Chapter Ten. N.
About an hour later, Church sat down next to Tucker in the cafeteria, his eyes red and puffy and his stomaching churning. Tear production had seized and his body felt weak like an infant's. Tucker looked similarly bad, only he wasn't pale like Church.
They could hear people chatting, trays moving and shoes scoffing every so often. Every once in awhile fancy shoes on the tile that was probably a woman's high heels.
Sitting was about the only thing Church could do to stop himself from curling into a ball and wasting himself. Tucker found some way to speak though, "You should go see Noah." Tucker's force to speak surprised himself almost as much as Church.
Noah, Noah, Noah. Church could barely comprehend the name. That baby had killed his love. He couldn't bear to think of seeing him. No, he couldn't see him. "He's beautiful Church."
They both said nothing as Tucker stared at him, knowing how he was feeling by the angered expression. "You have to see him, Church, he's your son and this isn't his fault." Church just glared at Tucker as if he was suggesting he go rob someone. "Go, please?" Why was he begging? This was none of his business.
Church wanted to smack him across the face, but he couldn't even if he had tried. He didn't have the strength. "Please?" Tucker begged again and Church could tell he was desperate this time.
"I don't know if I can…" Tucker stood.
"Let's go." Without a second to respond, Tucker was already leading him to the nursery.
When they got to the entrance, Church saw a son and daughter looking through the window and pointing happily, both of them grinning. He hated them now, today was suppose to be the happiest day of his life, but instead it was the worst. And just the fact that those people were happy stun him deep enough for him to recoil. "No, we're almost there." Tucker grabbing him by his wrist and pulling him forward. "C'mon Church."
When they reached the doors, Tucker opened it for him. "Go on."
"Tucker..." he stopped him from protesting.
"Go."
"You're not coming with me?" Tucker shook his head.
"No, you have to do this alone." Church felt like dying. The least Tucker could do was come along.
"Please come with me."
"No, you have to go alone."
"Please," Church whispered, but Tucker pushed him through the doors and shut them. A nurse walked over to Church immediately.
"Come with me, Leonard." She led him passed babies in their pink or blue blanks and hats and then to one with the name, Noah Church, on the back. Church looked in.
The baby----his baby-----looked beautiful. He noticed he seemed to resemble him just as much as he did Tex. How could this have happened? Tex should be there with him, but she couldn't. Church spoke before thinking:
"Can I hold him?" The nurse nodded and picked up Noah who was wrapped in a blue blanket and had a blue hat on.
"Just sit down and I'll pass him to you." He sat down in a rocking chair without a second thought and the nurse passed Noah to him.
The instant he looked down to him, his anger was gone. Now all that was left was his grief. It wasn't his fault. No, it never had been. Then he looked to see Tucker watching him through a window on the door. He looked like he was crying, but Church couldn't tell. Nor did he care to.
"I think I have a perfect middle name for you," he paused, looking at him. "Beth. Noah Beth Church."
Everything seemed to move too fast from there on. Church could barely describe any of it. He had to learn to take care of Noah while dealing with his love's death, he had to juggle with work and deal with Wash. Wash was the hardest thing he remembers.
Wash had found out and told him about everything. He had been planning to still reprogram him and let the Director go. Church remembers telling Wash to run his sorry ass home before he kicked his ass and Wash polity accepted.
Tucker stayed with him until the funeral was over and then took off for Detroit because he couldn't stand to be there. But he said that he was sorry before leaving and wished Church luck. Caboose came down for a week, but left because he said he hated babies. Sister stopped by for a couple of days and helped him babysit and then promptly left as he expected. Simmons stopped by and stayed for a couple of weeks before he had to leave for a science convention in Toronto. Sarge stopped by and stayed for a month before he returned to his wife---Jen---in Idaho. The Director----in an attempt to make peace----stayed for one week. Lastly Donut stayed for three months before he had to go home to see his parents, but promised to come back soon.
Once everyone was gone, Church fell into a regular routine he liked a lot more than having visitors all the time at least. His days were jam-packed to the max and some nights he never slept at all. Others he would lay awake thinking of Tex or others he'd swear he heard her voice; so fluent, pure and clear, but angry. His mind would race with thoughts hours afterward and sometimes---depending on when he'd heard it---he wouldn't sleep again after that. One time he was up for two days in a row until he finally passed out completely on his bed.
