Chapter 22
Alex:
He woke the next day and
we were again allowed
to see him, but he still
had the fever and was barely conscious to even recognise us. It was
painful to
watch him, muttering, tossing turning, whimpering from pain, finally
staying
still, looking at us through half opened eyes without a sign of
recognition. He
was trembling and finally crying out in fear, sheer panic taking over
which
alerted the nurses, even awake he was reliving his nightmare.
Pain, tears, fear, we
were led back out. Such
confusion, all I could
hear was his desperate cries ringing in my head, the panic on his
features.
Saara was trembling all over, again we could only wait and I held her
against
my chest to comfort, the next days went by in haze, after I would not
remember
single thing from them except the worry, brief times when we were
allowed to
see him; times when he was sedated and sleeping.
And then the fever
finally dropped, still it
took time before we were
allowed to see him; the not knowing what was going on was the worst.
Fourth day, they said he
was physically better;
fever had dropped but he
wasn’t responding to any questions, didn’t speak,
their
hope laid on us now.
The nurse lead us to
him, and I felt the hope
waking in my heart when I
saw him awake more conscious then before, the backrest of the bed
lifted, so he
was in half sitting position, his gaze was drawn to the window but he
did not
turn even when we entered. The young woman tried to smile softly.
“Jonas, you
have visitors,” she
spoke in English approaching, “how are
you feeling?”
No response, no nothing,
I saw him blink but his
gaze was still outside
where the greyness had slowly started to fall apart.
“I’ll
come back later,” the
nurse said after awhile and gave us sad and almost
apologetic smile.
Saara nodded dully, the
corners of her lips
twisted up but it hardly
resembled a smile though I know it was what she had tried.
“Joonas,
äiti on
tässä,” she spoke approaching the bed,
“Joonas?” she
called and settled the flowers that she had bought into a vase onto the
table
next to him.
After awhile slowly he
turned his face to her,
his expression blank,
dull eyes that stared as if not recognising, as if not really looking
at her
but somewhere past her, his expression held the empty look and he
resumed back to
watching out from the window.
Saara started to cry and
I wasn’t far from
joining but I was able to
hold back, fear and confusion spreading through my body, I had been
prepared
him to be scared and vulnerable, cry and perhaps even escape my touch,
but this
hollow shell of my love that I received instead was even worse.
“Jonas?”
I tried in turn, coming
closer still, “we brought you some chocolate as well, would
you
like some?” No
response, the pain in my heart spread, my desperation urging me to
shake him,
anything to get some reaction! “Jonas?” My voice
was
pleading, silence; heavy
and thick making it difficult to breath.
There he was, right in
front of us, his physical
self, here close enough
to touch but the person I loved trapped somewhere in his mind, and I
wanted to
reach out, call him, shake him, scream in despair just to bring him
back, he
had to be there, had to!
Just what had they done
to him? Haze, the room
shifting in my eyes,
voices, I kept looking at Joonas, the dull gaze locked on his features,
Saara’s
voice… The nurse was back; in the end I don’t even
remember when we left the
room.
Next
thing I
registered was that
we were talking with some woman, psychiatric who tried to explain the
state of
Joonas’ mind to us, I don’t think I understood half
of it,
it felt too complex
too difficult and my mind was too distracted; I wanted my husband back,
I
wanted to hear him speak, smile, laugh…
There was no justice; no
punishment would be
enough to make it right, I
dimly realised that I would never have back what I had, with great pain
I
realised just how long the road would be and I already felt exhausted,
still I
wanted him back and I wanted to keep trying, too early to give up;
stubborn
hope, thank god for that! The foolish hope was only thing that kept me
from
falling a part.
I don’t think
we talked much with Saara,
if we did I hardly remember the
conversations, we tried to cope, later Joonas’ father and
sister
flew over, the
apartment felt small with them there, and part of me felt thankful of
their
presence while other wanted to drive them away to be able to have space
for my
thoughts; moments when I wanted to scream and break everything to
pieces, give
up and stay in bed…
They did ask me if
I’d prefer them to stay
in a hotel, said they would
understand, but every time I declined that option.
Following days I got
used to coming and going in
hospital, Jonas was
moved in to department that could better focus on mental health part
while his
body still needed to recover as well, sometimes I was allowed to stay
alone
with him, other times his family visited, sometimes the psychiatric was
there,
he hadn’t talked, but at least he seemed to be more aware of
his
surroundings
and when I read a book to him I could see he was listening and his
silence
started to annoy me even though I knew I couldn’t lash out
about
it; he would
talk when he would feel comfortable.
I tried to keep some
sort of false cheerfulness
in my monologues to him,
talked about everything possible, things of Taffy, of home, of plans to
the
future, school anything that would have nothing to do with what
happened to
him; one day he would answer I kept thinking, had to keep believing in
it!
In the end it seems that
Jonas won’t be
required to testify, they have
enough evidence against the two and the prosecutor raised the charges
against
them.
