Dead But Never Gone

Chapter Three

Sam and Mercedes loved their son so much. There were so many promises and arrangements made once he was born. When they brought him home for the first time, it was even more of a relief than ever before.

Actually, it was as stressful as Mercedes actually giving birth to him.

Before giving them the birth video, Brittany actually passed it around to some other relatives and friends. Some relatives on Mercedes got it during the last few moments of the family reunion before Sam and Mercedes left the hospital to bring Joe home. Their little son had been all the talk for the past three days after that. While Mercedes found it embarrassing for Sam's sister to show around a video of her screaming and pushing an infant out, she couldn't be happier to know other people cared.

Joe himself was already a handful without the other relatives gushing over him, pinching him on the cheeks, and whatnot. Still, his life and how he grew up was such a thrill to have in any household. He behaved with Mercedes and Sam pretty well, and he's polite with so many people. It was hard for both Sam and Mercedes to leave him be.

Whether Mercedes had her first time before or after marriage, she was as big on Christianity as her parents were. It was a big helping hand to her in situations such as a family death, someone's house burning, the poor in jeopardy – any issue in particular. She'll admit that she made a big mistake when she had early sex with her boyfriend. But it taught her a lesson: God will always be by her side. He was worthy of any obstacle. He was worthy of lifting any spirit.

Plus, he was good to Mercedes's boyfriend and son. The girl wanted Joe to learn as much as he could. He needed to understand what the Lord did to make him the way he was then. Good would come to him if he gave back that same joy. The family already knew that Joe was a loving, sweet boy. He got everything he could possibly get. It was such a blessing to not give him up for adoption.

God would definitely teach him how worthy of accomplishing anything he really was when Joe got to him.

The young boy went to church every Sunday with his parents, staying for at least four hours. He got engaged into some children's activities they had there and he learned a lot about the Bible. The Sunday church days were really big advantages to him. He prayed every day before going to bed, helped blessed the food, and thanking God each day for him being alive, and for having the best parents in the world.

Mercedes and Sam would've never thought that Joe could learn so much when it came to Christ and the Bible. However, his education in general was just as important.

Before everything dealing with his faith, there had been a time when Joe was growing and needed to get schooled. The four or five-year-old didn't know how to read or write just yet, and he was supposed to be close to kindergarten. Since both parents were still in college and seeking jobs, they couldn't afford to get Joe into private school.

Mercedes' mom was always available for homeschooling whenever Joe needed it. It was difficult for the older woman, because she only knew so much. Her best subjects were English and Trigonometry; however, young Joe was still reading and writing at a second-grade level back when they started the homeschooling tactic, and he doesn't know more than adding stuff.

With the help of Mercedes and Sam's mothers, they were able to get their money together and get some workbooks and other supplies to help out the brunette-haired boy. Lucky for them, he was a fast learner. In just four or five weeks, they could teach him everything from adding money to dividing a pizza pie; and everything from reading a couple of words to writing a whole paragraph. The whole homeschooling concept seemed to be working perfectly.

The downside, though, was the fact that poor little Joe didn't make much friends. He went to church, of course, and met people there. Sometimes either his mom or his dad would take him to the park near their home, and they would meet other kids there. But they never stuck around to being his permanent friends. Joe was so used to homeschooling, and didn't want to leave the house away from his mother and father. They suggested enrolling him in public school when they had enough money and when Joe was more independent.

Mercedes wanted him in public school so he could be able to learn more than what her parents had been teaching him. Unfortunately, the jobs she reached out to rejected her. She wanted to work for a clothing company and design outfits for any season. She had made a couple of scarves and hats for Joe and Sam to wear in the winter at one point. The poor girl didn't know what to do. She wanted to work as a fashion designer so bad, and worked very hard to work up to it. Plus, Joe still needed to go to school. She wished a miracle would come.

And one day, it actually came.

Right around when Joe hit about fourteen years old, Sam had gotten a job as a sales manager for Gateway Inc., and he raised a good amount of money on the first few weeks. Once progress was being made, they were able to get Joe into high school when he was around fifteen years old. He even got to meet some new friends there.