But minus having those issues, everything seemed to be moving along smoothly to his surprise.
Noah had smiled at him for the first time and he had gotten a promotion. None of it made sense to him, though. What had he done to get this life? He sure hadn't done anything heroic or goodhearted. At moments like that, he reminded himself that he was alone; all he had was Noah. Without him, he was lost. Basically, without his job and his son, Church would have curled up into a ball and died a long time ago. So he threw himself into what he had left: work, cleaning, arguing with neighbors, arguing with Caboose over the phone, Noah and arguing with everyone else.
But he found it hard one day, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand on a crisp and cool morning.
What was going to happen to him? He couldn't continue hiding forever, could he? Could he just hang out doing what he was doing forever? No, Noah would grow and need him less and less, work would never get more entertaining, cleaning was just a dead end, he would lose things to argue about and those long distance calls to Caboose were running up his phone bill. He couldn't stay this way forever. Something would have to change at some point to spice up his routine. A woman, a voice echoed in his head that sounded like no one he knew. No, he thought, how could he ever find another woman to live up to the expectations he had for Tex? How could anyone else ever live up to her in his mind? The thought scared him more than never changing at all. But, he thought, what would Tex want him to do? It was a tough question, but the answer was obvious.
And somehow he tried to avoid it and shook his head, clearing it of the thoughts as he heard Noah begin to cry in the other room. Church stood before he heard what sounded like the rocking chair in his room creak and the crying seized. What was going on in there? Church asked himself that more than once quietly as he crept in.
The floor was creaking under his feet and he could also still hear the rocking chair. As he entered, he saw nothing out of the ordinary; just Noah sleeping in his crib.
Wait, sleeping? Hadn't he just been crying? Church looked around the room as if he thought someone had broken in.
Nothing, everything was normal. Had he imagined that sound? Was it just his insanity kicking in? Or had he heard it?
He shook his head and kissed Noah's head before sitting down in the rocking chair.
After a moment, he noticed two things: one, the chair wasn't creaking, two, he could smell lilacs. He looked around again; still, nothing unusual.
Then it hit him, lilacs was Tex's perfume. Why on earth could he smell it like she was sitting on his lap? He hadn't touched the bottle since she'd passed. It made no sense. He had to be insane. That was his only logical explanation. Though, did logic ever apply to him or her? No, no it didn't, he thought and shook it off and headed back to the dining room. He grabbed the paper and set his coffee in front of him. On the front page was about a bad storm coming in from the gulf predicted to hit this afternoon. He'd be at work and wasn't looking forward to driving home in it. He looked down to see an article of the Director. He was doing some Go Green work in Utah.
Then he saw one about a man who had shot his wife to death while intoxicated. It hurt him. How could someone have done that? Church could have never laid a finger on Tex, mot even if he'd wanted to. Somehow, he found her to be fragile even though he knew she was anything but. But. But. Maybe she was. How could he have known for sure? Sure, she'd passed away, but that had nothing to do with if she was fragile or not. That was just a rare accident and no one was responsible as he'd first believed. It wasn't Tex's or his or Noah's fault. No, it was none of their faults. He couldn't help but wondered what would have happened if she'd never gotten pregnant though. Would she still be alive? Or would her weird disease have killed her off?
He shook his head.
There was really no way of telling.
He turned the page and saw there was an article about new homes. Would he ever buy a house? Maybe, it kind of depended if he ever had a reason to. If it was always just him and Noah he would just stay here. If he somehow fell in love again, he might move then. But he doubted that anyway. Love wasn't exactly a subject of discussion for him right now.
Now he closed the newspaper and sighed and took a sip of his coffee. It seemed to burn his throat and he looked around, suddenly feeling like he was being watched.
He shook his head and then heard a knock at the door. When he opened it, no one was there. "Real funny," he murmured, but when he turned around, a ghostly face was meeting his. It didn't seem to resemble anyone he knew and he immediately recoiled and felt adrenaline rush into his veins. "What the hell!?" he shouted as it neared.
He started running down the hallway with his legs feeling heavier by the moment. It chased him and he looked to the stair, but when he reached them, they were gone. "Huh?" Suddenly he turned, feeling cooler and saw the ghost in his face.
