Page 19 of The Almost One

I nod, knowing damn well that he’s too beat for this kind of conversation. “Si, capisco.”

“Bene, bene.Now, let me sl—” As his eyes roll to the back of his head, all fucking Hell breaks loose in the room.

It starts with the beeping of the machine, followed by an ominous voice repeating “Code Blue” over and over again. From that moment on, people start running into his room, pushing me aside as they move around like they’ve done this a million times. I’m asked to wait outside and I’m too shocked to even argue, walking backwards with my eyes fixed on my father’s limp body.

What the fuck is happening? He was just cracking jokes and telling my mother he loved her. One doctor is doing CPR, her entire body pressing on his chest over and over again, while another is heating up the paddles.

“Two hundred.”

“Two hundred.”

“Clear.”

Suddenly, everyone’s hands are in the air as the doctor places the paddles right where his chest was open wide mere hours ago.

“No pulse.”

“Give me three hundred.”

“Three hundred.”

“Clear.”

Again with the raised hands, but nothing has changed. His body is still limp, his eyes closed. His skin a pasty color that does not belong to our family.

“Again.”

“Three hundred.”

“Clear.”

The sound of the shock isn’t nearly as deafening as the sound of Lina’s gasp. I don’t dare look behind me. I can’t face my mother, my sister. Enzo. Fuck, where’s River?

“Asystole.”

No. This can’t be right. The long, uninterrupted beep that accompanies the word throws me.

Did I say Lina’s gasp was deafening? Fuck, how I was wrong.

The sound of my father flatlining is a memory I’ll never get over.

“Time of death,”—the doctor looks at her watch, then at my father’s body—“five fifty-three a.m.”

Worse than the flatline is my mother’s wail, her deep, wrenching pain that paralyzes everyone in a fifty-foot radius.

Enzo holds Lina as her knees give out and I rush to my mother as she lets herself fall to the ground.

“Marco?” I lift my head to see my beautiful wife carrying three coffees, confusion etched across her features.

The doctors stand before us, tired and resigned. “We’re sorry for your loss.”

“No. Nooooo. He was fine.Amore mio, wake up. He was fine. Marco, please, he’s just sleeping.” I hold my mother as close as I can to my chest, watching as River places the cups on the nearest table and rushes over to the other side of me. We don’t say anything, there are absolutely no words that could possibly soothe my mother right now. Not a single one. I know, because I can’t imagine anything soothing the deep ache inside my chest.

Except River.

She looks up at me like she knows I’m seeking out her healing touch. Her free hand goes to my cheek, my eyes close for the briefest of moments and I feel her power seep into me, giving me enough strength to take care of my family.

Somewhere in the commotion, I hear Enzo demand the names of everyone who was in the room and everything that was administered to my dad. It’s our protocol, our way to make sure this wasn’t a hit.

---