END OF PART 4
When we said our tearful goodbyes in his living room early the next morning, I was sad on one hand but elated on the other. I had found what I had come to Montgomery for -- and much, much more. But now it was time for us to part again.
As I left, promising to return in two months, I felt a certain irony. I had waited 30 years for Vince. Now it was his turn to wait for me.
PART 5
I drove the whole 600 miles back home in just one long day. It was exhausting, but I wanted to have a day at home before going back to work. I had a lot of time to think en route, but mostly I just smiled as I pondered the events of the past few days.
In the ensuing weeks, Vince did hold to his promise of an occasional e-mail. They were heartfelt but too short for my liking. I don't think he had ever learned to type well, so his keyboarding skills were a bit slow. I wrote to him quite often, but I only heard back from him once a week or so. Neither of us was much into phone conversations, and texting was not even a consideration.
One of the first things I did after getting home was to wrap up a framed recent photo of myself and mail it to him. To my surprise, I got one in the mail from him as well, and it was clear that he had mailed it before he could've received mine. I put his photo on the nightstand next to my bed so I would see it every night as I crawled into bed and then again the next morning when I woke up. It became my new favorite possession.
I tried not to press Vince on the issue of telling his family about us. I figured that he had to do that on his own timeline and that prodding from me would just cause resistance and create a wedge between us.
I didn't mention it to him, but I was starting to check out possible jobs in the Montgomery area. I wasn't going to actually apply for any yet, wanting to see if the new "flame" that we had lit would still be burning as brightly in late May when I returned. I wanted to be absolutely sure of his commitment to a new life together with me before I pulled up stakes in Indianapolis.
The weeks went by slowly, and by mid May I was chomping at the bit to get back down there. Every night I kissed his photograph, and I hugged the second pillow on my bed close against me and pretended it was Vince. It was a poor substitute, but it was comforting nonetheless.
I managed to tag a couple of extra days onto the planned three-day official Memorial Day weekend by working some overtime in advance. I had reservations for a flight from Indy to Montgomery (via the inescapable Atlanta connection) for Thursday afternoon before the holiday weekend. It would have been foolish to drive down there this time and waste valuable time that we could spend together.
Early on Friday evening before my planned trip, however, I received a call on my cell phone. The display said "Alabama," and I answered it with trepidation. It turned out to be warranted.
"Mr. Mitchell...Drew...this is Adam Paulson in Montgomery -- Vince's son."
My heart sank. This could be nothing good -- and wasn't.
"What's up, Adam?" I said, holding my breath.
"I'm so sorry to bother you, sir, but I thought you should know. Dad's been in a bad car accident. Someone hit his car broadside in an intersection yesterday, and he's in the hospital."
I panicked.
"Is he going to be all right, Adam?"
"We don't know yet. He's pretty banged up. He's in an induced coma right now from a serious head injury, but before he went into that he managed to ask me to call you. I found your card in his wallet. I know you were coming here next week, but he...we all...wondered if you could possibly come down sooner. It would mean a lot to him."
"Oh, absolutely, Adam. Thank you so much for calling me. I'm really sorry to hear about this, but I'll get there as soon as I can tomorrow."
"Okay, call me when you get to town and I'll meet you at the airport. Dad said to tell you that you should stay at his house and use his car while you're here. I'll give you the keys to both when I see you. Bye."
"Bye, Adam...thank you again. I appreciate your call."
I felt sick to my stomach at the unexpected thought of my newly rediscovered friend and lover lying in a hospital bed unconscious. After I regained some sense of composure, I got online and changed my air reservations, not caring about the additional cost of rebooking myself on a flight out the next morning.
I raced back to the office to wrap up the essential loose ends that would enable me to be gone for a while. I tried to call my boss, but he wasn't home. I had to leave him a message that I would be away for a while due to a "family emergency." He knew darn well that I didn't have any "family" left, but I wasn't going to try to explain that Vince was now "family" to me, and he would be discreet enough not to ask.
I quickly packed up enough things for an indefinite stay and tried to get some sleep, which wouldn't come for a while. Even after it did, I woke up frequently during the night. At 6 a.m. the next day I got up, finished last-minute things, and caught a cab to the Indy airport. I waited impatiently for my 9:30 a.m. flight to Atlanta, where I would have to wait another couple of hours for the short hop over to Montgomery.
