We had been drinking heavily that day. It was the height of summer, the sun was out, and we had nothing better to do that Saturday afternoon. Me and my buddies were chilling on the porch having a laugh or two, thinking about going to the Big Lake.
We were three hungry guys too! We could hit up Pronto Pups before heading to the lighthouse to jump off the pier.
After our 2nd 12-pack and a shared bottle of Southern Comfort, we weren’t feeling too much pain until Stinky started to whine about his girl moving down south to live with her sister Melody. The sister was hot too! Too bad she had kids. I sure as hell didn’t want any of that hot mess. The father of her children was getting out of prison anytime now, and I sure wasn’t going to tap that and then deal with his crazy ass. Not me, man. Besides, I was barely making ends meet and had to put with these two boneheads taking turns messing up the kitchen we all shared.
Ha! I still remember how Scott got the nickname, Stinky. Third grade. Jefferson Elementary. Mrs. Joss. Scott couldn’t seem to stop farting in class one day, and we told him we were going to beat him up if he let one out that smelled that bad again. It was nasty!
Needless to say, not only did he let another one out but he stuck his scrawny ass out at us and laughed when he did it! Joey, the class bad ass, and our bud started to go after him while the rest of us laughed our fool heads off because he was alright by us, defying the class bully and then laughing about it.
Funny what you recall, when you’re laying there in bed, strapped down. I can’t seem to open my eyes. Am I dreaming? I keep hearing voices in between remembering stuff. I feel awake, but it’s all fuzzy too.
Yeah, poor drunk Stinky was getting teary eyed, saying he had to go see that dang girl Cassidy, and he was taking the car with or without us. Well, we sure weren’t going to let him drive down to Kalamazoo alone. It was only an hour away, and yeah we wished we could go the other way to Lake Michigan, which was only 45 minutes away, but cha just can’t stop love, I guess.
“Mr. and Mrs. Salazar …. as we said before, we fully believe that Zeke’s condition will not improve. We believe that if he did come out of this coma, he would not be the boy you once you knew. Now, if you still need some more time before we turn off the machine, we’ll be glad to step away while you say your good-byes.”
What? Hey, I CAN HEAR YOU! Mom? Dad? For fuck’s sake, I can hear you!! Oh, my god!
“Thank you doctor…. Jack? I can’t take this…. I have to leave for a moment to catch my breath.” I could hear mom crying and nearly hysterical before I heard something crash to the floor. If I could just move my hand or …. signal them, or S O M E T H I N G !!!
The sounds in the room seemed to be fading, as the light in the room grew brighter …. was that a tunnel …?
Inspired by a true story. “Zeke” Lives.
and, the following:
Writing Prompt from Writer’s Digest: “You were involved in a terrible car accident and have been in a coma for the past three months. What your family and the doctors don’t know is that you can hear everything that they say. Write the scene.”