The trial is near and
Jonas still hasn’t
spoken, often he doesn’t even
look at us, almost as if our presence would sometimes annoy him and
even small
things like that comes something I feel happy about; reaction, any
reaction
just take the dullness away!
The days go by, his
bruises fade, I miss the
brightness of his eyes,
miss his voice, and miss him so badly…
Another day by his side,
reading a book to him,
my eyes burning from
tears and exhaustion which makes me stop for awhile to try and rub the
fatigue
away.
I place the book away
and walk towards the
window; gaze outside to the
morning mist, first rays of sun, and the slowly warming days of spring.
Just a
year ago I didn’t even know him, a year and my life has
changed
so drastically.
I would indeed be lying if I said that I don’t sometimes
think
how easier my
life would be had I never met him at all. I wouldn’t know
this
pain that I feel
now … I glance at him quickly before drifting my gaze back
outside; I wouldn’t
know this love either, I wouldn’t know it was possible, I
love
him and I have
this pain, something that will never fade just because I know how he
hurts and
how he or I can never reach the normality. The scars won’t
disappear not even
with time, they may change, but they will stay.
“We should
take a trip, you and I,”
I start still looking outside, “when
you get better that is, somewhere secluded and peaceful, rent a small
house,” I
know I don’t have the money for it, still I want to dream
about
it, perhaps ask
for a loan if possible, “take Taffy with us, some place warm,
perhaps in
Thailand? We could swim and just relax, get away from this
all…” I picture it,
picture us happy, Joonas laughing and talking, recovering, I feel first
tears
running down on my cheeks and I keep my gaze outside. The pain spreads,
my
shoulders feel heavy, “perhaps we could stay there
longer,”
I continue wanting to
create a picture of a happier life that I could keep to get by this,
“explore
the nature and we could learn to scuba dive, I remember you said
you’d like to
one day.”
I try to paint the
picture for him, keep going
on about the dream, I
just want him back, want it to be normal.
“Alex…”
Just a whisper,
barely loud enough to be able to hear, with
surprise I turn around and see him looking at me, his hands resting on
his lap,
his expression both serious and sad. For a moment I blink,
it’s
been weeks and
now…
I move closer, take a
seat down and reach for
his hand, trembling, just
a whisper… my name… tears start to follow down
and I look
up; his skin is so
pale, the sadness quivering as something aching to fear steps in and he
pulls
his hand carefully away from my hold, he shakes his head softly,
“You should
not be here…”
another whisper, his eyes no longer hold my
gaze.
“Jo,
god… I miss you… talk
to me… please… “ I beg with weak voice
aching
to touch him, partly wondering if I’m only dreaming, his
voice
still sounds so
weak.
“You should
not be here…” He
repeats looking out from the window.
“What do you
mean? Of course I should!
You’re my husband, I’ve been so
worried. Please Jo… Please just keep talking…
I’m
here…”
“It’s
gone…” He
whispers, not looking at me but outside. I frown not
understanding.
“What
is?”
“Everything…nothing…
there’s nothing…”
“I
don’t understand,
Jo…” His voice sounds so strange, so
hollow….
I’m
aching to touch him demand explanation, shake him to the person I can
more
easily recognise.
“Can’t
be fixed…” He
shakes his head, starts playing with his wedding
ring, moving it up and down on his slender finger.
“We help you,
with time it will get
better, trust me… we can fix this…”
“No…”
He sighs,
“it’s no use…no use… you
shouldn’t be
here… what you are
looking for is no longer here…”
“Jo…
please…” I reach
for his hand and squeeze it tightly, lower my head
on his stomach, my other hand goes to his arm, wanting to hold him,
bring him
back and to my surprise he stays still under my touch doesn’t
attempt escape, I
can hear his breathing, feel his warmth, he’s gotten so much
thinner.
“Alex…”
Such empty voice, I
keep holding on, his words are not the ones
I want to hear. “I can’t go
back….” He
continues, “I can’t fix it.”
“We can,
together…” I insist,
suddenly feel his hand on my hair, hand
that urges me to lift my head up; hint of sadness behind the hollowness
of his
eyes; no longer as bright blue as before.
“It’s
too late…” He
whispers looks down at his hand and slowly pulls his
wedding ring off and all I can do is watch in some kind of state of
shock as his
weak hand takes the hold of my own and closes his ring inside my palm.
“…you
have to let go.”
Too sudden, I shake my
head; feel tears falling
from my eyes looking at
the ring then at him.
“You
can’t do this…
don’t do this!” I want to shout, but manage to hold
myself; still my voice is tense and pleading.
“It’s
the right thing…”
He whispers brokenly, “I can’t be who I
was… I
can’t be your husband… it’s
gone…”
“I’ll
wait, Jonas, as long as it
takes, I’ll wait! I love you!”
