Chapter 5

As we sat in the car on the ferry for the short trip across the straight to the mainland, I was thinking about my son and questioning myself for the umpteenth time about whether I had failed him somehow. His mother had often accused me of not spending enough time with him when he was young, and that I had always put work ahead of family. According to her, that was the reason that he’d had such a difficult life. To some extent I was ‘guilty as charged’. But, it seemed that whenever I tried to engage with him in sports, his hobbies, schoolwork etc., something would happen ... one of us would get frustrated with the other, there were angry words exchanged, and we’d go our separate ways. I suppose I should have been more patient with him especially since I’m the adult. In my defence, even when he was very young, we looked at life in a completely different way, which made it extremely difficult to find any common ground.

Jinny was riveted to her cell phone. “I’ve been trying to contact him several times but he’s not answering. I sure hope he’s okay.”

We got off the ferry and used the car’s navigation to guide us to the McDonalds. We pulled into the parking lot and ran inside. There were only a few people sitting around the perimeter of the dining area. A quick scan showed that Brad was not one of them! I went up to the counter to see if anyone had seen him.

“Yeah, there was a guy who looked like that,” said a pimply faced teen. “There were a couple of scary looking dudes that came in and hauled him outta here.”

“Did you see which way they went?” I asked him.

“I think it was to the left, but I’m not sure.”

I thanked him and we starting searching, having no clear idea where to start. After about twenty minutes of walking up and down the street, looking for clues and checking out all the people passing us, we were about to give up, thinking that he mustn’t be in the area. On a whim, I suggested an alley. It was dimly lit but about thirty feet into it we saw something that looked like a heap of clothes by a garbage bin. Closer inspection revealed it was Brad! He showed no sign of life and I had a sick feeling that he was dead. I checked for a pulse and there was a weak one. We used the light on Jinny’s phone. There were bruises and smears of blood on his face consistent with a severe beating.

I called 911 and while we waited for help, I attempted to gently rouse him. Jinny was talking to him, trying to get him to react to her voice but to no avail. He was out cold. The paramedics arrived about ten minutes later. They took his vital signs, put him on a stretcher and transported him to an ambulance.

“Is he going to be okay?” Jinny asked them, as walked towards the street.

“Too soon to tell. His pulse is weak, but he’s breathing normally. We’ll have a better idea when we get him to emergency,” said one of the attendants.

We drove to the hospital and after providing some information about his identity at the reception desk, we sat down and waited. I called Amy and updated her on Brad’s condition. I let her know that I would probably be at the hospital for quite a while until we knew what his chances were.

“Oh Jake, I’m so sorry. I sure hope he’s going to be okay. Call me if you get any news or just want to talk.”

After a short conversation that reinforced my strong and warm feelings for her, I figured that I’d better let my ex know what was going on. I don’t want to talk to that bitch right now, I thought, deciding to text her instead. I sent her a terse message: Brad is in the hospital. He’s hurt bad.

It was now well after midnight, so I didn’t think she’d respond right away, but at least I’d done my duty informing her. But I was wrong. Within a couple of minutes, my phone rang. I debated whether to answer it but decided that I had to, under the circumstances. She came right to the point, exactly what I was expecting from her.

“It’s 2 am! This better be fucking serious. You just woke me up from a sound sleep.”

I didn’t mince words. “Brad is in a bad way. To be honest, they don’t know whether he’s going to make it.” There was a long pause.

“I’m sorry for the attitude, Jake. I knew this was going to happen some day,” she said, noticeably upset and crying. “Where is the hospital? I’ll be right there.” I told her which one, and she hung up.

“Well, I finally get to meet Brad’s mother. He’s told me a lot about her ... a fair bit of it not that flattering. Sorry Jake, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No worries, Jinny. I could tell you some stories about her too, but it’s not a good time to get into that.” We looked up to see a woman approaching us.

“Are you Brad’s father?” she said, looking at me.

“Yes I am. How’s he doing?”

“I’m the doctor looking after him. I am cautiously optimistic that he’s going to make it.”

“Why the caution?”

“Well, he’s awake and his vital signs are good but he’s not responding to simple questions ... his name, where he lives etc. So, we’re concerned that he might have suffered a concussion and there’s a possibility that he has brain damage. We’ll have a better idea in a day or so. He needs to stay here for observation. Also I’ve ordered an EEG that will check to see how well his brain is functioning.”

“Can we see him?” Jinny asked.

“Yes, but only for a few minutes.”

She led us down a hallway to a small room that was more like a closet. “I’m sorry but this is the only space we have available right now.” There was barely enough room to walk in it, the bed and assorted monitoring equipment taking up most of the space.

Jinny and I edged in on either side of the bed. They had cleaned him up quite a bit. However he still had several purple coloured bruises covering his face. One of his eyes was blackened with a row of stitches above it. He appeared to be sleeping but when Jinny bent over and kissed him on his forehead, his eyes slowly opened and a small grin appeared. That was good! He recognized her.

“Brad, it’s Dad here,” I said, taking his hand. He looked over at me and the smile lingered. Then he grimaced and his lips moved slightly. He tried to talk but it was more like mumbling and unintelligible. He kept on even though you could see that it was difficult for him trying to speak.

“You’ll have to leave. He really needs to rest,” the doctor said, ushering us out.

And then it came out quite clearly – “Dad, I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes and drifted away.

Jinny wanted to stay but the doctor convinced us that sleep was the best thing for him and suggested that we come back in the morning. We were on our way out, walking down the hallway to the exit when I saw my ex and former best friend headed in our direction.