It’d warmed thanks to the island sun.
Please, please wake up.
“He needs to hear the falls. He needs to feel the water.” I looped my fingers with his. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make him come back—to me and to Pika.”
* * * * *
I sat on the bed with my hand on Sully’s chest and blurrily watched the commotion as the doctors set up an in-home triage. Dr Maldon was a good leader, precise and kind, traipsing with her colleagues to gather the medical supplies and equipment they’d brought from Geneva with them to monitor Sully.
I’d thought they’d leave the moment they’d shifted Sully from the travel stretcher onto his mosquito-netted bed, but she’d pulled me aside and asked if I would object to them sleeping in cots in the lounge for a few nights to monitor Sully’s condition after such a long journey.
I’d nodded and plopped heavily beside Sully. Him lying with tubes and sensors tracking his heart and me swaying by his side, linked by our hands…even if only one of us was aware of the contact.
The setup was like a dance. A choreography of wheeled machines and medical equipment that slowly transformed Sully’s bedroom into a hospital.
The sugar glider who lived in Sully’s rafters blinked nocturnal grumpy eyes and did its best to go back to sleep. The beetles and geckoes kept their distance but were too reluctant to leave, and the heron and kingfisher on the balcony watched with intelligent eyes, weighing up the likelihood that the monitor wires were eels to snatch.
“Have a shower. I’ll keep an eye on him.” Louise arched her chin at the bathroom.
I blanched.
How could I have a shower alone when the last time I’d stood in his open-air bathroom and listened to Nirvana splashing, I’d just enjoyed the best day of my life? Sully had stripped down his masks, told me he loved me, and spent the day with me naked in the natural pool.
We’d reached a level of sweet domestication, even if our blood was full of deviant desires. If I showered on my own, I was effectively erasing the best day of my life with one of my worst.
“Go.” She patted my shoulder as I blinked away my haze. “You’ll feel better. Once you’ve washed the flights off, you can sleep beside him. He’ll sense you’re there, and you can rest.”
I nodded blankly, allowing her to pluck me from the bed and shoo me into Sully’s bathroom.
* * * * *
I slipped into one of Sully’s business shirts and tied a bronze tie around my waist as a belt. Clean body and clean clothes helped me perk up a bit.
Yes, I’d hoped Sully would have a miraculous event and wake up the moment he felt he was home. But just because we weren’t in a storybook where the villain fell asleep and the hero was reborn didn’t mean he wouldn’t open his eyes soon.
Tomorrow maybe…or the day after.
The point was, I had to stay positive.
With my head held high, I strode back into Sully’s bedroom and jerked to a stop.
Five policemen stood at the foot of Sully’s bed all muttering in Indonesian and waving at Sully’s prone form as if he was an obstruction of justice and deserved to be arrested.
Louise and her doctors faded into the background, running diagnostics and settling their patient into a new routine.
“Can…can I help you?” I crossed my arms over Sully’s black shirt and narrowed my eyes.
“We have questions, ma’am.” One of the uniformed men stepped toward me. “We are not permitted to leave these shores until our questions have been answered.”
I braced my shoulders. “You’ve been staying here?”
“Our superior’s orders.” The man who seemed in charge wore a badge stating his name was Susilo and had a bigger array of emblems and insignias on his uniform than the rest of his decorated team. “When will Mr. Sinclair be awake for questioning?”
“Like I told you before,” Louise muttered, “he’s in a coma. That means his brain is operating at the lowest levels of alertness with minimal recognition and abilities.”
The policeman looked her up and down. “How long will the coma last? We are busy men. We have other things to investigate.”
“I told you.” Louise threw me an exasperated look before brushing aside her sweaty auburn hair. “Mr. Sinclair cannot initiate voluntary actions in his current state. That means he will not respond to any stimuli, such as light, sound, or pain.” She finished pressing a few buttons on the heart rate monitor before adding, “We have no timeframe for when he’ll wake from the coma. This is not medically induced. Mr. Sinclair suffered a highly traumatic event with multiple heart failure episodes, and we are unsure if he will wake naturally. He might slip into a vegetative state where the chances of him being a fully functional individual diminishes to approximately eleven percent. Even if he woke today, there’s no saying his cognitive abilities won’t be damaged or he won’t suffer from amnesia. So, gentlemen…”