“Alex, I
can’t…” He
whispers looking tired, “I can’t,” he
repeats,
“I-
have to go…”
I frown at this,
“you’re not making
any sense!” My voice angry and sad
at the same time, his eyes still hold that dull look and I hate it! I
want to
shake it out bring him back to me.
“I just
can’t… I don’t
want to be here… I can’t breath here,
I’m
choking… I can’t…” He shakes
his head softly.
I take his hand hold it
and hold his gaze.
“I am your husband, we are
married,” I state firmly, “we get through this
together! I
can’t let you slip
away from me.”
“Your husband
is dead Alex.” He
whispers, “I’m not him, what you look
for is gone, can’t you see?” Slowly he pulls his
hand away,
rest them both on
his stomach. “I can’t breath here, I have to
go.”
I look at the ring on my
palm, his ring; sign of
our love that was
suppose to last. I look at his face, frown when the plank expression
has taken
over his features once more, where are you? You must be in there! You
say he’s
dead but I can’t accept it. I close my eyes for small moment
and
take a deep
breath before looking at him again.
“They did a
bad thing, very bad
thing…” I whisper, “…I know
you’re
still
there, now please listen; I love you, I will never stop loving you and
I won’t
give up, don’t give up on yourself either. You’re
strong,
you can make it, and
I know you can!”
Silence, he looks out to
the sunshine, his
expression not changing.
“It looks grey
to me.” He whispers,
“all I see is grey…”
“You’re
not making sense.”
“You have to
let go, Alex… You have
to burry him, he won’t come back.”
“Jonas please,
don’t talk like
this…”
“Time
won’t fix it; it won’t
erase what happened...”
I swallow thickly, I
don’t want to lose
him, I don’t want to let go, I
hate hearing him speak like this, I hate the dullness locked in him,
where are
the feelings? Where are the tears?
“It
won’t erase it I know,
but…”
“You have to
let go, it can’t ever
be how it was, you need to live… You
can, without me.”
“How can I Jo?
How can you ask that of
me?” I reach for his hand kiss
his palm, “I love you, nothing can change that,
don’t you
see? I want to be
here, I want to be with you, don’t turn me away,
don’t you
do that… “
His hand slowly slips
away from my hold.
“What you look
for is gone and it
won’t come back Alex. I can’t be with
you…” He keeps repeating, his eyes are closed; I
look at
him wanting to scream
anything to bring him to his senses. “I don’t
want to be with you, I
can’t be your husband.” He adds,
opens his
eyes and looks away.
“Yes you can,
you can…” I nod
my voice trembling.
“Your husband
is gone, I can’t be
him. All I see is grey, I’m numb, cold,
I want you gone. Take the ring and go.”
“Just like
that?” I continue to
stare at him, hurt and disbelieve, disappointment,
not even a tear, he does not even cry, so flat, so cold, where are you?
He nods without looking.
”Yes, I no longer
want you here, I can’t breath
with you here, please, leave me be.”
I can’t find
my voice, can’t find
the strength,
“Is it what
you really want?” I ask
finally.
“Yes.”
No hesitation, I’m
exhausted. I look at his ring, my thoughts are
a mess and I suddenly feel numb, out of ideas. I stand up slowly, part
of me
willing to give up while other part screams at me to sit back down and
not
respect his wish because he is sick and needs me. For a moment I just
stand
there and watch him, without him looking back at me. I lower the ring
down on
the nightstand; it looks so lonely there.
“Ring or no
ring, you are my husband and
I’ll keep my ring. Perhaps one
day…” I look at him again, “one day,
this ring will
be back on your finger, but
I do not wish to push you. The ring is yours, whatever you decide to do
with it.”
He keeps silent,
stubbornly looking away from me
and right now it just
hurts too much to stay in the room. I want it back what we had, I want
my
husband back, I want Jo back! I want him to smile like he did the night
we
first met; when all of this was just a bad dream.
The hollow echo of my
shoes on the floor, click
of the door, my hand rests
on the handle and I hesitate; should I still turn and try? Or do I
simply submit
to the easier option? –He wants me to leave and I know how
difficult it would
be to try and rebuild a relationship with a person so
broken… Jo
wants me to
leave, I make him uneasy… what once was, is gone and there
won’t be a happily
ever after… there can’t be one, can there? With a
heavy
heart I push the door
open, step out and close it behind me.
Did the door really
close for good? When I walk
away towards the
cafeteria I wonder if I’m really walking away for good. Can
I? Or
can I stay
and fight knowing how long the fight will be? Maybe my husband is dead?
Suddenly I can’t go any further, my legs feel weak and about
to
give up, my
body trembling as I sit down on the hallway, I cover my face in my
hands and
cry, I cry more than I have in days, Breaking down as everything
finally sinks
in; my Jo is gone, my Jo is dead and what was won’t ever be
again. There is no
justice to be found, no cure to heal the wounds. My Jo is gone, gone
forever
and I can not bear the thought, how can I?
Web published: My Secret Shore
July 27th, 2009.
© KOLGRIM