.:-:.

“Mrs. Jonas?” a man said from behind Nick, Caitlyn, his brothers and his mom, and all of them turned around almost simultaneously. “I’m Officer Wayne.” He looked at Caitlyn. “You and I spoke on the phone. Right, Caitlyn?”

“Yes,” Caitlyn said breathlessly, relieved to see him for some reason. She noted how his red-brown hair was messy and reminded her too much of Charlotte in the morning.

“I’m going to need to talk to all of you,” he explained to all of them, and he led them inside the hospital, “about what happened. I’m trying to get all the witnesses and evidence I can get to make sure if Harold survives this he’ll get the time he deserves in prison.”

Nick nodded, and he noticed he and Joe were the only ones to do so. The rest of his family seemed to shock to do anything else but stare at Officer Wayne. He followed the cop into the elevator after he asked the woman at the front desk which floor his brother, Charlotte and Harold would be on. He pressed the floor number and stood there holding Caitlyn’s hand in crushing silence.

Until Wayne spoke again. “We would have been here earlier but we had to pull over to help the paramedics handling Harold. Even inches from death, he still exerts himself to get out. He had managed to get out of his restraints and hurt one of our paramedics. The other ambulance had to stop and help. I almost had to tazer him to stop. I’m glad I didn’t; I don’t know what that would have done to him, but my nephew, a medic, advised me not to.”

“I’m not liking your nephew too much right now,” Frankie said, surprising all of them. Nick looked at his younger brother and wondered when he became so unforgiving. Of course he couldn’t blame him because he, too, was not feeling so full of forgiveness.

“Jonathan was doing his job,” Wayne said with a smirk on his face. “Though, between you and me, son, I wanted to.”

“No one here would hate you if you did,” Nick said. “Next time, don’t hesitate.”

Wayne smirked at the teenager and Nick’s mouth twitched into a smirk in return, but when the elevator doors opened, he heard shouting and all smiles vanished. Wayne sighed and hurried out of the elevator towards the shouting. Nick looked at his girlfriend and the rest of his family and knew they were thinking the same thing.

“At least we know we’re on the right floor,” Joe said, pushing past his family to get out of the elevator, not waiting for them as he began walking down the hall. Frankie followed after, then Denise, Nick and Caitlyn.

.:-:.

Jonathan was overwhelmed with what he was seeing before him: A girl covered in blood, a gaping wound on the side of her neck, paler than death and still fighting for air. He had assessed the wound on her neck and felt the tiniest bit of air coming out of it whenever she exhaled. It was frightening how she still had a pulse and was able to breathe, though he could tell she was fighting as hard as she – and her failing heart – could. Her efforts were being wasted; she was fading fast.

He had told his team of paramedics that she needed to get that wound closed and needed a blood transfusion, though he didn’t know if it would help much. His uncle told him that she suffered from a heart disease. He could tell before his uncle told him because he saw her swollen legs, ankles and feet and heard the uneven, rapid beating of her heart when he hooked her up to the various machines. The beeping that was going in rhythm with her heart was eerie. He knew if it stopped that uncanny beeping would haunt him for the rest of his life.

But this is what he’s dreamt of doing his whole life: being a paramedic, using all his power to make sure the people in his care did not die.

He wasn’t God, though; he couldn’t stop people from dying if that’s what He had planned.

Before he could step into the other room where Harold was in a doctor came up beside him. “I’m going to start surgery on Kevin,” he said to Jonathan, putting gloves on his newly washed hands. “When you’re done, and if you can, get the family to donate blood.”

Jonathan nodded and, as the doctor went into Kevin’s room and continued prepping him for surgery, he went to the other room where Harold was kept. He found the other team of paramedics trying to get the bullets removed from his body and cleaning his wounds before he became infected. Jonathan knew, though, that even if they could clean his wounds and remove the bullets, Harold was still going to have infections. Plus, with the way he was exerting himself, his blood pressure was going to rise to dangerous levels and he was going to have a heart attack.

Just as Jonathan was telling the other team of two meds what might happen, Harold went into shock and was having a heart attack at the same time.

“John,” someone said from the doorway and he turned around to see his friend, another paramedic. “She just went into shock and is convulsing again. I need your help.”

“Like father,” he muttered, walking to the door, “like daughter.”

.:-:.

