Two Weeks (39 page)

A stocky, bearded flight attendant approaches me. "Are you Allyson Moore?"

"Yes," I say.

"We've got an open seat for you. Meet me at the counter and we'll get you a boarding pass."

I struggle to keep myself from jumping up and down and cheering. I can't believe this all worked out. Once I'm on the plane and waiting for take-off, I call the rental car service and make arrangements for a vehicle.

When everything is done, I buckle up and head off into the sky.

***

A
gainst all odds, everything happens with no delays. We arrive on time and the car is waiting for me. I grab the keys at the rental desk and then start driving.

When I'm roughly halfway to Red Lake, I realize that I don't actually know where Jackson is right now. Hell, I don't know anything. I pull into a gas station and sit there. I'm not sure what to do.

The video starts replaying in my mind and it riles up my guts. I see all of that brutality happening once again...

...and then I remember Todd running up to the stage—and that he gave me his number!

I grab my phone and start flying through the contacts until I find Todd's lonely first name. He's just "Todd." I don't know his last name.

I dial and wait with shaking hands. "Hello?" he says, his voice subdued.

"Todd!" I shout. "It's Ally. I heard what happened and came back home. Where is Jackson?"

"Barton City Memorial Hospital," he says quickly.

"Is he okay?" I ask.

"He's stable. Waiting for them to finish their tests."

I don't know what any of this means aside from the fact that he's actually
alive
. That's good enough for now. I realize I'd prefer to be there in person to receive any other news.

"I'm coming, Todd," I announce. "I'll be there in about an hour."

"Give your name at the desk," he says. "I'll be waiting."

I hang up and type the hospital into the GPS. Once it's figured out the route, I pull back onto the highway and speed the rest of the way there. It's a miracle that I don't get pulled over.

After what seems like an eternity, I arrive and rush into the hospital, stopping at the desk once I find it. I ask for Jackson Ames and they send me upstairs. As I approach room 214, I see Todd sitting on a flimsy chair out in the hall. He looks totally exhausted.

Like a man that hasn't slept all night.

"Todd!" I shout. I run up to him and hug him.

"I don't even know how you knew to come," he says. "I tried to get a hold of someone, but he really doesn't have any family."

"He doesn't," I say. "I saw the video. He sent me the links to the stats page before he left."

"I just can't believe this shit," Todd says quietly, pathetically. "I've been hounding him for months, and when he finally says yes,
this
happens."

"What happened?" I ask. "I mean, I saw the video."

Todd's face is pallid. "You might want to sit down."

I swallow hard and take his advice. The chair isn't comfortable at all, but comfort is not my priority right now.

"He broke his neck," Todd says. "Just got hit the right way. He also has a concussion."

Tears start to stream down my cheeks. "Oh, God." I'm really glad that I sat down. My legs feel like thin strips of rubber. It's
exactly
what I was afraid of.

"But they don't know the full extent of the damage. They actually think his spine is okay. That's what they're testing now. They've given him cat scans and x-rays and all that jazz. He's been a real trooper. I haven't slept since they started."

I wipe my eyes. "Is that good news or bad news? About his spine?" I'm having a tough time distinguishing between possibilities right now.

"Well, I don't want to get carried away, but he might be totally fine other than the cervical fracture."

My worn and depleted lungs feel like they're finally able to breathe. "Totally fine? Really?
What?
"

"If you break your neck and don't mess up your spine, you can walk out with no trouble at all. Just a neck brace. It happens sometimes."

There are pins and needles in my legs as feeling comes back. "Can I s-see him?" I ask.

"Yeah. I left to give him some privacy. But I'm sure he'll want to see
you
."

"I hope so," I murmur.

"He's been in the dumps since you left town. This'll be good for him."

"Seriously?" I'm surprised for some reason. Shocked, even. Although we haven't talked enough since I left, he was always really quiet about his emotions when we did.

I guess I understand why. It hurts.

"Yeah. Seriously." Todd slowly sits down, giving his fatigued body some additional rest. "Nothing would cheer him up."

I'm ready. I walk over to the door. I stare at the number on top and think about how many other people have probably been in this room too, people suffering from all sorts of terrible things.

When I finally feel brave enough, I put my hand on the knob and slowly turn until the door cracks open slightly.

And then I open it the rest of the way and go inside.

***

Jackson

I
've been on large doses of painkillers ever since they admitted me to the hospital. The day is nothing but a haze.

Well, so was last night. I remember getting knocked out, but after I hit the floor, I lost consciousness. I'm swimming through my thoughts as they form in my head. They're like tiny islands popping up here and there. I crash into some of them, and others I totally miss.

The visuals are all stretched out and goofy, with glossy, reflective surfaces. Nothing looks all that right. Everything has been soaked by water or some other clear liquid. I see my family. My mom and dad are on one of the islands waving. I miss them.

I don't
feel
like I'm swimming. I feel like I'm floating, but I'm totally in control of my movement.

The farther I go, the closer I get to the biggest island in the horizon. I'm drawn to it. It's like the island is magnetic and I'm made of metal. I desperately need to reach this island.

I cut right through the waves, one by one, giving it my all. I can see the shore now. There are probably a hundred identical people on the island, all standing in a row. The single duplicated person looks very familiar.

