Page 101 of Poetry By Dead Men
Whatever medicine she puts into my IV is cold, but its calming effect is immediate.
"I'll be right here," Molly says as my eyelids grow heavy. "I won't leave you."
But I wouldn't know if she did. The world fades until there's nothing but darkness, and I let it cover me like a blanket until there is nothing at all.
NOW
September 2024: Charleston, SC
If coming back is hopeless
Maybe the saint of causes lost
Can turn the senseless suffering into something true
Because this life, it isn’t fair
So I’m asking, are you there?
Are you listening in Heaven
Dear Saint Jude?
—An excerpt from "St. Jude," written and performed by Robert Beckett
“She’s going to be okay.”
It takes me a second to place the voice in my pain medicine and sleep haze. It’s Johnny, but I’ve never heard him sound like this. So broken and small and vulnerable. I crack open my eyes, trying to keep still so I don’t interrupt their conversation.
“Not if Bobby doesn’t make it through this,” Molly says, her voice just as tiny and broken. “She won’t survive losing him a second time. You didn’t see her when they broke up. It took years before she was even a shell of herself again.”
Johnny’s head has been resting in his hands, but he looks up at Molly’s words. “Are you joking? Bobbyneverrecovered. I haven’t seen him anywhere near happy until the last couple of months. If she’d justanswered the damn phone. Ifyou’djust answered the damn phone, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“I’m not going to have this argument with you again,” Molly rubs her forehead, sighing.
Again? Have they had this conversation before?
I wonder if I’m still sleeping. If maybe this is a dream, because as far as I know, Johnny and Molly have always just been casual acquaintances.
Johnny runs a hand down his face, collapsing backward in the chair. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just—” he presses his lips together, but his expression is hidden in the darkness. “What’s the point of it all? Life is so senseless and cruel.”
Molly stays silent. I know she’s thinking of Michael, and I wish I could get up and go to her, wrap her in my arms and make sure she knows she’s not alone. I hear her sniffle, and I almost speak up, but I stop when Johnny kneels in front of her and does what I wish I could as he pulls her into a tight hug. His hand smoothes her hair as she starts to sob, and tears gather in my own eyes, but still, I don’t move. Whatever this is, they need it.
“I’m sorry. I should be the one comforting you. What you’ve been through is so much worse—”
“Stop that,” he interrupts her. “There’s noworsewhen it comes to grief. Losing someone changes you. It doesn’t matter who it is.”
Molly nods into his shoulder. “I still think about him every day. And when I got the call that Beth was in the hospital…”
“Shhhh,” Johnny soothes. “They’re both going to be okay.”
“Do you really think so? That Bobby can survive this?” Molly pulls back, searching Johnny’s eyes, and the moment is so intimate, I have to look away.
The door to my room cracks open, my CNA Hannah knocking gently as she pulls the blood pressure machine in. “Sorry,” she whispers. “It’s time for vitals, then I’ll let you get back to sleep.”
Molly narrows her eyes at me as I pretend to wake up, yawning exaggeratedly and feigning confusion. “What? What time is it?” I ask,continuing to play dumb, but Molly’s guarded posture tells me I’m not fooling her.
“A little past midnight,” Hannah says, wrapping the cuff snugly around my bicep. “I’ll be out of your hair in just a moment, promise.”
