The Journey

Chapter 22

Elisha

The taxi driver was fantastic. He got me straight to the hospital in record time, and I gave him a generous tip. Rushing through the double doors, I ran to the elevators and pressed up, counting the minutes until the doors opened and I quickly stepped inside. I just hoped I wasn't too late.

When I reached the eighth floor, I ran to my father's hospital room and opened the door. Marcie was there with our father's doctor. They both turned to me when I entered. "How is he?"

Marcie was crying already, her face wet with tears. She rushed to hug me, then said, "Eli, there's no change. He just hasn't woken up. Dr. Milton here says it's possible that he won't ever wake up and if he does, he will still be a vegetable because it's been so long."

I turned to the doctor, "isn't there any other way? I can still work two jobs. I can-"

Dr. Milton cut me off gently, "Elisha dear, you are already stressed out. Believe me, if there is another way, I would recommend we keep him on for a while longer. But you girls need to face this. He has been in a coma for two months, going three. There hasn't been any improvement in his condition. The only thing keeping him alive is this machine here. And the hospital bill is getting bigger. I cannot allow you girls to suffer like this."

"But we can't abandon him, Dr. Milton. Please, I promise we can come up with the money for the hospital. Just please, please, let him live. Give him a chance to wake up. One more month. Please," I begged brokenly.

He looked at my father, then at Marcie's tear-streaked face, then at my hopeful expression, and he sighed, "alright. One more month. After that, we have to let him go."

Marcie and I sagged with relief. She thanked him and he left. I went to sit beside our father, stroking his wrinkled face tenderly. He looked so peaceful, like he was merely sleeping. If only he would wake up when we roused him. Marcie stood behind me, "thanks for coming so fast."

"Thanks for calling me," I murmured. "What are we going to do, Mars?"

She exhaled wearily, "to tell you the truth, I was actually contemplating his advice. It would save us a lot of time and money to just give up."

I turned to her in horror, "no, Mars! This is dad we're talking about. He never let us down before. We have to try harder. I'm going to apply for a part time job at nights so I can come up with the money to foot his hospital bills until he wakes up."

"And what's going to happen if he doesn't wake up, Eli? When will this end? And if he miraculously wakes up, do you think life will still be good to him while he's basically bed-ridden and handicapped? Plus we'll have to hire full time nurses to take care of him then."

I shook my head, "but it's daddy." A tear crept down my cheek. I refused to give up on him.

Marcie squeezed my shoulder and said, "I need to go to work. I'll be back tomorrow. Can you stay until then?"

"Yes," I answered, not really knowing how I would explain my long absence in the office. But Marcie had to work or else she might get fired for missing too much time from her job.

When Marcie left, I got up to put my bag on the couch next to the bed. Looking at my watch, I saw it was already past dinner time. Hospital food sounded so unappetizing after my time with Nick.

Sighing, I thought about Nick. He was probably back now with their mother and talking things out with Newton some more. I wondered if Mrs. McAllister would be thrilled to know she would soon be a grandmother.

I stroked my father's hair tenderly, silently begging him to please please please wake up. Money could be easily found. It was my daddy I wanted.

A knock sounded on the door, and as if I had conjured him up with my longing to be with him, I saw Nick standing there, his familiar sea-green eyes staring fixedly at me. My mouth dropped open and I took a hesitant step toward him. He strode into the room and engulfed me in a tight hug, and I didn't think about how he knew where I was or what I was going through. I simply marveled about how he seemed to know exactly what I needed at the moment. His presence was more than enough.