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The Journey to Goodbye

Short Story

By Shane LaingPublished 6 years ago 13 min read
1

The sun set against the horizon, the cold should have begun to set in. Not this day. The air kept its warmth, Frank Moses watched the sun fall. Comfortably sat in his rocking chair, back and forth, he rocked. It was something of relaxation for him, utter silence tranquilized his surroundings. If not working or caring for his wife, Frank found his chair the one place to be. He could admire nature, their house sat in the center of a wide-spread field that they owned, three acres of green grass.

Frank worked as an engineer and massively enjoyed his job, he was good at it; one of the best in the business. He married his wife Vivian at the ripe age of nineteen, they were lovers at first sight, even though he never believed in all that baloney. His family and job became everything to him, they brought a child into the world, Peter. He was just as intelligent as his father; A+ grades in school. The boy was considered a genius on all fronts.

On a Tuesday morning, Frank awoke in the early hours. Squandering for a glass of milk. Up until he realized that Peter had not yet returned from his night out with the lads. He attempted to contact his son via calls and texts—nothing. He began to worry and rightfully so, they had endured months of hospital visits with Vivian falling ill. She developed lung cancer and the doctors feared that she would not make it. Yet she fought through it all and came out on top, a brave and strong woman she certainly was. The lung which had the cancerous tissue attached to it and growing fast was removed successfully.

He began contacting some of Peter’s friends, yet none were answering their phone. Becoming increasingly frustrated, he began to give up hope that anyone was going to answer their mobile. Then he attempted to ring Josh, Peter’s best friend. It rang for several seconds; a voice came through and Frank was glad that someone actually answered. Crying on the other end instilled fear into Frank’s mind.

“Josh, is Peter with you?” He asked in a mild manner, trying to remain calm. Vivian wandered down the stairs, she had been awoken by the movement below.

“He… You need to… get to the hospital. St James Hospital. He is… in a bad way. I’m so sorry. He was hit by a car,” Josh replied, struggling to tell his best friend’s father that his son is in a seriously fatal condition.

“No, not Peter. I’m… we’re on our way,” Frank mumbled. Noticing his wife stood against the door frame of the kitchen, tears already forming. “What’s happened to our Peter, what happened to him?” she pleaded, struggling to deal with what was happening. She couldn’t handle something so terrible, it was only a month since she had to deal with her sister’s passing. Now this.

“He was involved in a car accident.” He held his tears back, he needed to be strong for his wife. It was an hour’s drive to the hospital, that was one of the cons of living seclusively. Yet you never expect to have to go to the hospital often.

They both rushed up the stairs, throwing on whatever clothes they could find. The rain tumbled down from the skies outside. Back down they raced, grabbing the keys out of the small bowl beside the front door.

Their car, an Audi A6, was fast enough to get them to the hospital within thirty-five minutes. Frank didn’t know whether he wanted to take that chance, the roads around the country were dangerous at the best of times, let alone in the rain. He knew he had to get to the hospital as quickly as he could, so he started the engine, thrust the gear into first and the wheels spun. Flicking the gravel upon the ground up at the living room windows.

Sixty miles per hour, seventy, ninety. He was in a thirty zone and doing three times the speed. He could care less; his son was more important than a speeding ticket. His speed started descending, traffic was up ahead. “No, not tonight. Come on!” he screamed. Knowing that it could delay them drastically. Vivian looked physically drained, since the cancer, she had good days, yet there are days where she’s forced to remain bed bound for the day. Her eyes watched the passing tree’s until they came to a halt and she focused on just one tree. Its branches broken, cracked. This thing had seen some terrible weather and had the scars to prove it.

Tapping at the steering wheel. Frank had become anxious, there was a chance that this was the last time they would see and talk to their son. Yet the traffic did not move, not even an inch. The cars ahead began moving again, he felt relieved. Readying his foot at the pedal, he watched for oncoming vehicles on the opposite side of the road. None.

He sped down the opposite side, veering to the right and to the left, a car was headed towards him. Vivian watched on in awe, completely stunned at her husband’s actions. No opening to his left, the car grew closer. A gap emerged, big enough for his car. He turned in and they were safe again.