I called Adam on my cell phone from Atlanta to let him know I'd be arriving in Montgomery at 1:55 p.m. He sounded as tired as I felt. I met him at baggage claim, and he shook my hand with no expression. His normally bright eyes looked sallow and distant. I was sure he'd had little sleep since the accident.
"I'm glad you're here, Drew. Thanks for coming."
"Of course, Adam. It was good of you to meet me. How is your dad today?"
"No change since I talked to you last night. He's still in a coma and probably will be for a while. They had to do that to keep cranial swelling to a minimum. But it's still scary for me to see him that way."
I retrieved my baggage and walked with Adam out to his car. This was the first time we'd been alone with each other, so it seemed a bit awkward at first. He seemed okay with it, although a bit distracted. I watched the road ahead of us carefully to be sure he was keeping us safe. I was just glad that I didn't have to drive myself in my present fretful state.
"If you like, we can go straight to the hospital, and then I'll take you to the house later."
"That's fine, Adam. I'm anxious to see him as soon as possible."
"Well, I'd better warn you -- he's not a pretty sight right now. There's a lot of bruising and swelling."
"Any broken bones?" I asked.
"Miraculously, no," he replied, "but he's going to be plenty stiff and sore all over for a while."
"How are Sarah and the boys doing?"
"They're fine. Thanks for asking. They told me to say hi. The boys are too young to be allowed into the ICU, so Sarah's been keeping them at home. She wants to see you but figured you'd be too tired the first day. She wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow night."
"Tell her that's really sweet of her, Adam."
Nothing Adam had said could have adequately prepared me for my first look at my beloved Vince in his hospital bed. Only his eyes showed through his head bandages, and they were of course closed. He was hooked up to all manner of monitors and tubes. It broke my heart to look at him that way.
His hands, also bandaged, were outside of his covers, so I gently placed my hand on one of his.
"Hi, Vince. It's me -- Drew. I know you probably can't hear me, but I'm here for you."
His hand twitched a little, and I of course hoped he was responding to me. But I knew it was probably an involuntary movement. Tears formed in my eyes.
Adam was standing in the doorway, letting me have a moment with Vince, but his presence made me feel a little uncomfortable.
"Drew, would you like to stay here a while with Dad? I need to go home for a while. I can take you to Dad's house now or come back for you in a couple of hours."
"I'd be glad to sit with him for a while, Adam, while you get some rest. Could you come back for me around 5?"
"Sure, no problem, but you look like you could use some sleep, too. Call me on my cell phone if there are any changes in Dad or if you want to be picked up sooner."
"Thanks, Adam. I appreciate all that you're doing."
"It's what Dad would want," he said, as he turned to go. I thought he suddenly looked a lot older than 27.
I pulled up a chair and sat next to Vince for the next couple of hours. I talked to him, touched him, and sent up a silent prayer for his full recovery as my welled up tears streamed down my face. After reconnecting with him after 30 years, I couldn't bear the thought of losing him now -- just when his love was turning my life around.
The time passed quickly. I may have dozed off for a few minutes because I was startled to see a nurse checking on Vince. I hadn't seen her come in the room.
"Hello, I'm Patty. Are you from Mr. Paulson's family?"
"Yes, in a manner of speaking. I'm Drew Mitchell. Vince and I have been like brothers for a long time -- since we were six, actually."
"Oh, yes. The younger Mr. Paulson said you'd be coming. We normally only let family members visit in the ICU, but he said it would be all right for you to represent the family while he got some rest."
"Is Vince going to recover?" I asked, only wanting to hear good news of course.
"I can't really give you any medical information, Mr. Mitchell. The doctor is keeping his son up to date on all that. But just between you and me, I'm encouraged. He's been stable, and that's a good sign. Is his son returning soon?"
"Yes, he'll be back about 5. He needed a nap, I think."
"I'm sure. He's been at his dad's side nearly nonstop since Thursday."
"They are very close," I said.
"I can certainly see that, sir."
Adam returned right on time. After checking on his dad and talking to the nurse, he said he'd be back to sit with his dad for a while that evening but that he needed to take me to the house to get settled in.
"Did you get some sleep, Adam?" I asked on the ride to Vince's house.
"Yes, I was out like a light, even with the boys playing. I'm glad you're here so we can take turns sitting with him. That's okay with you, isn't it?"