“Harold and Charlotte Reynolds and Kevin Jonas of the Jonas Brothers were found collapsed and with fatal injures just an hour ago,” the news anchor said into the camera. He was standing outside the hospital the Jonas family was currently in. “According to our inside source Harold had attacked his daughter and the musician while they were at the baseball park near the Reynolds household. Harold has been chasing his daughter since she ran away a couple months ago and did not hesitate to attack the two. He’s been charged for . . .”

“They get the news out quick,” Joe muttered before taking a sip of his second carton of juice to get some sugar into his body. He was still feeling a bit nauseous after giving blood. “Scary.”

“. . . following the death of Harold Reynolds only ten minutes after arriving at the hospital. Paramedics say he went into shock, had a heart attack, then moments later died. The mixture of gunshot wounds, stab wounds, and over-exerting himself is said to be the cause of death.”

“Usually that’s what happens when a man is evil enough,” Joe commented again. “They get what they deserve.”

“It’s not your place to say what a man truly deserves or not,” his mother replied. He gave her a look. “Though the man was horrible.”

Joe huffed, highly believing that “horrible” was hardly the word used to describe Harold Reynolds. He wouldn’t use such words in front of his mother or his younger brothers, but he knew they knew he was thinking them.

He watched as Nick walked down the hall with a cafeteria tray full of pastries, fruit, and juices. He sat down, set the tray full of food and drinks down on the chair between him and Caitlyn, and pinched his temples. He looked slightly green.

“You nauseous too?” Joe asked, looking at the cool color gauze wrapped around Nick’s inside elbow. “I didn’t know they had that color green.” He lifted up his arm to show his brother his neon green gauze wrapped around his arm. “I would have gotten that color too. It’s Kevin’s favorite.” He pointed to the red gauze wrapped around the green. “I got red for Charlotte’s hair since I don’t know her favorite color. Was it pink?”

“That’s Caitlyn’s,” Nick replied, leaving his eyes closed as he took a bite of an apple. “Who should be coming up soon. She was almost done when I left to get the food.”

“I better go, then,” Denise said, lifting herself up off her chair. “They might be ready for me.” She looked over at Frankie. “Frankie, listen to your brothers.”

Joe looked over at his youngest brother and saw a look on his scared face that said he would definitely not misbehave now. He had been like that once they left the house. The kid was growing up fast tonight.

He watched his mom walk away and looked at Nick. “You just missed the news. They already announced Harold’s death.”

Nick opened one eye and looked at the T.V. screen hanging on the wall diagonally across from them. “Anything about Charlie?”

Joe shrugged, though he knew Nick wouldn’t see it. “Missed it if they did.”

“The news gets out too fast,” Nick muttered, opening a juice carton. “Can’t they have any respect? Wait until tomorrow at the earliest to let it out?”

“People love a good horror story,” Joe mumbled, watching the news anchor interviewing a paramedic named Jonathan who says he transported Harold, Kevin and Charlotte to the hospital.

He and his brother sat in silent for a few moments, caught up in their thoughts. Joe was worrying and thinking about so many things: Kevin, wondering if the surgery would be able to save him; his mother, wondering if she would handle much more of this; Frankie, if he was going to be scarred for life or if he would come out more mature and stronger; Nick, if he was going to go into diabetic shock with the way he looked: pale, sweaty, and shaking slightly; Caitlyn, her mom, his dad, life, justice, God. . . .

Life can change so quickly, Joe thought. He knew that though he hasn’t experienced a change like this. Mostly it has been good changes, like living out his dream and having so many opportunities because of his dream come true. Success in music, movies, television shows . . . He never really thought that he could find himself watching someone’s life slip away in almost an instant and seeing the result of rage and anger and hatred. He’s gotten very angry before but never would he even think about hurting someone out of his anger nor would he think about hurting another human to get revenge. He questioned the moralities of others and wondered how a mind can be so twisted to violence that they would fight so hard to harm others the way Harold had done.

“Joe,” Caitlyn said, snapping him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized she and her mother had come back from donating blood. “Sky blue.”

“What?” he asked.

“Sky blue. It’s Charlotte’s favorite color.”

“Oh,” he said, and then nodded at her. He saw light blue gauze wrapped around her elbow.

He watched as she looked up at Nick, a look of love and fear in her eyes. Nick looked down at her with the same expression before wrapping his arm around her shoulders and letting her lean into him. Kimiko let them cuddle and just stared out the window. Joe looked back at his brother and his new girlfriend as they sat silently on the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Joe was happy for Nick and Caitlyn. Even amongst the horrible events of the day, Joe was glad to see that there was still some joy and love left in the world.