Closer and closer. I feel myself getting tired. I'm working so hard to reach this strange, equivocal goal. And then I cross a threshold, and everything is suddenly clear—the person is Ally.

Well,
they
are. All of them.

I go faster and faster, and then suddenly they all blend into one person, smearing from both the left and right sides toward the bulging center. I feel like I'm in a house of mirrors and all of the images are meeting together in one single place in front of me.

"Jackson?"

The voice is distant, yet loud. It echoes in my brain sonorously.

"Are you there?"

I see her lips moving. I
know
she's the one speaking!

Suddenly, the room rushes back in and merges with the dream images of Ally.

She's here.

Right now.

Ally

I
t's been a strange couple of years since I unexpectedly went home for that family reunion.
This
all started there, right when I went home for the damn thing. The whole direction of my life shifted drastically, all at once.

I couldn't have predicted any of this, not in a million years.

After breaking his neck, Jackson wound up just fine. But he also ended up on the receiving end of my very-changed attitude. See, knowing what I knew, and after what I had experienced, I could no longer support him as a fighter.

No amount of sexiness or sheer strength or skill could change my mind. Every time he went into that ring was another time that he could wind up paralyzed. Yes, his neck had been broken. No, it didn't paralyze him.

Yes, he got
lucky
.

But the spinal stenosis doesn't just go away. Maybe it saved him somehow. Maybe the abnormality of his spine somehow prevented further injury.

I don't know.

The only thing I knew then was that his lifestyle was
very dangerous
.

When I saw him laid out in that hospital bed, my emotions came crashing down hard. I gripped his arm as tightly as I could and held on while I sobbed.

"I never thought I'd see you again." Those were the first words out of his mouth.

And they still haunt me.

I stayed with him until the doctors said it would be okay. A couple of days.

I laid it all out for him. I told him how things were going to be. I expressed my fears and admitted that no, I wasn't over him. Not at all. I had just forced myself to move on only because I had no choice. I didn't know what to do.

The second goodbye was even worse than the first. But Jackson had a grin on his face that suggested that he had a trick up his sleeve. I felt both uncomfortable and optimistic.

I returned home, and I was still alone...

...until a month and a half later.

Jackson showed up in town, suitcase in hand. He told me he just wanted to visit. He wanted me to show him around Boston. I didn't care
what
he wanted—I was just ecstatic to see him at all. We spent every minute together we could until he had to leave a week later.

And when he left, again, that
look
.

"Why did you come here?" I asked him. "For real. Don't lie to me."

His expression was timid, yet honest. "Because I want to move in with you. I'm selling my house. I'm done fighting for good. I want to be wherever you are."

I told him he was crazy. It didn't faze him one bit.

But soon after, I realized that
I
was the crazy one. No matter what I did, I couldn't stop thinking about those words.

I want to be wherever you are.

In my head, I was always saying it
back to him
, not just repeating the words. It was true.

So I told him. He was thrilled. He moved to Boston.

He moved to
me
.

We got a cat, a big, orange and brown tabby that's obnoxiously friendly and playful. We got a bigger apartment. Even though he didn't need a job—especially not after selling his house and land—he still got one. Jackson became a personal trainer, passing on his fitness expertise to others.

And he loves every second of it.

I moved up too. I became a regional manager for my company. And it's wonderful. It's everything I could have asked for in a career.

Jeff and Jackson became best friends again, picking up right where they left off. And coincidentally, Jeff got promoted and transferred to his company's corporate headquarters in none other than
Berkley, California
.

Suddenly, we could visit both Liz and him at the same time. I was elated to receive the news.

Things had come together perfectly in so many ways. I was at a point when life seemed like it couldn't possibly get any better...

...until Jackson asked me to marry him. The ring was his mother's old ring. Somehow, it fit perfectly.

I said
yes
.

Now, it's our wedding day. Jeff is the best man, the same Jeff that Jackson thought he'd lost forever. Although it makes me cry that his family can't be here to witness this, I realize he's starting over. My family can't ever replace his family—but I know they'll treat him as good as any family can.

He knows it too.

They've supported us every step of the way and I couldn't be more thankful to have them.

I'm neurotic as hell as I get ready for the wedding. I hate how I look. I don't like how the dress fits even though it's probably fine. I can't get my brain under control. It doesn't seem to fit inside my skull.

But then I remember that this isn't about me—it's about
us.
I stop obsessing over every tiny detail. Jackson wouldn't approve of this one bit. He would know exactly what to say right now.

And it reminds me of something he said while we were planning for the wedding.

I mentioned his parents. I mentioned how I wished they could be at the wedding, how sad it all is. I told him it was unfair what happened to them. He'd heard those words so many times before from so many people, including me.

But that night, he responded differently.

"They died peacefully," he said. "They never had to live without each other. They shared everything together, love, life, prosperity—even
death
. How is that unfair?"

Those words will stick with me always. What happened is a tragedy for sure—but it's not
only
a tragedy. It's so much more. We try to categorize things as black or white, good or bad, dark or light. We don't like the in-betweens.

Nothing is perfect, but we do our best. That's life.

And as much as I'd love to spend more time talking about Jackson's wisdom, I've got to go marry him right now.

It's time.

I take a deep breath and go for it.

The End

––––––––

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-Andrea

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Haze