It pushed him down what looked like a never ending pit of despair. "Ah!" He grabbed the edge and held on for dear life with one hand; but after a moment, his hand slipped and he started falling.
He suddenly woke up from his nightmare, sitting at the kitchen table with his head on the newspaper, Noah crying, his phone ringing and someone knocking at the door.
How long had he been asleep? He looked at his coffee that was still steaming.
He must have fallen sleep after checking on Noah.
First he answered the phone while heading to Noah "Hello?" he must have sounded like he hadn't slept in ten days.
"It's Faith, are you okay? I've been knocking for twenty minutes and called you twice." He rubbed his face, feeling defeated and walked to the crib. "Leonard, you there?" Had he heard her? "You're acting strange today." He yawned and put the pacifier back in Noah's mouth, but he spit it back out.
"Yes, I am dammit. Just leave me alone, I'll let you in. Just give me one damn second." She noted he seemed to be in a bad mood.
"Okay, I'll be waiting outside." He then hung up and picked up Noah.
"Come on, Buddy." He walked to the door an opened it. Faith—Noah's babysitter---was standing outside. She had darker skin then him, black hair to her elbows, brown eyes and was wearing a light blue tee-shirt, blue jeans and pink sandals. "Hey." She walked in.
"Hey, Leonard, shouldn't you be dressed for work?" He knew he should be.
"Yeah, I fell asleep at the table, but I'm going to change now." He passed crying Noah to her and took off to the bedroom.
Upon opening the closet, he couldn't help but notice Tex's clothes inside. It took a moment before he dug his work clothes from inside and changed-----a blue button up, tan pants and brown shoes. He tucked his shirt in before grabbing a black bag and stopped himself from crying. The closet door squeaked when he closed it as he walked to the door without a word, looking back to see Faith holding Noah and feeding him a bottle.
That should be Tex, he thought, she deserves to be the one standing there with him in her arms.
With a sigh, he dragged himself from the apartment and took off for work. Still his chest hurt for the most part as he thought about Tex the whole way.
He saw people holding hands in the park, people dining together at a café and families at the beach. Church was reminded of his dream that had now become more of a nightmare. Every time he saw families on the beach, he remembered. He didn't want to of course, but did he have a choice? Not really. His thoughts seemed to do what they wanted for now. Maybe they'd settle down someday.
The work day went as usual.
When he looked out the window on his way out, it was pouring, the wind was at least sixty miles per hour, the sky black and the window was freezing, meaning it was probably colder outside.
With a sigh, he walked down the stairs and through the lobby to the exit. He felt like he'd just been shut in a freezer instantly as the rain hit him with the gusty winds and he heard thunder sound as he got in his car, slamming the door. After a moment to get back some body temperature, he started the car before shifting on the air conditioner. It blew cold air in his face that was covered in water droplets, causing him to snarl before repositioning it to point away. After a moment he clutched the steering wheel like mother clutched a child.
He wasn't going to lie, he was nervous driving in storms like these.
He sighed and backed out, and then pulled from the parking lot and started down the road to his apartment. It was currently an hour and a half drive, and he was nervous for it to be honest.
As he drove he saw trees swaying in the wind and some kids almost moving in the wind by the gas station as they hung onto their parent's hand. Though he wasn't worried about any of that. What he was worried about was himself.
When driving down a country road, he had to go through that had a lot of deer. Two people had died trying to avoid them in the past month. Mostly because hunting season was nearing and they hadn't been hunted for awhile.
Twenty minutes later—when he turned onto the road---he tightened his grip on the steering wheel and watched the road carefully.
Would he try and avoid one? Or would he just try and run it over? Neither was something he wanted to do. If he tried to avoid one, he could crash; if he tried to run one over, he could crash too, and plus, he would certainly kill it. Nothing he wanted to face. It's one of the major fears that come with driving and it increases when you're a single parent. If he got killed, his son would only have his godfather, Tucker. Not something he wanted either of them to face.
Church shook his head from those thoughts. How could he think those things?
When the rain increased in intensity and the wind picked up, his visibility got worse than it already was. He cursed under his breath more than once before the visibility became lost and he had to rely on memory and the yellow lines that seemed almost a mile apart at that moment.
