The End of Blame: Chapter 41

When Timothy finally opened his eyes the afternoon of his "death," he was greeted with Todd, who had been sitting by him, in the hospital chair, watching him breathe independently and wondering whether it was his strange way of going through life, where the unexpected found him, regardless, or just a mistake on the part of the doctors.  Timothy seemed frightened at first, and Todd leaned over and said, "Hey, it's all right.  You're at Dublin Hospital.  It's me, Todd.  You had surgery."


"I . . ." he began.  "I had more than that, Son."


"What do you remember?"


"Creena's voice.  A long tunnel, lots of white light.  Then, I was here."  His words were spaced unnaturally, with long periods of pause between them.  He said, "Todd," and closed his eyes.  A tear came out of the side of each one.


Todd took the man's hand.  "Yeah.  It's me."


"Need water."  Todd picked up the cup, poured some water, and put the cup to the man's lips.  Realizing it would spill, he took the straw that was left with the cup and used it.  Timothy drank a few sips and then stopped.  "That's better," the older man said.  He reached for Todd's hand again.


Todd said, "Right here.  It's all right."


Timothy said, "Does Creena know?"


"What, that you're going to be around to bug us?  Hell yeah, she knows.  Her first words, 'My God, it's a miracle,' he mocked.


Timothy cracked a weak smile.  "She's the same as always.  And what were your first words?"


"Hell, no, it's malpractice!"


"Of course," he said, grimacing.  Even the barely-begun happenings of a small laugh were too painful with the staples in his body.  "Whatever it was, it was."


"Yeah."


He moved his eyes to the side, and took a long look at Todd.  He said, "You're tired.  Ya need to go home. . .family. . . long enough.  You . . . suffering.   Your soul needs to be where it longs."


"How do you know I'm suffering?"  Todd asked, amazed at how right the man was.


"Look.  Your face.  Tired."


Todd reflected back on the previous evening and the horrific dream that he had and his reaction.   His stomach began to churn again, with the images of his mother, pushed to the ground under Peter, going through his mind.  He said, "I think I am.  I'd like to go home, to be honest, but we will stay as long as you need us."


"Bring Creena, and go,"  he said.  "And this has to be. . . the end. . . of all the blame, Todd."


Todd looked down into the man's face and said, "I  . . . I'm glad you're alive."


"I love ya.  Now go, get home."


***


Blair was with Sister Rebecca Katherine, who was putting up a fuss about being in bed, when she said, "Sister, I want to talk to you about Todd."


The nun said, "All right.  What do you want to tell me?"


"He's . . . better, but still suffering.  I want to take him home.  I feel like if he were there, with the boys, able to see Starr, able to hold Little Ray, he would be healing faster.  He had a terrible dream last night, Sister.  Terrible.  He woke up and threw up, he just got violently sick, again."


"Does he talk to you about the dreams?"


"Not much, he just says it's about his mother.  What he must be seeing. . . it's hard to imagine."


"It's a terrible thing.  But I do agree, ya should take the lad home.  He deserves his own place to feel himself again.  The comforts of the family, the children.  And they must miss their parents as well."


"So strange, Sam is not even Todd's child, and the two of them are in sync.  Sam also had a nightmare last night."


"Bridgette, what about you?  Ya look tired.  You've been taking care of Todd so much, have ya been taking care of yourself?"


"I don't even know what to do for myself.  When he's a mess, I am.  I can't think of anything else.  Last night, when he ran out of the bedroom, I was stumbling in the dark, so tired.  I followed him, and helped him through it, but it's hard for me to get back to rest and not be pulled into his pain.  He's so . . . full of guilt."


"Look at what he saw, Bridgette.  Think of what it meant, what it felt like to a little boy, and later, a teenager who had it happen to him, and still later, an adult who perpetrated it on someone else.  We're fortunate he has not given up and given in."


"I've thought of that.  I've thought of him going insane.  That's why I am scared and want to get him home.  I think being around our kids is what both of us need."


"Couldn't agree more," Todd said, appearing at the door.  "And someone else feels the same way."


The nun looked up from her bed, "Timothy?"


"Yes.  He's up, he wants to see you and ordered me to go home.  Is it all right, Sister, if we leave you to help him recover and go?"


"Of course, my Son, the rest of this is downhill.  I'll get him on his feet and then bring him to the states so he can stick to his promises and quit his drinking."


Todd said, "He will.  I made him swear.  No more booze."


"And what did he make ya swear?  He's not likely to agree to much without an exchange.  He's a stickler, that one."


"He did.  He made me promise to forgive myself and the things I've 'done that plague me.'" he mocked, slightly, then said, "Or at least work on it."


"I like the way he thinks," Blair said.


"So what do you think, Mrs. Manning?  Shall we get this little 'penguin' as Timothy calls her, over to his room, and then head back to Unforgettable?"  His voice sounded so hopeful and alive.  It was the first time in a while.


"Yes, that is exactly what I was thinking.  The Mannings are going home!"


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