Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 24

"Jack, please, Jack, it's Mom, talk to me, Jack."  Blair had become frantic, as she ran around to the back of the ambulance as it finally pulled up.  Todd was waiting for her there, just as he said.  He put his hand out and she ran to his side as the back of the ambulance opened.  She doubled over, and said, "God, not another of my babies."


Todd was already at her side, and pulling her to standing against him, said, "No.  He's going to make it."


She looked into Todd's eyes, "He died on the way, Todd, he stopped breathing and his heart stopped.  They used those things . . ."  she was beside herself, and Todd knew he had a great deal to handle in the next hours, either way.


"He's not dead.  He's alive.  He's breathing now,"  he said,  "See, he's all right."  The EMTs wheeled Jack out of the ambulance on a gurney and pushed him rapidly into Emergency.  Both Todd and Blair ran to keep up with the speed of the medics, and Blair, in her very highest heels, slightly tripped.  Todd, grabbing her arm, kept her from falling and she reached down, tore her shoes off, and ran ahead of him.  Todd was amazed that in pursuit of his son, Blair was much faster and he had to push to keep up with her.


Before they realized what was happening, Jack was wheeled into a cubicle and they were pushed out by staff.  She turned to her husband and immediately buried her face in his chest.  Todd held her, and the sickening, clammy feeling of fear began to overtake him.  Being certain that showing her any of that would only hurt the situation, he became stoic and waited quietly, holding her and telling her various reassurances.


That was when the door burst open, and in rushed Sam, Starr, Timothy, Dorian, Kelly and Cassie.  They'd been waiting in the limo, until they couldn't see Todd and Blair anymore from the parking area.  Cassie said, "Oh my God, Blair," and put her arms out, and Blair, hesitantly, left the comfort and safety of Todd's arms and moved to hers.  


Todd went to Timothy, and Timothy put an arm on his back as he stood by him.   "Son, any word?"


"Nothing."  


Sam ran to Todd, and said, "Dad, what's going on?"


Todd scooped up Sam and said, "Jack's not feeling well, Sam."


"That's what everyone said.  Is he okay?" the little boy asked, appearing very frightened.


"He will be," Todd said.  What if he's not?  What if . . . do I deserve this, too?  I gave him away, so he's taken from us?


Within moments, the curtain opened and the doctor approached the family.  Blair shot to Todd's side, and he steadied her with his arm.  He said, "Doctor, he's going to be all right, isn't he?"


"He has a very good chance of that, yes.  We're going to pump his stomach, and get the alcohol removed from the system as much as possible.  There's also a treatment, a medication that counteracts the effects.  You'll have to sign paperwork."


"We'll sign, please, just help him."  Blair said.  Her voice was crackly, like leaves underfoot.  


Timothy said, "There's a lot more to this, Lad.  The boy's got to have help."


Todd nodded, and couldn't help but feel he had let his family down, again.  How did it get by him that Jack was this bad off?  Why didn't he push for him to see Ray every day, at least until things improved?


Hours passed, and the family was camped out in the emergency room waiting room, Sam was sleeping, stretched out on a seat next to Blair with his head in her lap, and she, in turn, had her head on Todd's shoulder, with her eyes wet and red from fear.


Timothy was pacing, and had already made a call to St. Anne's, figuring that his sister should know what was happening.  Kelly, Starr and Cassie were huddled together, and Dorian, overtly calm, but broken-hearted, wrung her hands, sitting alone, until Timothy came to her side after making the call.  "I reached her.  Creena will want to be here."


"I helped raise that little boy," Dorian said.  "He was always snarky, just like his father.  Sometimes, it made me angry and made me lose my patience with him.  But most times, he was a comic relief for daily life.  He's changed, a great deal, since the whole mess with Zeus."


"Dorie, ya mustn't think the worst.  I've seen folks worse off than this.  The booze, it's a killer."  She knew he was talking about himself.


Todd, holding Blair's hand, wasn't saying much, and Sam was out cold, sleeping.  She said, "You can't do this."


"What?"  Todd said.


"Think the way you're thinking," she said.


"How am I thinking?"  


"You're thinking how this is your fault.  If you were here, if Zeus didn't raise a hand to Jack, if you paid more attention, if you weren't so wrapped up . . ."


"How do you hear my head?" he said.


"I don't.  I hear your heart.  Every day.  Anyway, it's not your fault."


"It's not yours either."


She didn't say anything.  She just closed her eyes and let tears ooze out.


"It's not, Babe.  It's not your fault either, if it's not mine."


"Todd, I can't do this."


"You're not going to 'do' anything but wait for him to come out of it all right."


"What do you think made him drink so much?  What if he dies?"


