Whiskey and Country

The scene played before me in slow motion.

Doctors bustled into the room. Injections were given. Pulse was searched for. The faces of comfort became tighter as tensions ran high. More medicines were loaded while buttons were pressed. Nothing. Paddles were placed on his chest. The defibrillator was cranked. And his heart was shocked. Derek’s limp body arced, then thumped back on the bed. I blinked. Was I dreaming all this? How could any of this be real? Air jammed in my throat. Holding our breaths, we all waited for the beep that would tell us he was still fighting. Seconds passed. Nothing. Murielle’s prayers sounded louder than usual, calling all the saints above. The doctors shocked Derek a second time. Nothing. They increased the power and shocked him for the third time. Nothing.

Beside me, Murielle wailed, slouching forward. Through the tension floating high in the air, a faint beep resonated, becoming louder with each second. Derek’s pulse. A shared sigh of relief echoed through the room. Derek or someone above had heard our prayers.

Oxygen struggled to reach my brain. Dizziness, some emotional hurricane coming from a chasm inside me, sent black spots dancing before my eyes. I breathed in. And out. In and out. My heart fought to wander out of my chest. To go on a strike instead of having to go through all this aching pain. I didn’t want to feel so much. I looked at Murielle, who was slumped in my arms. I had promised Derek I’d be there for her. Even if my composure was only held by a flimsy thread, I couldn’t be the one breaking down.

Stephen came in.

He gave extra orders, and the nurses busied themselves, administering injections through the intravenous line in Derek’s arm and pressing more buttons. All this time, I stayed frozen, unable to even twitch a finger. Stephen turned to look at Murielle and me and tilted his head. In a trance, we followed him out, leaving Derek in the care of the nursing staff.

The oncologist cleared his throat. “Okay, here’s the situation. Like we discussed, we did the scans. And the EEG to check out the electrical activity of Derek’s brain. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing.” He paused. “This cardiac arrest isn’t a good sign. Derek’s heart is unable to pump blood. His organs are starting to fail. Now it’s up to you. Your call. Derek won’t wake up.”

“Will his heart stop again?” Murielle asked in a hoarse voice.

“Yes. Our medicines are trying to maintain his vitals, but eventually, it will stop again.”

“How long does my baby have?”

“We can’t tell. Every time his body suffers an insult, we’ll have to shock him to try to bring him back. He is weak, so I don’t know, could be hours or days. We’ll give you some time to think about it. To discuss Derek’s final moments.” His eyes traveled between the two of us. “When you’re ready to turn off the ventilator, let us know. It will be the hardest thing both of you will ever do, but it will also be the kindest thing you can do for him. Derek fought a long and hard battle. Now he’s tired. Remember, we’re here for you, okay? Every step of the way.”

Murielle’s sobs punctured another wall around my heart, her tears soaking her shirt. The nurses walked out, and she rushed into the room. I leaned against the wall in the corridor, hoping… What was I hoping for? It wasn’t fair to let a child be shocked to life. My emotions twined in my throat and stayed there.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. With trembling fingers, I dug it out. I rubbed my fists over my eyes to clear the fog clouding my vision.

Tucker: You okay, man? Any news?

Me: Heart stopped. They shocked him. Vitals down.

Dots bounced at the bottom of my screen, then disappeared. They reappeared. Only to vanish again seconds later. A telltale sign that my friend had no clue what to say to ease the pain, raw and unbearable, growing in my chest, crushing all my organs.

Me: You don’t have to say anything. I know you understand.

Tucker: I’m so sorry. Call me if you need anything.

Me: Will do.

I waited for a few minutes to compose myself, then slowly dragged my weary body to Derek’s room. My heart skipped a beat, aching at the sight that faced me. Murielle was lying beside her little boy, whispering into his ear, stroking his arm, a loving expression painted on her face.

I slumped against the wall, its vertical surface the only thing keeping my body upright, my hands joined in a tent under my chin, my vocal cords unmoving.