"Absolutely. That's why I'm here. I don't want to get in your way, but I'm willing to do anything at all to help out."
"Well, let's get you over to Dad's house so you can get some rest."
We drove the rest of the way in silence. Even though I hardly knew this young man, I now felt a bond of sorts with him. I hoped that we could get to know each other and be at least cordial. Anything less would be very awkward in the circumstances we found ourselves in.
Adam walked with me to the front door and came in long enough to give me a set of keys for the house and car. He thoughtfully checked to be sure there was something in the refrigerator for me to eat, and there was.
"Well, make yourself at home, Drew. Dad would want that," Adam said. "Can you drive yourself to the hospital and sit with Dad tomorrow morning? I'll come and relieve you about noon if that's okay."
I nodded and reached out to shake his hand. Afterward he stood there in the hallway for a moment. "Again, Drew, I want to say that I'm glad you're here, but I think I should tell you something before I go home."
"What's that, Adam?"
"I don't want to talk about it tonight, but I just think you should know that Dad sat me down a couple of weeks ago. I know. It doesn't mean I've come to terms with it by any means, but you need to know that I know. Good night, Drew."
I stood there open-mouthed as Adam turned to leave. I had no idea that father-son conversation had taken place, because Vince hadn't mentioned it. I suppose he had planned to let me know next week before his accident made me come here sooner. On the one hand, I was relieved to know it was now out in the open. But on the other hand it felt odd that Vince wouldn't be able to buffer the situation for a while and that Adam and I were now kind of forced to deal with it with each other without him -- with "it" being the elephant in the room.
I made myself some dinner and then took myself back to the guest room that I -- and Vince, of course -- had occupied for two nights in late March. The house seemed eerie and cavernous without him in it. I looked in his bedroom and noticed my photo on his nightstand -- just like his photo was on mine back home.
I took a shower, remembering his soapy hands on my body from last time and missing them -- and the rest of him -- terribly.
I dried myself off and slipped into bed naked. Holding the second pillow tightly against myself, I once again prayed for my lover's swift and full recovery. I needed the real Vince back in my arms again. And soon. But how long would it be?
Exhausted, I fell asleep quickly and didn't wake up until nearly 8 the next morning.
I stretched and yawned as I willed myself to wake up. I had promised Adam I'd sit with Vince in the hospital that morning, which was a Sunday. I threw on a robe and walked down the hall to the kitchen to make myself some coffee. Looking out the window, I was startled to see a shirtless young man working in Vince's flower beds. Then I remembered he said something last time about having a yard boy. But what was he doing here on a Sunday, I wondered. He must be a student who could only work on weekends, I surmised.
Being late May in Montgomery, it was already pretty warm and humid, even in the early morning. I thought I should offer the young man some water, but when I looked over at the patio table I could see that he had brought his own water bottle. If this "shirtlessness" was a regular thing, I could see why Vince had hired this young hottie. I didn't want to alarm him, so I decided to remain indoors and just admire the view. I'd have to ask Adam later whether I should pay the gardener in Vince's temporary absence.
Then I remembered that Vince also had a cleaning lady. Surely she wouldn't show up on a Sunday, too. I made a mental note to remain fully clothed during working hours until I learned which day she was due to show up.
I was at the hospital by 9:30. Patty was again on duty and smiled as I passed the nurse's station.
"How is Mr. Paulson this morning?" I asked her.
"There's been no change, Mr. Mitchell. You can go on in and sit with him."
Vince was still in the second bed, next to the window. The first bed in his room had been vacant yesterday, but today I noticed that a young man was lying in it and staring at the ceiling.
"Hello," I said to him as I passed by.
"Hi," he said with a weak smile. He seemed awfully young to be lying there, I thought, and I wondered what was wrong that had landed him in the hospital.
"I'm here to visit Mr. Paulson. I'll try not to disturb you."
"That's okay," the young man said. He looked like he might be a late teenager. "I've been here since last night. It's good to see someone who isn't wearing a uniform and waking me every two hours to take my temperature and blood pressure."
I laughed and turned my attention to Vince. He looked exactly like he had yesterday afternoon. I looked at his monitors and his breathing, and everything seemed normal -- except for all the bandages and tubes. It was almost as unnerving to see him today as it had been yesterday, but today I was looking at him in a rested state of mind. I quietly shook my head as I took in the pathetic sight of him. Why did this terrible thing have to happen?