“Don’t do that again. I want to make it to the hospital,” Vivian grumbled. He knew that what he did was not the best thing to do and extremely dangerous, he had learned his lesson. He sat patiently waiting for the cars ahead to speed up, they were in no hurry. Speed was not the best option in these circumstances.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. It was inexcusable,” he apologized.

The junction for the motorway came closer, Frank pulled off. Knowing a direct route to the hospital was linked to the motorway. A thirty-minute drive, he would usually stick to the back roads, less traffic. That wasn’t the case. The motorway was clear, he knew where he would have to turn off. So, he drove and was hitting one hundred and twenty miles per hour. He changed lanes regularly, attempting to stay in the fast lane the longest.

The turnoff for the hospital revealed itself, Frank indicated off the motorway. His speed now sat at a steady fifty, slowing down, knowing that he was closer. He noticed the sign for St James Hospital, two miles ahead. They could see it in the distance, its bold blue, metallic sign, embroidered upon the top of the big red brick building. It was a pretty hospital, it’s staff phenomenal. Vivian couldn’t thank them enough for what they did for her.

The car park to the hospital seemed emptier than usual, whenever they visited before, it was a pain to find a parking space. There were plenty to choose from on this specific day though. Frank found a space, reversed in and parked, switching the car engine off. It hummed lightly, the cylinders coming to a slow halt.

He swung his door open, slamming it shut after stepping out. He rushed round to assist Vivian from the car, she could walk. Yet since everything happened to her, he helped in every way possible. She can easily become short of breath and he always ensured that he was there as support.

The sliding doors opened slowly, both of them approached the reception desk. “Our son, Peter Moses is here. He was hit by a car,” Frank said.

“Peter, oh yes. He is on the second floor, intensive care unit 2B,” the receptionist replied in a happy and helpful manner.

“Thank you.” Frank exhaled, rushing towards the elevator. Vivian holding onto him, clutching his hand tightly. The doors opened, even the elevator was empty. They entered and pushed the button for the second floor, after several presses of the button. The doors closed.

Out of the elevator, they paced forward, eyes wandering in search of unit 2B, it wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Vivian noticed that there was a room right at the end of the hall, to the right. “Maybe that is the room.”

They pressed on and she was correct, a large window gave them visual confirmation that it was the correct room. Their son lay unconscious in the hospital bed, wires attached to him, various drips being fed into his veins. His head was in a bad way, he had clearly been hit with force.

Peter’s head was cracked open, a gaping wound revealed that. It was not a sight for the faint-hearted. Vivian struggled to believe that it was her son lying there. Their family had endured so much within the past year, couldn’t something joyful come their way.

They entered the room, Josh was the only one there. Everyone else must have left or not gone to the hospital. Josh looked at the door, tears drowning his face. “I’m so sorry, the car came out of nowhere. We didn’t know what was happening until it was over. I… just. I can’t believe it.”

Frank looked over at his son, no words. He felt his heart tearing open, ripping to shreds. Why his son, he was going to be the next Einstein. Even the professors at his University said that. He had been studying Psychology and studied Biology. Many called him the next great mind of this generation. Vivian broke down as she took a seat beside Peter’s bed. Resting her head beside him, unable to stop the sadness escaping her eyes. She sobbed.

A parent should never have to endure pain like this, nor should they see the demise of the child or children. Everyone envisions growing old happily and just passing away at a ripe old age during your sleep. That is what Frank and Vivian always pictured, they had always lived a happy life, yet misery seemed to have taken hold on them over the past year. Josh stood, knowing he needed to allow them time to see their son.

“I’m going to get a coffee; did you want one?” he asked gracefully and respectably, he had the utmost respect for the both of them. They had been like second parents to him.

No, thank you, son. Thanks for offering though,” Frank replied. Still lost in awe of current circumstances. Josh left the room, leaving parents and son together. Frank sat down opposite his wife, both clutching their son’s hands.

“I know you can hear me, I can’t believe this has happened to you. We are here and won’t leave your side. We need you to get through this Peter, you are strong and have so much to look forward to. Fight this and come back to us,” Vivian cried.

Doctor Lechin entered, Peter's notes in hand. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Moses, my name is Doctor Lechin. I’m the senior doctor and am currently caring for your son.” Lechin had been working as a doctor for nearly nineteen years.