“Baby, you came back for me. I hope you can hear me. ’Cause Mommy loves you. And will always love you. You are a fighter, but it’s time for you to rest. I understand it now. You can’t tell me, but your body is. And I’ll respect your wishes. A mother’s heart knows what you’re asking for. I’m sorry I’m the one keeping you in this life. Because I wasn’t ready. While you told me multiple times you were. Just know I hear you loud and clear. Now I get it. Please keep smiling. And be happy, okay?”

She kissed his forehead.

Lying by his side, her arms around the still body of her son, she started the song that she hummed every night during Derek’s chemo and radiotherapy treatments to help him fall asleep. When she stared at me, tears shone in her eyes, along with knowledge. Resignation. Surrender. And love. My throat worked. She didn’t have to speak the words.

With a slight nod, I straightened and exited the room to get the staff.

Minutes later, Stephen walked back into the room along with his residents. We all waited for the mother to finish her final lullaby, a haunted expression shadowing everyone’s faces.

With a finger, Murielle beckoned me. On weakened legs, I neared the bed and sat down, holding Derek’s hand.

My chest ripped in two, and the raw suffering poured out, as if the dam broke and no one possessed the required skills to fix it. Silent tears cascaded down my cheeks.

“Bro, it’s time. Your mom is right. We must do this. Honor your wishes. You wouldn’t want to be stuck to a machine.” I sucked in a scorching breath. One that fed the blazing flames down my larynx. “We’ll set you free. Wherever you’ll be next, I hope you’re happy. And healthy. And safe. That you’ll run around or fly a helicopter or something. Or maybe play ball like we used to. Heaven’s Little League could really use your talent. And your leadership. That’s all I hope for you, bro.” I sobbed, the back of my eyes burning from crying too much. “We’ll set you free,” I repeated. “Shine up there, okay? Shine brighter than you did here, which is kinda hard since you were everybody’s light.” A tiny smile curled my lips, happy memories flooding in. “Watch over your mom. I will too. Like you asked me. The sky is lucky to have another star. I love ya.”

Then Murielle’s last words permeated the eerie silence of the room. “I love you, baby. I’ll love you forever.”

The air tensed. Goosebumps spread across my nape.

Only the whoosh of the ventilator and the beeping of Derek’s heart could be heard.

Stephen cleared his throat, and Murielle nodded to me. I moved to her side and supported her up as we watched the scene, helpless. Her attention drifted to the switch of the ventilator, inches away. Her face wrenched in pure agony as her hand reached for it, then withdrew.

She retreated to his bed and brushed Derek’s bald head with her hand as if to push his hair back. The same way she always did when he was just a little boy with a headful of golden locks.

Shrills of pain filled the room. “My baby. My baby. No. I can’t say goodbye. Noooo—”

Standing close, I pulled her into my embrace, rocking her, wishing I had a magical way to soothe her distress through this heart-wrecking moment.

With a long quivering huff, I braced myself, squaring my shoulders. “Do you want me—to—you know? I can… if you want.” No matter how hard I tried, those words refused to pass across my lips.

Murielle studied me, her face a broken roadmap of bleakness and a thousand more emotions I refused to dig into but could feel down to the marrow of my bones.

A slow nod confirmed it.

In the semi-lit room, I did the one thing I’d never imagined myself doing in my life. I turned Derek’s ventilator off.

The heart rate slowed down with each second. Lost in my own grief, I zoned out.

My mind went numb. And even if I tried, I couldn’t seem to catch a deep breath. Murielle hugged her son and whispered the words over and over. “Baby, Mommy loves you. Now and forever. In every lifetime. You are a true fighter, the best amongst us. Now you’re free. Free to run, free to live, not bound to a bed. Be safe up there. Make friends. You deserve it. Nothing will come in your way anymore. You’re allowed to be a child. Go now. Please remember—I love you.”

I love you too, bro. And I always will. I’ll never forget you. You’ll be in my heart forever.

I kissed my fingers and saluted the sky.