I sat beside Vince with my chair facing the head of his bed. My chair was between the two beds in the room, so I could also see his roommate, who was looking directly at me. I wondered why he didn't watch TV or something.
"What are you in here for, young man, if you don't mind my asking?" I asked, seeking a way to break the tension in the room.
"My name is Trevor, sir. I'm having surgery today."
I tried to place his accent. He was obviously from the South but didn't sound like an Alabamian.
"Drew Mitchell," I said, reaching over to shake his hand. He held it a second longer than most young men would, and he seemed to be trembling a bit. With his blond hair, blue eyes, and oval face, this boy was incredibly sweet looking.
"Don't you have any family to be with you, Trevor?"
"No, sir. Not yet anyway. I'm a student at Huntingdon College, and my mother is driving down here today from Virginia. I was brought here last night when I had a terrible pain in my abdomen. The ER medical team said my appendix needed to come out, and they weren't able to reach my mother until early this morning. She wasn't home last night," he said, looking wistful.
He stared at me like someone who was desperate for someone to talk to and care about his situation.
"What about your father?" I asked, perhaps being too nosy.
"He...left us a long time ago, sir. It's just Mom and me now -- and my older sister in New York. What happened to Mr. Paulson? Is he a relative of yours?"
"Vince, er Mr. Paulson, was badly injured Thursday in a traffic accident. He's in an induced coma now, but at least he doesn't have any broken bones."
"That's good, I guess."
I wondered how to answer Trevor's second question.
"Mr. Paulson and I have been good friends for a long time. His family called me to come down from Indianapolis to help them sit with him while he recovers. I was here all afternoon yesterday. His son will be here this afternoon."
"You must be a very close friend to come that far."
"Well, I was going to come down here for Memorial Day weekend anyway. I just moved up my arrival so I could help out the family."
That was only partially true. I was mainly here because I needed to be here for my own self interest -- to keep a close eye on my man and his recovery.
"It's good to have people to care about you. Mr. Paulson is lucky."
I smiled back at him. It was obvious to me that this young man was very lonely -- and probably very scared.
"How old are you, Trevor?"
"I'm 18. I'll be 19 in July. I just finished my first year at Huntingdon and was planning to take the bus back home to Virginia for the summer when this appendix thing got me. Now it looks like it's going to be a while before I can leave Montgomery, and I have to vacate my dorm room as soon as possible. Everything's crashing down around me, it feels like."
As I was wondering what I could possibly say to Trevor in response, a young black orderly came into the room pushing a cart of supplies.
"Trevor Butler?"
"That's me," Trevor said, looking at the orderly dubiously.
"My name is Morgan, and I'm here to prep you for surgery, Mr. Butler," he said, drawing the curtain around Trevor's bed as I sat inches away.
"What does that mean?" I heard Trevor say through the curtain.
"It means I have to shave you, sir. Would you remove your garments please? Do you need some help?"
"There's a knot in this string behind my neck. Can you get it for me?" His voice was shaking now, and I found it rather impossible to ignore the situation. I turned my attention back to Vince, who remained unresponsive but breathing normally. Now that I was not being closely observed by Trevor, I leaned over and kissed Vince through his facial bandages and gently squeezed his hand.
"I love you, Vince," I whispered. I hoped he had heard me but doubted that he did.
No words were now coming from the bed next to me, but I had no trouble envisioning what was going on there, having had this "shaving" procedure done to me once before surgery long ago. I knew that Trevor was lying naked in front of the orderly as he was shaving off Trevor's body hair -- or at least the part on his midsection and probably his pubes. The razor made little splashing sounds in the bowl of water that the orderly had brought with him on the cart.
"Sorry, sir," I heard Trevor say in a low voice. "I couldn't help it."
"No problem, fella. You aren't the first. I see those all the time. Don't worry about it."
After 20 minutes or so, the orderly finished up.
"Would you like some help getting dressed, Mr. Butler?" he said.
"No, I can manage," Trevor said. "Just leave the curtain closed please."
After the orderly had left, I tried to mind my own business, but it was difficult. Being no dummy, I recognized the sounds a young man makes when he's...well, taking care of business as they say. Apparently Trevor had found the situation he'd just been in rather erotic, and he needed some immediate self-induced relief.