"He's been struggling for a while.  Asking me if we'll be all right.  Let's face it, his life has not been a party since I got here."


"I won't listen to that."


"We have to face that.  Since I came home, there has been one thing after another.  And he's heard all too much.  I thought I was doing the best for him, keeping him in the loop.  But he's a kid.  I should have known."  He looked directly into her eyes, "And this is why, Blair. . ."


"No, not this again.  You should have known?  I raised him and saw all of his growing up stuff.  I should have seen all of this coming."


"What good are you two doing?"  Cassie asked, sitting next to them on Todd's side.  "Looking back is not going to change today.  Looking ahead can change what comes next, though."


The doctor interrupted, "Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Manning?"


Todd stood, still holding Blair's hand, and she petted Sam's hair.


"He's out of the woods.  We pumped his stomach, he had ingested at least twelve ounces of a 90-proof alcoholic beverage, which is quite a substantial amount and quite dangerous.  He'll recover, though, and I suggest some kind of rehabilitation or therapy."


"He has a therapist," Todd said, faintly.  Blair felt his hand let go, and worried he'd collapse.  


She said, "Todd, sit down," and pulled his arm.


Todd, feeling woozy and lightheaded, listened to his wife and sat back down next to her.  The doctor said, "We can talk about this later.  Right now, I wanted you to know that he's going to make it."


Blair breathed out, and her head went back to Todd's shoulder.  He looked up, "Can we see him?" he said.


"Certainly."


Todd got up, and moved Sam gently off Blair's lap, to which he just stirred a little and Cassie slid herself under him to provide a resting place for the little boy's head.  


The Mannings proceeded to Jack's cubicle, hand in hand, but not before meeting up with Starr and telling her that Jack was going to be all right.  She hugged them both, crying a little, and then turned back to her cousin Kelly and went to sit and wait.


Todd and Blair approached Jack's bedside.  He was, Todd realized, a beautiful baby, even all grown-up. His eyes misted over, and Blair touched her son's hand.  "Son?  It's Mom."


He opened his eyes, and looked at her.  "Mom."


"Yes, and your father, he's right here."


"Dad."


"Yeah.  It's me.  How do you feel?"  Todd said.


"Bad."


"Well, you drank a lot.  Too much for your body."  Todd said.


"Sam?"


"He's here," Blair said, tears streaming down her face.


"Mom?"


"Yes, Baby Boy?"  she said, barely able to squeak it out.


"Mom, I'm sorry," he said, beginning to cry.


She was also moved to crying harder, hearing him.  "It's okay now."


"I'm just sorry, Mom," he cried, and she leaned down to embrace him.  Todd, with his hand on her back, swallowed back his own emotion and remained stolid as his son broke down.  She stood, and turned to Todd, putting her face against his chest.


Jack took a few deep breaths, and still crying, he said, "Dad?"


"Yeah, Jack?"


"It's not your fault, Dad."


Todd breathed in deeply, and said, "You don't worry about us.  You worry about you, Jack."


"You . . . did everything a good dad should do.  I screwed up.  I'm sorry."


Todd became choked up and could not answer, and Blair said, "Your father knows that."


Jack closed his eyes a moment, and seemed to be drifting off to sleep.  Todd and Blair watched him a few more moments, and then left the cubicle and returned to the family.  Todd said, "You all may as well go home, he's going to be all right.  Just sleeping it off."


Dorian leaned in and surprisingly kissed Todd's cheek.  Then, she moved to Blair, who had been staring at her aunt's behavior the whole time.  Cassie said, "Will you call us if you need anything?"


"We will."  

Kelly and Cassie began to organize themselves to leave, but Dorian, looking into Timothy's face, seemed to lag.  Cassie and Kelly had been entertaining Sam, who had awakened while Todd and Blair were with Jack.  Timothy took Dorian's hand, and she nodded to the other two Cramers to leave her behind.

Todd said, "What's gotten into her?"

Blair looked at him and said, "Timothy, I guess."


Sam walked to his parents, and said, "Dad?"  and put out his arms.  


Todd lifted him.  "Yeah, Buddy?"


"I want to see Jack."


"He's all right."


"I want to see him."


"He's asleep right now."


"I want to see him, Dad.  I want to see Jack."  The little boy was becoming visibly upset, and his breathing was escalating, as well as the volume of his voice.  


Blair said, "All right, Sam.  We'll take you in to see Jack."


Starr said, "Can I come, too?"


"Sure," Todd said, and the four of them went back to the cubicle.  Jack was not awake, but he was resting comfortably.  


Starr took his hand, and immediately began to cry.  "Jack . . ."  He didn't stir, but she held his hand and leaned over to kiss his forehead.  "Dad, are you sure he'll . . ."


"I'm sure.  He's all right, Starr."