He was pretty nervous about starting high school. He was so used to learning at home with his grandparents. They came up with some pretty fun tactics like whipping up recipes from Grandma Jones's cookbook, or building a bird house for the birds that come for food in the sunny afternoons. High school was more difficult. Sure, his Math and English, with traces of Science and History, were easy; but there was more he had to learn about, and he almost had a hard time studying it all.

Not just the work itself, but the other students that roamed the area got Joe nervous. He heard stories about bullies defecating the school yearbooks with mean quotes and touches over the lame students. Cheerleaders would laugh and gossip at the nearest fat girl who sat alone at lunch. Fights would break out between two guys or two girls once a month – once every couple of months, if everything happens to go well.

Joe didn't get into that nonsense, though. He was a smart boy, and he was willing to do the right thing. That's what God intended him on doing. He's heard a lot about colleges such as NYU and Valparaiso in Indiana. More college options were brought to him by a fellow student in one of his classes named Rory. There was bound to be thousands from each state in the United States. Before returning to his hometown in Ireland, Rory planned on going to a college down in Massachusetts. He didn't know much about America, but he was willing, starting from Ohio and Massachusetts, working his way up.

College seemed to be interesting to Joe. He wasn't sure what the difficulty factors were in terms of work and location, but if it would get him the career he always wanted, then he would roll along with it. He wanted to have something to do with Christ since his parents had introduced him to Christianity; but he also wanted to get out a little more and do something fun.

He had joined a glee club a couple of weeks after transferring into William McKinley High School. He had watched a band member play a guitar off the side while someone rocked out to the song "Bring Me To Life". He had no idea on who sang the song or anything like that, but he did know that the guitar seemed like a pretty sweet instrument. He had gotten some lessons from Sam on the weekends when he wasn't working. Most of them were Christian songs, though. Mercedes had been hearing artists' singles coming out, and she wouldn't want her own son to be exposed to that kind of crap.

It only took about two or three months; but Joe successfully got the guitar down, and it has become one of his favorite instruments. One time in the Glee club, someone had introduced him to Steven Tyler and one of his songs that was released on a website called YouTube. Joe would dance in his seat every time he heard "It Feels So Good", despite of context.

After that, and looking through some more genres of music, Joe had finally realized what he wanted to be: a performer. One that just rocks out to guitar and sings behind the microphone. Along with his songwriting skills, he could inspire other people out there like him to make the right choices and be better than they thought they were. Maybe that one dropout student who needs God in their life will be lifted up by one of Joe's soon-to-be classics.

Joe had so much he wanted to do in his life. Every passing moment, his smile would grow wider to the thought of God blessing him with such joy in the outside world. New sites, new sounds, new tastes and smells, new people – everything was so new to him. He wanted to see it all. He wanted to see it all before it was all too late.

At least he hoped he would get to…if he can make it out of this tragedy.

Tires were screeching on the streets as the fifteen-year-old's father was driving past so many other drivers on the street. Everything still looked to be blacked out in Joe's vision due to him passing out a while earlier. Horns were honking and the boy's father was shouting, giving him the utmost headache. Joe very well knew that this was serious, but the noise was making it worse.

He couldn't really stand it anymore. Only opening his eyes, though, brought the sunlight in. He tried to get his eyes to settle with the surrounding space for a minute, for the light made his sight a little blurry. And – good God, his head was hurting so much. His back did as well. He could barely move.

His mother had his head resting on her lap as she kept her hand stroking Joe's forehead for comfort. There was so much worry in her voice when she spoke to her husband and then back to her ill son. "Please, go a little slower, Sam," she warned softly, hoping she won't interrupt the poor boy below her.

Joe could hear his father say, "I'm trying, okay? We need to go now. He could be severely hurt or –"

The now brunette dreadlocked boy had noticed her mother look down at her. She looked really pretty no matter what situation there was. Joe admired her since he was an itty bitty baby. He'd smile at the high voices she would make while playing around with the woman. Her hair was black and exquisite, and she didn't seem to have self esteem problems at all.

Mercedes, along with Sam, was Joe's mentor for life. Not only did she change his diapers and fed him every morning, but she taught Joe how to be the person everyone wants to be. To treat others how they want to be treated. To love God for everything he has done, although some things in the world aren't as perfect as people want them to be.

Joe always wondered, judging by being out of the homeschooling phase for about four or five months, why more people weren't like her.

