Page 8 of Ghost of Christmas Future
Bertha got out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Jude. “You’re not dead, Jude. The doctors have put you in a coma tohelp your brain heal. That’s why you’re on the respirator too, so all of your energy can go toward healing.”
Jude thought over what Bertha was telling him. If he truly was dead, he doubted very much that heaven was a hospital intensive care unit. As he pondered his fate, a nurse walked into the room. She checked two of the machines, typed notes into the laptop she carried, and walked back out. “I don’t like his chances,” the nurse said to a doctor Jude had never seen before.
“Monitor his EEG results, and if anything changes…” The doctor and nurse stepped away from the door.
Jude could no longer hear what they were saying. “Sounds like I’m a goner.” He turned and stared down at his broken body. His left arm was in a cast. His face, chest and arms were covered in deep purple bruises. A tube snaked its way out from under the covers, ending in a bag filled with a dark yellow liquid. He shut his eyes, not wanting to see what other horrors his body had been subjected too. “Leave me in peace, Bertha. Just let me die. I don’t want to be a vegetable. I don’t want to spend my life in a wheelchair, unable to move or speak.” Or make love to his husband. Or hug his kids.
Bertha sighed. “Byrne, pity party of one.” Bertha’s hands sat on her hips and unless Jude missed his guess, he was about to get his ass handed to him.
“That nurse just said she didn’t like my chances. You heard her.”
“Yeah, I heard her,” Bertha agreed, “but the Jude I know would have told her to go get fucked. The question is, what isthisJude gonna do?”
Jude took a moment to assess himself. Every single part of his body hurt. He could feel the breathing tube down his throat and wished he could yank it out. Same went for the catheter,although he’d do a more gentle job of that. His anger was great, but it hadn’t changed anything. “Bertha, I can’t move my fingers or toes. I can’t breathe on my own. What the hell kind of life would I live if I woke up from this?” Jude was tired. All he wanted was for Bertha to leave, so he could be alone with his happy memories of Cope and the kids.
“I’ll tell you what kind of life itwon’tbe, mister.” Bertha walked across the room. “Take my hand.”
“Do I look like Ebenezer Scrooge? Because you sure as shit aren’t Jacob Marley.” Jude rolled his eyes.
Bertha grabbed his hand and gave it a yank. Jude felt himself teeter for a moment. He tried to catch his balance, but Bertha was too strong. Jude felt himself tumble. Then fall. The out of body sensation made him feel like he was going to throw up. Could ghosts throw up? Was Jude a ghost? Or was he a disembodied spirit?
Jude had no answers. Maybe if he listened more and talked less, he’d find a way to come back to his husband and family. He’d do anything for Cope, Wolf, and Lizbet.
6
Cope
Cope sat beside Jude’s hospital bed. His eyes were on the monitor mounted above Jude. His heartbeat blipped across the screen, varying from eighty-eight to numbers in the low nineties. The nurses had explained that number was right where it needed to be.
Beneath Jude’s heart rate was his EEG, measuring brain activity. Bright pink lines that looked like Lizbet’s scribbles extended from one side of the monitor to the other. Cope had no idea what they meant but knew all too well what would happen if those mountainous waves flatlined.
Hours had passed since Jude was rushed to the hospital. Cope had spent two hours sitting in the suffocating waiting room beside the ER. The doctor came to speak to him after the MRI was finished. She explained that Jude’s brain had begun to swell. He’d been started on medications to reduce the intracranial pressure. If the medication didn’t bring down the swelling sufficiently, then Jude would need a craniotomy. He’d tuned out when the doctor started explaining how they’d remove a portion of Jude’s skull.
He'd been allowed into Jude’s ICU room once the breathing tube had been put in. Thankfully, Ronan and Fitz had come with him. When Cope felt his legs start to buckle, Ronan had caught him and Fitz helped get him into a chair. He’d been so embarrassed that when Jude needed him most, he’d nearly collapsed like a southern belle whose corset was laced too tight.
Later, they’d all watched, stunned, as nurses brought in cooling blankets and ice packs to bring down Jude’s body temperature. When Cope had picked up his husband’s hand, it had felt likea block of ice. Cold as the grave. Jude’s hand felt just like his mother’s had just before the men at the funeral home shut her coffin for the final time.
“The kids are on the way,” Ronan said, poking his head back into Jude’s room.
Cope buried his head into his hands. He felt Ronan take the seat beside him. “I’m still not sure they should see Jude like this.”
“You weren’t in Salem when I was shot.” Pulling down his shirt collar, Ronan revealed three puckered scars on his chest. “The doctors had put me into an induced coma, just like they did with Jude. I want you to know that I could hear everything people said. Ten, the doctors, Fitz, Carson, and Truman.”
“I appreciate that, Ronan, I really do,” Cope said, intentionally interrupting. He’d been told multiple times by different people that when he sat in Jude’s room, he should talk to his husband, just like he’d do at home. The last thing he wanted was for Ronan to repeat the same advice.
“Being able to hearwasn’tmy point.” Ronan offered Cope a crooked smile. “I don’t understand how he did it and I’m not sure Tennyson could explain it to me properly, but when I was out cold, he was somehow able to join me in my coma.”
“He, what?” Cope asked. He’d never heard this story before and after seven years in Salem he’d heard all of Ronan’s tales so often that he could tell them himself.
“Tennyson showed up, bold as brass, in the middle of my coma. I was able to speak to him and understand what he was telling me. Of course, what he was telling me was how he was going to kick my ass from here to Tallahassee if I didn’t wake the hell up.” Ronan grinned.
“That sounds like Tennyson, but what does that have to do with the kids coming to see Jude and me being against it?”
“Ten has tried several times already and he can’t reach Jude.” Ronan sighed, sounding as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “We called Jude’s grandfather not only to tell him what happened, but to ask if there was any way to get past the spell that Running Eagle had placed over Jude when he was a baby. He said he would speak to some of the elders and let us know in the morning. Running Eagle is flying in tonight. Jace and Kaye are going to pick him up from the airport. He’ll stay at Kaye’s house. The kids will go home with Ten.”
“That’s great, Ronan, but I still don’t understand what this has to do with the kids.” Cope stopped, his mind managing to slow itself long enough to figure out what was going on. “Everly. You think Everly can reach Jude?”
“We hope so. She’s never tried anything like this before and with Running Eagle’s protection charm still in place it might be a long shot, but with your permission, I’d like to see her try.”