Embarrassed, I got up to leave the room to give him some privacy, but then I heard him say, "Mr. Mitchell, could you help me please?"
"Sure, Trevor. What do you need?"
"Come in here but leave the curtain in place, sir."
With shaking hands, I carefully opened the curtain and saw that Trevor was lying under his sheet, probably still naked. His retreating hardness still showed a lump under the sheet, and I tried not to notice.
"I thought I could dress myself, but my stuff just slid off the bed onto the floor, and I'm not supposed to get out of bed until after the surgery is over. Could you give me a hand?"
"I'd be glad to. What would you like to put on first?"
"Could you help me with my pajama bottoms?" he said as he set his top sheet over enough to expose his feet and legs. Of course, everything else was exposed, too, and I caught my breath at the sight of his now hairless young body. His penis was still about half hard, looking all the larger for having no pubes around it.
"This is kind of embarrassing. I hope you don't mind helping me out here," he said, with a sweet smile.
"Not at all," I said, as I slipped the pajama pants over his feet and up his long slender legs. He raised his butt off the bed so I could pull them up all the way. His penis seemed to grow larger again, but maybe it was my imagination. Then he sat up far enough for me to put his top on and tie the strings behind his head. By now we were both trembling a bit. His eyes never left mine.
"You're scared, aren't you, Trevor? I know I'd be, with no family here to rely on."
Tears formed in his eyes as he realized that I could read his fear so clearly, and he reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly.
"You're very perceptive, Mr. Mitchell."
"You can call me Drew, Trevor. I just want you to know that I understand what you're going through. I've been alone for most of my adult life, and it's not always fun, is it?
"No, sir...Drew. My college friends have all left town for the summer, and I'm not even sure my mom is going to make it down here. She's never driven this far by herself. But the hospital wanted her to sign for my surgery if she possibly can. They said I needed to be 21 to sign for myself. They're keeping an eye on me for any possibility of a rupture."
"If there's anything I can do for you, Trevor, just say the word. Vince isn't waking up any time soon, I imagine, and I've enjoyed talking to you. It helps pass the time."
He thanked me, and I sat back down in my chair as he chatted on. I learned that he was from a rural part of western Virginia in the Blue Ridge Mountains and had gotten a scholarship to Huntingdon based on his high school achievements and his financial need. His mother was a grocery checker by day and occasionally supplemented their income with gigs as a cocktail waitress. That's where she'd been last night but hadn't retrieved her voice mail until the wee hours of the morning. He was concerned about her trying to drive down to Montgomery with little sleep and in an old car that might not even be able to make the trip.
I looked over frequently at Vince, but there was no movement or any sign of distress. I had a hunch this was going to be a long ordeal.
At quarter till noon, Adam arrived in the room to take the afternoon shift. I introduced him to Trevor, who was starting to look quite tired and in pain. I gave Adam an abbreviated summary of why Trevor was there and mentioned that he didn't have any family here yet.
While Adam was surveying his father's unchanged situation, Trevor groaned in pain and pushed his nurse call button. It wasn't long before Patty came in, decided that Trevor needed more help than she could give him, and summoned the doctor on call. Soon he was being wheeled out of the room on a gurney, supposedly headed to an operating room. I looked over at the young man and sent up a little prayer that his surgery would go well and that his mother would arrive safely. He looked at me with terrified eyes, and my heart broke for him.
As there was nothing more I could do then and I was hungry, I told Adam I was going out for some lunch. He gave me directions to his house so I could join his family for dinner at 5:30 and told me to go home and get some rest after lunch. I hated to leave Vince's side, but I knew I needed the rest. The evening ahead would be awkward at best, now that the cat was out of the bag about his dad and me.
(To be continued)
Thanks to all who have written to me so far, especially those who have shared a similar reminiscence from their own personal past and have been moved by this semi-fictional one. Please don't reproduce any part of this story without permission, but do write to me if you're so moved. I answer every e-mail, but I don't accept invitations to link to social networking sites. Please put "Vince" in the subject line so I know your message is not spam. Mention your location, if you don't mind. Thank you.
To see a clickable list of my other Nifty stories, please click on the "Authors" tab on the Nifty site. Then scroll down and click on "Damian" (but note that "Damian Chandler," just below my name, is a different author). I encourage you to make a donation to Nifty to support the work they do to make these stories available.
Damian (nvtahoeus@yahoo.com)