She kissed his hand, and put it back down at his side.  "I'm going to the ladies' room," she said, and wiped her tears as she left.


Sam said, "Jack, wake up?"


Jack did not move.  He just breathed, quietly, and continued to sleep.  Todd said, "He needs a lot of rest, right now."


"But Dad," Sam said, starting to cry, "He has to get the message."


"What message, Sam?"  Blair said.


"He has to get my message.  The one in here," the little boy said, pointing to the center of his chest.


Blair gulped, and said, "He'll get the message.  He will."


"I want him to get my message now,"  he cried, and put his head on Todd's shoulder.  His little cries gave way to full-blown sobs.  Todd patted his back, and soothed him the best he could, while Blair, taking his hand, shushed him.


Jack's eyes fluttered open.  Groggy, he said, "Stop crying, you little goofy runt."


Sam said, "Jack!" and continued to cry a little, but definitely felt better hearing his voice.


"Yeah?"



"Jack, I have a message, from in here."


"Okay.  What is it, because I'm kind of tired, Sam," Jack said, yawning.


Todd put him down so he could approach the bed.  He said, "Jack, I wanted to tell you that I love you so much for a brother.  I don't want you to leave me."


Blair walked out of the cubicle immediately, and Todd could hear her sob.  He gulped and stood by, with his hand on Sam's shoulder.


Sam continued, "You're the best brother," and all that was left of his tears were the tracks on his cheeks.


"Nah, you're the best brother.  Ever.  I mean that," and Jack lifted his hand, as slow as it took, and placed it on the top of little Sam's head.


Sam said, "I am?  Really?  Better than Ray?"


"The best.  You're the best brother.  Now, can I go to sleep?"


"Yeah, okay.  Dad, Jack said I'm the best brother."


"I heard him," Todd said.


"Jack, I love you," Sam said, patting his brother's arm.


"I love you, Sam."  Jack whispered.


Sam turned and ran, without warning, and called, "Mom, Jack loves me, he said so . . ."


Todd turned back to Jack, who had a tear rolling down his face.  He said, "Son?"


Jack said, nothing, just turned his eyes to his father.


"The next time you think of doing this to yourself, you'd better remember that little boy."


He nodded.  After a few minutes, Todd saw his hand reach up, and he took it.  "What is it?"


"Dad," Jack said, through tears.


"Yeah, Jack, what is it?"


"Dad, I'm . . . I'm screwed up."


"So, that makes you a regular Manning, in my book.  Who's not?"


"I'm . . . really screwed up," he wept.


"Not that screwed up, trust me.  I was screwed up, at your age.  Angry.  Violent."


"I feel violent, sometimes, inside."


"We all do."


"I want to hurt someone.  The way you guys were hurt.  The way . . ."


Todd admitted to himself that hearing this made his heart jump.  He sounds so much like me.  He said, "I know.  Me too, but that doesn't solve anything in the long run."


"Dad," Jack slipped into sobs, "Why did all this have to happen to us?  Why did Mrs. Morasco have to die?"


Todd closed his eyes for a moment, and swallowed.  "I . . . don't know.  It's just the way life goes.  You can't always understand it."


Jack closed his eyes, "Why did your father have to hurt you like that, Dad?"


Todd stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder.  "He was sick.  He left things in me that . . . But you know what, your mother is strong.  She's stronger than me, and you have to believe that.  She'll always be there for you."

Jack looked terrified, and grabbed his father's arm with the little strength he had.  "What do you mean?  Dad, you can't leave us, not again.  That's not what you meant, right?  You can't leave me.  Not again." His son's face was unlike he remembered it.  It was open, and his emotions were raw.  He made no attempts at hiding them, or deflecting them.  Jack was letting himself be shown.


Todd said,  "No, I'm not going anywhere, Son.  I'm not going to leave you, and you're not going to lose yourself.  We're both very strong."


Jack openly cried, and Todd stroked his hair, saying, "Trust me, Jack.  You're going to come through this.  So is your old Dad," he sighed, raggedly, "and we have your mother to help us out."  Todd couldn't say more, as he stood there, comforting his son, he flashed on pieces of the scene between his father and the only mother he had known, more than thirty years before. 


He heard Peter,  "You fucking little bitch."

"Fucking?  What do you know about that?"  That was his mother's voice.  

Peter grabbed her by the arms and shook her, violently slamming her against the wall, and she hit it, hard, a loud thud ringing out.  Todd saw a puddle form at his feet. . .


Jack used all of his strength to sit up and reach for his father, who took him, in his arms and pressed him close to his chest.  "I'll be all right, and so will you, Jack."  He sounded reassuring, even to himself.


"I love you, Dad.  I'm . . . grateful you came home."


"Me, too, Son."


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