He looked to the windshield to see enough to not have to use the yellow lines. Maybe he was at the front system, but he couldn't tell. How could he?
Then in an instant, he came face to face with his worst nightmare----the unexpected and unimaginable. A woman had accidentally stopped in the middle of the road and her young daughter about seven was with her.
He had to turn, there was no other options.
So he quickly hit the brakes and turned his steering wheel as fast as he could. His car slid and hit a slight bump in the road, causing it to go rolling as the mother and daughter ducked just in time for the car to flip over head. When it stopped it stopped right-side up. He just looked around before feeling pain in his head and legs. He felt wind and rain blowing through his window.
His head felt heavy and his vision was going black. He sat up from the steering wheel and saw blood on it and he felt some run down his face.
He moaned softly and felt everything go dull before his vision went black.
The next thing he remembered, was waking up in the emergency room with nurses running around him and hovering above; his head felt foggy and his vision was still almost blind. He couldn't speak either and his heart rate seemed irregularly slowed. He couldn't draw in a breath and pain shot through his body with every movement he attempted.
A nurse grabbed his hand and spoke, but it sounded like he was underwater. Then a doctor hovered above him with a light, flashing it in his eyes. He couldn't shut them no matter how hard he tried because the light hurt. His hearing suddenly started to return and his senses start to return also. "Can you hear us?" The doctor asked and Church moaned.
"Y...es..." The doctor nodded.
"Can you move?" he moved his hand, but a shooting pain shot through him. "Okay, just stay still. Everything is going to be." Then Church went black again.
When he woke, he was sitting down staring straight to a TV and open door. His body felt weaker than after running around Dallas twice, his head hurt and his vision was still a bit blurry. When he tried to move, he felt pain rush through his entire body.
Then he heard Tucker. "Don't try and move, you got your ass kicked." Church moaned and Tucker stood. "Just don't try and do anything."
"How...how long have I been out?" his voice was faint and barely loud enough to be called a whisper.
"Four hours." Church looked to the clock above the TV and his neck started to burn: seven PM.
"Tucker...call the babysitter..." Tucker smiled.
"Already done." Church would have cocked an eye brow if he could have. "I called shortly after I came here." Church didn't question any further on the subject. "You had a gash on your forehead and your legs were pretty screwed up." Tucker couldn't tell if he was listening, but decided to continue. "You have a mild concussion and they figure you'll be in the hospital for about three days." Church was surprised at how informed he was. Not anything like him. Usually he was uninformed. But Church wasn't complaining, hell he liked this Tucker better anyway.
Everything seemed to move quickly after that again. Doctors and nurses coming and going like wild animals in the forest. He had one broken leg, he got dizzy easily and his neck was sore from getting a bit of whiplash. But he headed home accordingly and had help from Tucker getting up the stairs, who also agreed to help out until he was able to walk down the stairs. It was going to be awhile---Tucker wasn't that retarded---but he was willing to stay. It's not like he couldn't do anything here that he could in Detroit. All he cares about is picking up---or more flirting---with women and the dating scene may even be better in Texas.
After getting settled, Church called an attorney. He wasn't too fond of the idea about suing those people, but he couldn't pay all the bills alone. He was a single father and that just wasn't an option. So he called and arranged a meeting. They met the next day over lunch across the apartment. It went fairly well through Church's eyes and they discussed the important topics first. Then they moved to smaller details. Everything seemed to move smoothly and perfectly, and when they met in court, everything ended just as well. The family agreed to pay and everything.
I guess it depends on what you call end well, though. Church was still lonely and after his leg recovered, Tucker left again, leaving him to his same schedule as before. Working sixteen hours and seven days and lying awake all night. Nothing seemed to have changed at all too much of Church's disappointment. He still lay awake daydreaming of Tex and if he did fall asleep, he had nightmares.
Why had this happened to him? What sin was so bad to cause this? What had he done?
On a warm night, Church did something he hadn't done in over a thousand years. He got down at the foot of his bed and prayed for forgiveness. Prayed harder than he ever had before. Then as he lay in bed, he actually fell asleep.
Had it worked? He doubted it. Church wasn't religious and truly wasn't a firm believer in God or faith. All it seemed like to him was lies people told themselves to stay out of a mental health clinic. But he had tried, hoping somehow just maybe...