Hi! Remember me? I'm baaack! Okay, sorry it's been a long time since I've last posted (assuming I've been missed...). Just hope you enjoy what I've written. :)
Chapter 10
"Man, where were you? Ain't nobody seen you all weekend," Julius exclaimed on Monday morning. He looked at his best friend and saw his broad shoulders sag, his short hair disheveled, and his lips pursed together with anxiety. Gerry slammed his car door shut, and turned to face Julius, the lines of sleepless nights hugging Gerry's usually bright eyes.
"Yeah, ain't nobody seen you, 'cept for when we visited Isabelle at the hospital," Petey agreed. He clapped a sympathetic hand on Gerry's shoulder. "You been out doin' some thinkin'?"
Gerry shook his head and locked his door. "No, I've been at the hospital with her. I stayed with her during visiting hours, and her mom and dad went home to take a shower, sleep, eat, and do whatever for a few hours. Hospital wouldn't let me stay after hours, so. . . that's when I left."
"How is she doing?"
He shrugged and started walking towards the school, and Julius and Petey followed. "She's doing all right, I guess." He looked away and sniffled quietly. "But, she just won't wake up."
"Well, at least she'll be stayin' put and not moving to California." Petey instantly regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth and Julius smacked him upside the head and glared at him. Petey glanced at Gerry, who looked like a little lost puppy and immediately apologized, "Oh, God, I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean for it to come out like that, I swear!"
Gerry held up his hand and nodded. "I know, Petey, I know." He kept walking, and Julius and Petey split up to walk on either side of him. "But, you know, I overheard her parents talking about the whole custody thing. You heard what Mrs. Brooke told him that night, right? It made him think and he apologized for his behavior. He really does love Isabelle, he just doesn't show it that well." He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and looked around him.
The colder weather of mid-autumn had settled upon Alexandria and jackets and parkas were out and about. The sky was a bright, vivid blue, with little gray clouds dotting the sky. Students poured all around the leaf covered campus, and the once luscious trees were practically bare. The early morning sun shone softly down on them and the cool, crisp breeze blew past them. Gerry scratched his head and took a deep breath.
"Mr. Brooke said that he would leave Mrs. Brooke and Isabelle alone, so long as she'd come visit him every now and then in California."
"Bertier seems out of it," Boone stated later that week, as he and Yoast adjourned that day's practice. He tucked his clipboard under his arm and the two men briskly walked back to their office.
"Don't blame him," Yoast responded, watching Sheryl skip ahead with the bag of footballs. "I been to the hospital and the Brookes' to visit Evelyn and Isabelle and she's been tellin' me that Gerry's at Isabelle's side during all visiting hours on the weekend, and right after practice during the weekday. I'm guessin', he comes home late, does his homework, and then comes to school the next day. Poor boy's worn out."
"He visits her everyday? What about the rest of the guys?"
"Evelyn told me that they visit her with Gerry every now and then, but they don't stick around as long as he does."
"Really. . ." Boone mused. "I never thought those two were that close."
"I never thought it either, Herman." He sighed as they approached their office, and Coach Yoast opened the door and stepped aside to usher Coach Boone and Sherly inside. "You have to admit though, Gerry's been doing a great job out on the field." He paused a moment. "Just like we wanted him to."
Later that week, Gerry came by the hospital after practice, just as usual. He had a few more presents for her tucked under his arm, that people from school had asked him to give to Isabelle. He caught his reflection before entering her room, and wiped a smudge of dirt off his face from football practice that day. Gerry quietly turned the knob of the door and entered the room. Her parents gathered their things, spoke a few words to him, and Mrs. Brooke slowly and reluctantly left her daughter's side.
"Why do you do this?" Mr. Brooke asked Gerry, before he left. He was touched by this young man's behavior, and it made him wonder why he would give up his evenings for Isabelle. Mr. Brooke was very much ashamed that someone who knew Isabelle for barely a month would spend every spare moment at her side, when he hardly gave his own daughter the time of day back in California.
"Do what?" Gerry asked, confused, as he arranged Isabelle's new gifts in her already overflowing room.
Mr. Brooke gestured to the sleeping girl. "This. Come here everyday after a hard day at school and spend all this time with her."