It must've been her voice…or the flowing, black hair she had. It could be any reason.

"Oh, he's waking." Joe could hear his mother's sweet voice faintly as he tried to wake himself up a little more.

The last thing he could remember before waking up in the back seat of his parents' car was upchucking a massive amount of dinner out of his mouth to his bedroom floor, the pain clenching to his stomach and forehead, and him falling on the hallway floor as he attempted walking to the stairs. That was the most painful fall he had ever taken.

Joe's vision was finally clear as he looked Mercedes in the eye. Worry filled his hazel eyes, he couldn't feel his guts, and he had the urge to cry. He didn't know how this happened. A couple of days ago – or maybe about a week – he was hanging out with a bunch of friends and doing whatnot. Then he gets ill out of the blue, causing him to miss three or four days of school.

He didn't want to miss school. All of his new friends were there. His education – now that he's actually in public school right now – was there. It would go against him on his record. He can't afford that.

There was so much to worry about at the moment. He's not in school right now, his mother was worried out of her poor little mind, and Sam was driving furiously at the wheel, making his son car sick. It was bad enough that he puked moments before this, but Joe felt like he would throw up all of his insides out.

"Mom…" The weak, frightened teenager moaned. He wasn't that loud due to him being unconscious for about fifteen minutes and hitting his head on the wooden floor of their house. Still, Mercedes could hear her son just fine. "Momma…" the devoted Christian boy called again faintly, feeling the need to roll over on his stomach or something.

Mercedes rubbed Joe's forehead some more, the palm of her hand reaching the roots of his dreadlocks. "Joseph…" she called softly and sweetly. Joe admired the way his mother comforted him when he got sick. The only difference, though, was the fact that this was more severe. "Baby, are you okay?" Mercedes asked. She bit her lip anxiously, waiting for a response.

Joe's eyes watered just a little. He didn't want his mother to see him cry. He wanted to prove to her that he was strong enough to do this and that he wasn't a momma's boy like people in school have been calling him. Unfortunately, it was so hard for him to fight back. Right now, he was so defenseless against himself that only someone rubbing his back would make it worse.

His mother knew wholeheartedly where he was coming from. She always worried for her son even when there were happy times with him, Sam, and other family members and friends. Sure, she always had great moments with Joe and Sam; but she had an overprotective side to her that didn't show physically, for the most part.

And now, she wished she had paid more attention. Joe wouldn't be in this state now if she did.

"Don't worry, sweetie," she assured to her fifteen-year-old Christian son. "Dad and I are going to get you to the hospital, and you're gonna get better. Do you understand me, son?" She continued rubbing his forehead softly just to be sure he had heard her.

Joe bit down hard on his bottom lip as he tried his best to nod. He found it odd that he couldn't even do that when he's this sick. Everything hurt so much. Why did this have to happen? He would understand if he had the chicken pox or a broken arm, but this?

He hoped the doctors at the hospital will be able to get him out of that hospital, safe and sound, before his guts get out of his body.

At that thought, he felt his stomach turn. It was so painful. This was the biggest stomachache he's had since his parents had taken him to Old Country Buffet where he had gotten some dark meat, and had given him some moderate diarrhea for the whole day. He begged Mercedes to never go back to that place again.

His throat still hurt from vomiting in the house a while ago. He didn't want to throw up again. Why can't the puking stop for just one minute, and let him relax and get his body together?

Mercedes tried bringing Joe back down from his now seating position, but the boy held himself up with one hand over his mouth and his eyes closed shut again.

"Joe," Mercedes spoke to the sick teen, "are you going to throw up again?"

He couldn't nod still. He didn't want too much movement in his body to cause him to vomit all in the car on the nice car seats and the clean windows. He would feel so guilty, especially after he would've heard the price Sam had to pay for the thing.

Joe responded with a gagging sound. The taste of whatever was coming out of his mouth was definitely not pleasant at the moment.

He could hear his father at the driver's wheel. "Babe, what's going on with Joe?" he asked, turning down another street.

"Sam, hurry. Joe says he's gonna throw up again."

Luckily, they were in the parking lot of the Charleston Hospital, the same place where Joe had been born fifteen years ago. Although they showed up there for check-ups and stuff for the dreadlocked boy, it didn't change a bit from when they saw it on the day of Joe's arrival.

