I Swear That She's the One

I drove away from the drop off zone of the airport as soon as John walked through the automatic doors. Jackson had been in the hospital for five days, with signs of improvement, and John decided it would be okay for him to go back and join the tour. I had decided to stay behind in Phoenix, and the band assured me that they would just have Cameron play bass for the rest of the tour.

I drove through the city with The Format’s ‘Interventions and Lullabies’ lightly playing, and groaned as I got stuck in morning rush-hour traffic. I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel, and glanced at the clock every few minutes. By the time I had made it to the exit for the hospital, there was only five minutes until visiting hours began, so I decided to head there instead of going home.

Since Jackson had been in the hospital, I had been with him everyday. I got there almost as soon as visiting hours started, and left when the nurses had to kick me out. My parents would come on their extended lunch breaks, and that’s when I would leave the room and get lunch, or smoke. I always made sure that Jackson wasn’t alone.

As I approached the Nurse Station in the ICU, I saw an unfamiliar face. Normally, an older lady named Peggy was behind the desk, and let me go right though. Today, however, a middle-aged woman with a sour look on her face was sat behind the desk. I nervously approached her, and her head snapped in my direction, as I reached the small desk.

“Can I help you?” she said before turning back to the computer and typing away.

“I’m here to see Jackson Gomez,” I said with my forearms on the desk.

“We don’t have a patient by that name, sir,” she said eyeing me.

“What are you talking about? I was just here last night visiting him,” I said with a slight panic, “Can you double check your records?”

She sighed, almost in an agitated way, and typed something onto the computer. I nervously nibbled on my lower lip as she scanned over the information on the screen.

“It appears that he was moved to the children’s wing sometime this morning,” she said looking up, “Go up to the fourth floor, and you’ll be right by the nurses station.”

“Thank you,” I said before walking back to the elevator and waiting patiently.

The ride was short, and I walked up to the nurse’s station where a younger looking girl sat. She looked up as the elevators doors dinged open, and sent me a warm smile. I smiled back, and made my way up to the small counter.

“Can you tell me what room Jackson Gomez is in please?” I asked as she pulled a stethoscope around her neck.

“Are you Stephen Gomez?” she asked glancing at a note on the desk.

“Uh, yeah, I am,” I said confused as to how she knew my name.

“Your parents called to put you on the authorized list,” she said noticing my confusion, “My name’s Callie Davenport, I’m Jackson’s main nurse. I need to take his vitals, so you can just follow me back to his room.”

“Oh, thank you,” I said shoving my hands into my pocket and waiting for her to get out from behind the desk.

As we walked through the doors to the wing, I took in the young girls appearance. She was short, around 5’3”, and had dark hair cut into an a-line. She had on pink scrub pants, with a cartoon printed white top to match.

Jackson’s new room was bright, and decorated more for children. I sat in the plastic chair that was near his bed, and watched as Callie took his vitals and jotted things down.

“So are you his older brother?” she asked glancing up at me.

“Yeah, one of them,” I said with a nod.

“Most older brothers wouldn’t be here right at the beginning of visiting hours for their little brother,” she said with a smile.

“He’s my baby brother, I’ll always be here for him,” I said shrugging.

“Well that’s sweet,” she said walking towards the door, “I’ll be back in an hour to re-check his vitals. If there are any changes, such as him waking up or making movement, hit the nurse call button on the side of his bed.”

I nodded, muttering a small thanks, before she exited the room, and scooted closer to his bed. His bruises were starting to fade, but they left an ugly yellow tint throughout his lightly tanned skin. The bandage around his head had been removed, and the stitches that ran across his forehead were now visible.

I sat with his hand clutched in mine, and only left his side when John called to inform me he had landed in Ohio. I told him about Jackson’s move to the children’s wing, and he made me promise that I would call him if there were any change in his condition.

“Have you heard from John yet Stephen?” my mom asked as she entered the room around 1:30.

“He called about 20 minutes ago. He landed in Ohio safely,” I said as she walked over to me.

“You being here for him everyday will mean a lot to him when he wake up,” she said after a few seconds of silence, “Especially since you’re missing tour. He knows how much the band means to you.”

“I know he’d do the same for me,” I said standing up and stretching, “I’m going to get lunch. Do you want me to bring you anything up?”

“Just an iced tea,” she said with a smile and taking my spot in the plastic chair.

I nodded, and left the room, walking down the quiet hallways of the hospital. I decided to take the stairs, not feeling like waiting the elevator, and twisted down the bright staircase. Most people were clearing out of the cafeteria, since the lunch rush was nearing its end, so the line for food was short.

I grabbed a tray and placed a salad on it, since it was the only thing without meat, as well as a coke and iced tea before walking to the register to pay. After I had paid, I found a seat near the windows and mindlessly chewed on the lettuce I had doused in ranch dressing.

“Can I sit here?” I heard a voice ask causing me to look away from the window.

“Yeah, sure,” I said motioning for Callie to sit down.

She smiled, and set her bowl of fruit down, before sliding the chair out and sitting down. She blew her bangs out of her face while she peeled her orange, and I went back to munching on my salad. I kept my eyes mainly downcast, and only glanced up when Callie said something.

“It’s gets easier,” she said catching my eyes, “The first week always seems the longest.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said dropping my fork.

“I do too,” she said sliding a piece of orange into her mouth, “He’s doing great though. They want to remove his breathing tube tomorrow since he’s showing signs of breathing on his own. His brain wave activity is also up.”

I let out a small sigh of relief and smiled as a form of thanks, before we went back to silently eating. We made small talk, mostly about our jobs, and were interrupted by her beeper going off.

“It’s time for me to go check on Jackson again,” she said gathering her trash, “Thanks for letting me sit with you.”

“Thanks for helping me keep my head up,” I said smiling and gathering my trash as well, “I’m glad they have you as Jackson’s nurse. He deserves a nice person to look after him.”

“Just doing my job,” she said as we threw our stuff away, “He’s lucky to have a brother like you, ya know? So many kids come in and out, and their older siblings rarely have time to stop by. Let alone stay a whole day.”

“There will always be time for another tour, but I can’t make up lost time with Jackson,” I said as we stepped into the elevator, “I could’ve easily flown out with John this morning, knowing Jackson was improving, but I couldn’t do it.

“The band will be there when he gets out of here. But if something were to happen to him while I wasn’t here, knowing I could’ve been, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

She gave me a warm smile, and a soft pat on the back as we reached the fourth floor. We walked to Jackson’s room, where my mom was still sat, and I watched as his vitals were taken.

“Thanks, Stephen,” my mom said as I passed her his iced tea, “I have to get back to work. I’ll see you at home for dinner.”

“Okay mom, love you,” I said as she hugged me and kissed my cheek.

“I love you too,” she said before standing up and picking up her purse.

I took her spot, and watched as Callie diligently wrote down all of his vitals.

“He can hear you if you talk to him,” she said as she placed his chart back in its holder, “Just a thought.”

She smiled as she pulled the door behind her almost fully closed. I thought about what she said, and took his hand in mine once again, telling Jackson anything that came to mind.