He shrugged and heaved a breath of air, pausing a moment to look at Isabelle. "I care a lot about her, Mr. Brooke. There ain't much to it, really. I just care about her a lot."
Mr. Brooke nodded distractedly and seemed lost in his own world; something that Gerry's noted him to do quite frequently. Unaware that Mr. Brooke had soon left, Gerry looked slowly around the room; the tables were overflowing with big bouquets of flowers and bunches of floating balloons, piles of stuffed animals were heaped by her night stand , get well cards and letters were stacked at the foot of her bed, and corners were filled with fruit and gift baskets. The dull walls of her room were now drowned out by the bright colors and patterns of all her get-well presents and the sterilized scent that used to hang above like a rain cloud, was wafted away by the sweet aromas of the fruit and the fragrant perfumes of her flowers.
"I wonder," he thought aloud, sitting down in a chair next to her, "what's going on in your head right now? Do you have dreams?" He grinned at her peaceful, sleeping face. Her scratches and bruises were rapidly fading away, and her cuts were healing without a trace. The swelling around her eye was down and gone, and the doctor said that the two fractured bones in her hand would be perfectly fine in the next few days. He leaned over and pulled a large card out from his backpack and opened it up.
"The guys wrote you little messages," he said. "Here, this one is from Petey. . ."
". . . and this one is from Julius. . ."
". . . this one is from Blue. . ."
". . . and Louie. . ."
". . . and this lengthy one with the little surfboard is from Sunshine," Gerry laughed, as he started reading the message.
". . . and this one is from me. . ."
Gerry froze and felt the hairs on his neck perk up and he slowly looked at Isabelle as she moved her head a little. Her hand twitched, as if she were looking for someone and Gerry slowly took it. He was caught up in a confusing tornado of emotions; he knew he should go get a nurse or a doctor, but at the same time, he didn't want to leave her side. He stood up and bent over her, as Isabelle's lips began moving.
He felt a rush of relief and joy sweep over him, as he attempted to say something to her. "Isabelle! Isabelle, it's me; Gerry." He stared down at her and watched as she slowly opened her eyes. She squinted at the bright lighting and blinked a few times until the blurred images became clear. As she regained consciousness, Isabelle could feel the pain starting to trickle into her limbs from her injuries and she winced.
"Where am I? What's going on? What happened?" She looked up into his familiar face and she smiled and softly uttered his name, then watched as his grin twitched and then fade away to sadness. "What happened?"
"You were in a car accident almost a week ago," he began. "It was a really bad wreck."
"Almost a week ago?" He looked down into her frightened, confused eyes and almost didn't want to tell her what had happened. He wanted to avoid that awful memory at all costs.
"Isabelle, you've been in a coma."
"A coma?" She turned her head away, shocked, and let the news sink as she looked out the window where the big trees stood tall in the pink and orange sky as the sun was started to set. She longed to be with the calmness and peacefulness of what she was staring at; there was just too much drama going on in her life right now-a brush with death was the last thing she had needed. Isabelle turned her head back to Gerry and looked up into his warm brown eyes. "Why are you here?" she asked. "I thought you were mad at me."
"That ain't important anymore," he said gently. "What's important is you and that you're awake now. Any fight between us is forgotten now, I hope." He smiled and kissed the top of her forehead. He peered into her fuzzy brown eyes as she still tried to gain some sort of order in her mind. Her thoughts buzzed with confusion and emotions tumbled onto her from all sorts of directions as her thoughts of what Gerry told her spun in a vicious whirlwind ; it was all a little much for her to take in. "I'm going to go find your doctor, all right? You gonna be okay here by yourself for a minute?"
"You'll come back, though, right?"
He smiled affectionately and touched her cheek, "Of course." He left her room and quickly went in search of her doctor. As he sped down the brightly lit white tiles of the beige colored hallways, past machines and nurses and doctors, Gerry started to realize just how short life was. He was aware of the saying and it's truth, but it never quite sunk into his mind like it did now. He looked up and spotted the familiar gray-haired doctor that attended to Isabelle down the hall, and quickened his step to catch up with him. Life's too short to wait around and think and act confused about your feelings, he thought. You know what you feel and you gotta go with it. And it's about time I take my own advice.