The blonde man found the nearest parking space near one marked with a blue and white handicapped sign, and turned off the ignition. Everything seemed to be calmer now, for Joe. However, his stomach will not stop acting up with him, and about a handful of puke was going to eject out of his mouth. He really couldn't hold it in anymore.

Mercedes opened the car door, letting herself out first and then grabbing Joe's free hand to help him. She kept on gesturing to him to keep his mouth covered and no spew anything in the car seat. It was a difficult task for Joe, but he made it out okay.

"We're here, Joe," Mercedes told her worried son, who wandered for a free area on the ground to let out the poorly-digested food in his mouth. The woman turned back to Sam, who was still searching for the doctor's forms in the front seat beside him. "Sam, we've got to get going!"

Joe certainly knew that was true.

He wasn't going to wait on his father. He's been doing that for twenty minutes already, and he needs to get himself something soft and comfortable to lie down on – and somewhere he can toss this nasty substance that's swimming around in his mouth.

Unable to hold anything in anymore, he made it to a dirt patch where two small trees lay, and vomited out all that was stuck in his mouth. The taste was just as bad as him actually trying to spit it all out and get the germy sickness out of his system.

Mercedes picked up her feet and ran towards him, rubbing his back furiously and watching him throw up in the ground. The poor thing needed some medicine or something. She was positive that the doctors will work something out. They were bound to.

Sam, making it out of the car with a binder full of folders in his hands, spotted his wife and son over by the dirt patch, watching the sight in worry and anxiousness.

"Oh shit!" he called, running over to them to see if Joe was doing okay. Joe was too busy puking himself away that he didn't notice Sam say a curse word. He thought cursing was bad, so he never did it. But he never knew his dad did it.

Joe coughed a little, making sure he got it all out before his parents grabbed his arms and took him inside the building.

"Okay, let's go."

Worried out of her mind, Mercedes grabbed Joe's hand, helping the fragile boy walk from where he stood to the hospital entrance. Sam helped as well, taking Joe's other hand. He rubbed his back for support, and grabbed his arms for when they reached the stairs.

By the time they made it through the front doors, Sam rushed to the front counter, calling for help from any help from one of the employees.

"Help, help! My son – he needs help!" the blonde panicked. Joe hated seeing his father like this. It wasn't right. He was usually the one cheering him and his mother up when there were bad days. Sure, there were some impressions he did that Joe wasn't clear of, but he would play along with him.

Joe really wanted to cry at this moment. He fell to his knees, still holding onto Mercedes's hand, praying to God for some support and for one of these doctors to have the skill to bring his health back. He'd give up anything – his dreads, his guitar, his brown sandals he wore almost everywhere – anything! He just wanted God to hear his prayers and give him a helping hand.

"Joe," his mother called, kneeling down next to him. "Talk to me, Joe. What's going on?"

Her voice started to fade within the voices of doctors coming over to pick up Joe off the floor and rest him on the rolling cot that had just come to take him to his hospital room. The light from the ceiling that shone on Joe's face brought out some tears that he had been trying to hide for the whole car ride to the hospital. God, are you there? I pray to you, please let me live and help my family from this misery.

In less than a second, the doctors were rolling him down a hallway into the elevator. It was big inside, but it felt like Joe was crammed into something. He didn't like this feeling.

Above him, Sam was rubbing his son's shoulder. He couldn't even look him in the eye. Joe knew he had a weak spot in him somewhere, but he never really saw it. Sam tried so hard to hide it. He wanted to be strong for his only son. He wanted to prove he could do this. Fathers were supposed to be there to stay strong for their kids, right?

The elevator door opened, and the doctors were rolling Joe down another hallway. Mercedes and Sam tried to follow, but they were being stopped by a redheaded surgeon with her hair in a ponytail.

"Joseph!" Mercedes cried before the cot rolled through two push-through doors and heading to a surgery room.

Joe didn't like this at all. His parents were far away from him now. He didn't have them to hold his hands or anything. He was all alone with about three or four surgeons about to perform surgery on him. He couldn't do it. To make everything worse, the smell of the hospital itself was making him sick again.

He wanted out. He needed his parents. He needed a trash bin or a bucket.