“What is his condition, is it stable?” Frank queried.

“I’m afraid to say this, but in his current state. No. I’m sorry. Your son may have developed an internal bleed on the brain, we have managed to slow the bleeding. In my professional opinion, I would say he has maybe two hours at the max. His spleen, kidneys, and lungs have been sufficiently damaged. We tried to subside the damage, yet the bleeding on the brain had already determined his fate upon arrival. The speed the car was going when it hit him was considerably much faster than the limit in the city. Both of his legs were broken upon impact. He didn’t have much chance of survival, he is lucky enough to have survived thus far. I am terribly sorry that I could not provide better news. I really am so sorry.”

Frank and Vivian suddenly felt like their lives had just been swallowed into a dark and cold abyss. That was not the news they wanted to hear, that any parent would want to hear. “Thank you, doctor,” Frank said, a tear strolling down his cheek. His son had mere hours left and could do nothing to make the most of them. They both sat beside their dying son, feeling helpless. Frank smiled at Vivian, followed by a laugh. She became unnerved by his behavior.

“What is so funny?” She moaned.

“Do you remember the holiday in Disney, the second time around? When Peter was soo excited to meet Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck. Then when they were ahead of us and we ran over, he was soo scared saying that they were bigger than they looked on TV. He really didn’t want to walk over, yet we managed to persuade him. Then when Mickey held his hand out, Peter made a run for it. Screaming and saying that it’s better to just watch them on television.” He giggled as he remembered the fond memory.

Vivian recalled that memory, vividly. She laughed. “Yes, yes I do remember that. We couldn’t stop laughing, he wanted to go home after that.” They both let out giggles.

“He is probably listening and laughing to himself in there,” Frank joked. The door to the unit opened, Felicity, Peter’s girlfriend entered. Her hand held over her mouth, she uttered a few words before breaking down in tears. "No… no. Peter."

Frank comforted her, assisting her to the seat he was sat in. “Sit down love, we need to relish the time we have left.” She held Peter’s hand, kissing it gently. Vivian watched on, amazed at the love the girl ahead felt for her son. She didn’t know what to say, not without following on with a bundle of tears. “He would be glad that you’re here,” Vivian said.

The three of them smiled, Peter would be happy that they were all together. Frank and Vivian hadn’t always seen eye to eye with Felicity. After an incident involving another man, which even though proved to be a rumor, they didn’t speak half as much as they probably should, mainly because of the arguments it caused.

“I need to tell you both something,” Felicity cried. The parents became overwhelmed with concern, what could she possibly want to tell them.

“What is it dear?” Vivian asked.

“We were going to tell you together on Saturday, we wanted to surprise you. I’m… I’m pregnant.” Frank found the joy he had been waiting for, something joyful was bound to come from such a disaster of a year. He hugged her, tears strolled down his face. Not usually an emotional man.

“I can’t believe it, I’m going to be a grandad.” He looked to his son. “You did good boy, you did good.”

Vivian smiled brightly. “Oh my god, I wasn’t expecting that. Our son was going to be a father.” Felicity cried at the words of happiness and joy. “He was and he would have been a great one too.” They began smiling and filling the room with happiness, even at a time of sorrow.

An hour passed. The three of them laughed and joked about memories they have had with such a great and inspiring person. Peter’s heart began to slow. Frank swung the door open and called for help, his son went into cardiac arrest.

A nurse hit the button to alert the crash team, who came rushing into the room. One of the nurses escorted Frank, Vivian, and Felicity out of the room. Josh came rushing back, after sitting outside, contemplating the good times he had with his best friend and what he was going to do next.

Chest compressions and a defibrillator were used several times. He was gone. Peter was gone. Vivian collapsed to the floor, crying uncontrollably. Josh comforted Felicity, both wiping tears from their eyes. Each of them felt as if they had prepared themselves for it over the last hour, yet it felt so painful. No one can prepare for such an agony of losing a loved one. They were able to say goodbye, not many people are given that chance.

literature
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About the Creator

Shane Laing

I am an aspiring writer, still learning some much in the ways of writing. Please view my official facebook page.

https://www.facebook.com/MrLaingAuthor

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