Chapter 10
"Man, where were you? Ain't nobody seen you all weekend," Julius exclaimed on Monday morning. He looked at his best friend and saw his broad shoulders sag, his short hair disheveled, and his lips pursed together with anxiety. Gerry slammed his car door shut, and turned to face Julius, the lines of sleepless nights hugging Gerry's usually bright eyes.
"Yeah, ain't nobody seen you, 'cept for when we visited Isabelle at the hospital," Petey agreed. He clapped a sympathetic hand on Gerry's shoulder. "You been out doin' some thinkin'?"
Gerry shook his head and locked his door. "No, I've been at the hospital with her. I stayed with her during visiting hours, and her mom and dad went home to take a shower, sleep, eat, and do whatever for a few hours. Hospital wouldn't let me stay after hours, so. . . that's when I left."
"How is she doing?"
He shrugged and started walking towards the school, and Julius and Petey followed. "She's doing all right, I guess." He looked away and sniffled quietly. "But, she just won't wake up."
"Well, at least she'll be stayin' put and not moving to California." Petey instantly regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth and Julius smacked him upside the head and glared at him. Petey glanced at Gerry, who looked like a little lost puppy and immediately apologized, "Oh, God, I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean for it to come out like that, I swear!"
Gerry held up his hand and nodded. "I know, Petey, I know." He kept walking, and Julius and Petey split up to walk on either side of him. "But, you know, I overheard her parents talking about the whole custody thing. You heard what Mrs. Brooke told him that night, right? It made him think and he apologized for his behavior. He really does love Isabelle, he just doesn't show it that well." He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and looked around him.
The colder weather of mid-autumn had settled upon Alexandria and jackets and parkas were out and about. The sky was a bright, vivid blue, with little gray clouds dotting the sky. Students poured all around the leaf covered campus, and the once luscious trees were practically bare. The early morning sun shone softly down on them and the cool, crisp breeze blew past them. Gerry scratched his head and took a deep breath.
"Mr. Brooke said that he would leave Mrs. Brooke and Isabelle alone, so long as she'd come visit him every now and then in California."
"Bertier seems out of it," Boone stated later that week, as he and Yoast adjourned that day's practice. He tucked his clipboard under his arm and the two men briskly walked back to their office.
"Don't blame him," Yoast responded, watching Sheryl skip ahead with the bag of footballs. "I been to the hospital and the Brookes' to visit Evelyn and Isabelle and she's been tellin' me that Gerry's at Isabelle's side during all visiting hours on the weekend, and right after practice during the weekday. I'm guessin', he comes home late, does his homework, and then comes to school the next day. Poor boy's worn out."
"He visits her everyday? What about the rest of the guys?"
"Evelyn told me that they visit her with Gerry every now and then, but they don't stick around as long as he does."
"Really. . ." Boone mused. "I never thought those two were that close."
"I never thought it either, Herman." He sighed as they approached their office, and Coach Yoast opened the door and stepped aside to usher Coach Boone and Sherly inside. "You have to admit though, Gerry's been doing a great job out on the field." He paused a moment. "Just like we wanted him to."
Later that week, Gerry came by the hospital after practice, just as usual. He had a few more presents for her tucked under his arm, that people from school had asked him to give to Isabelle. He caught his reflection before entering her room, and wiped a smudge of dirt off his face from football practice that day. Gerry quietly turned the knob of the door and entered the room. Her parents gathered their things, spoke a few words to him, and Mrs. Brooke slowly and reluctantly left her daughter's side.
"Why do you do this?" Mr. Brooke asked Gerry, before he left. He was touched by this young man's behavior, and it made him wonder why he would give up his evenings for Isabelle. Mr. Brooke was very much ashamed that someone who knew Isabelle for barely a month would spend every spare moment at her side, when he hardly gave his own daughter the time of day back in California.
"Do what?" Gerry asked, confused, as he arranged Isabelle's new gifts in her already overflowing room.
Mr. Brooke gestured to the sleeping girl. "This. Come here everyday after a hard day at school and spend all this time with her."
He shrugged and heaved a breath of air, pausing a moment to look at Isabelle. "I care a lot about her, Mr. Brooke. There ain't much to it, really. I just care about her a lot."
Mr. Brooke nodded distractedly and seemed lost in his own world; something that Gerry's noted him to do quite frequently. Unaware that Mr. Brooke had soon left, Gerry looked slowly around the room; the tables were overflowing with big bouquets of flowers and bunches of floating balloons, piles of stuffed animals were heaped by her night stand , get well cards and letters were stacked at the foot of her bed, and corners were filled with fruit and gift baskets. The dull walls of her room were now drowned out by the bright colors and patterns of all her get-well presents and the sterilized scent that used to hang above like a rain cloud, was wafted away by the sweet aromas of the fruit and the fragrant perfumes of her flowers.
"I wonder," he thought aloud, sitting down in a chair next to her, "what's going on in your head right now? Do you have dreams?" He grinned at her peaceful, sleeping face. Her scratches and bruises were rapidly fading away, and her cuts were healing without a trace. The swelling around her eye was down and gone, and the doctor said that the two fractured bones in her hand would be perfectly fine in the next few days. He leaned over and pulled a large card out from his backpack and opened it up.
"The guys wrote you little messages," he said. "Here, this one is from Petey. . ."
". . . and this one is from Julius. . ."
". . . this one is from Blue. . ."
". . . and Louie. . ."
". . . and this lengthy one with the little surfboard is from Sunshine," Gerry laughed, as he started reading the message.
". . . and this one is from me. . ."
Gerry froze and felt the hairs on his neck perk up and he slowly looked at Isabelle as she moved her head a little. Her hand twitched, as if she were looking for someone and Gerry slowly took it. He was caught up in a confusing tornado of emotions; he knew he should go get a nurse or a doctor, but at the same time, he didn't want to leave her side. He stood up and bent over her, as Isabelle's lips began moving.
He felt a rush of relief and joy sweep over him, as he attempted to say something to her. "Isabelle! Isabelle, it's me; Gerry." He stared down at her and watched as she slowly opened her eyes. She squinted at the bright lighting and blinked a few times until the blurred images became clear. As she regained consciousness, Isabelle could feel the pain starting to trickle into her limbs from her injuries and she winced.
"Where am I? What's going on? What happened?" She looked up into his familiar face and she smiled and softly uttered his name, then watched as his grin twitched and then fade away to sadness. "What happened?"
"You were in a car accident almost a week ago," he began. "It was a really bad wreck."
"Almost a week ago?" He looked down into her frightened, confused eyes and almost didn't want to tell her what had happened. He wanted to avoid that awful memory at all costs.
"Isabelle, you've been in a coma."
"A coma?" She turned her head away, shocked, and let the news sink as she looked out the window where the big trees stood tall in the pink and orange sky as the sun was started to set. She longed to be with the calmness and peacefulness of what she was staring at; there was just too much drama going on in her life right now-a brush with death was the last thing she had needed. Isabelle turned her head back to Gerry and looked up into his warm brown eyes. "Why are you here?" she asked. "I thought you were mad at me."
"That ain't important anymore," he said gently. "What's important is you and that you're awake now. Any fight between us is forgotten now, I hope." He smiled and kissed the top of her forehead. He peered into her fuzzy brown eyes as she still tried to gain some sort of order in her mind. Her thoughts buzzed with confusion and emotions tumbled onto her from all sorts of directions as her thoughts of what Gerry told her spun in a vicious whirlwind ; it was all a little much for her to take in. "I'm going to go find your doctor, all right? You gonna be okay here by yourself for a minute?"
"You'll come back, though, right?"
He smiled affectionately and touched her cheek, "Of course." He left her room and quickly went in search of her doctor. As he sped down the brightly lit white tiles of the beige colored hallways, past machines and nurses and doctors, Gerry started to realize just how short life was. He was aware of the saying and it's truth, but it never quite sunk into his mind like it did now. He looked up and spotted the familiar gray-haired doctor that attended to Isabelle down the hall, and quickened his step to catch up with him. Life's too short to wait around and think and act confused about your feelings, he thought. You know what you feel and you gotta go with it. And it's about time I take my own advice.
