Continued from chapter 15 of the Devastation Series.

His lifeless mannerisms made it hard for me to judge his next words. I was used to doctors not being warm and friendly – especially specialists, but I would have preferred the AI’s prognosis. Some places primarily used AI for routine visits. The AI would often have an avatar to make the event more human-esk. There were two schools of thought with AI doctors. One was the AI would act as the specialist since computers were able to have the in-depth knowledge of a focused topic. The other group thought was that a generalist has better as AI, since the amount of knowledge that could be sifted through in a single moment, covering more possibilities and able to predict more calculable scenarios. Frankly, I did not care at that moment, I just wanted to be assured and get a solution that resulted in a fishing trip when he got better…
“How bad is it Doctor?” I asked, not really wanting to hear what he would say next.
“Jake, is it” The doctor continued with my nod, “your dad has fallen into a coma. I am pretty certain that it is a complication from the cancer and treatments. It wore heavily on his body, it appears…” He conducted what seemed like an entire lecture explaining the details of what had happened to Dad. His voice faded in and out like a large fan blade was spinning in front of me, or maybe a door being opened and shut. I felt Valerie place her hand on my shoulder and the doctor’s voice came back into focus. “Your father has stopped the break down of oxygen and dispelling the waste gases. All of his motor functions are intact, but he has lost communication from his brain. With the trauma to his body, his lungs have stopped processing, and without oxygen, the brain then ceased to function.”
“Cease-d?” I asked with an emphasis on the past tense.
“Jake…” the doctor took a deep breath, “your father is not really alive. The machines are keeping his bodily functions going, but without it, he would shut down… minutes? Maybe a little longer?”
“What does that mean?” I asked, not wanting to comprehend.
“It means, that we can leave him on this life support, but the duration will not change the result. When the body stops this form of processing – there is nothing we can do to gain connectivity back with the brain. Its a system failure, not just an organ or treatment protocol.” He said plainly, trying to judge my next reactions. Tears welled up in my eyes and one slid off my cheek and hit my jeans. “We can give you a little bit to talk about it, I am sorry, son…” He patted my knee and slid back in the chair then walked out of the room. Valerie’s eyes were filled with water, but she never did cry. Instead, she turned to me, and I fell into her shoulder. The tears quickly soaked her shirt and she cooed along with “shhh-shh-shhh” sounds. She cupped the back of my head; I was stone.

We went on like that for a while after the doctor left. Tears, and shoulders, and empty gazes repeated for a couple of hours. The nurse would check back and see us then leave again. The heart monitors acted like a metronome keeping everything in time. Beep…Beep…Beep… Perfect pace and a perfect beat. If only it was doing anything, I thought to myself. Miniature grieving cycles erupted from deep within, but I did not have any words to paint the pictures of my emotions. I imagine they would have been dark rapid scribbles like a child frantically putting all of his weight on the crayon. Everything felt messy.

Valerie never let go, and I always remembered that. I had a friend in my corner in those moments. She had feelings too – but stopped the pursuit of them and just catered to me. I saw a tear fall from her face, only after I sobbed in my worst moment. We were both grieving the reality, though. We had no hope and that was the most devastating thing for us. You are supposed to go to the doctor, they give you a shot… sew up a wound… give you a treatment… and you walk away better. It just did not feel fair. The doctor finally came back in, likely between rounds. He pulled up the same chair and scooted closer towards us. He got on our level and brought a welcoming-embracing vibe. I did not envy that part of his job.

“Jake,” he started softly with his raspy voice. He touched at my knee, “there was no pain. And you’re not holding on to… Him…” He pointed to my chest, “Hold on here.” My chest expanded as I inhaled with an exaggerated exhale.
“Yeah, I get what you’re saying…” I looked up at an angle to him. “What’s next?”
“Whenever you are ready, we will unplug the power to the machines. His body will start shutting down… It is not something that you have to see or stay for… Some people do and some do not.” He watched Valerie and me as he attempted compassion. 
“I will stay, ” I looked to Valerie, which she acknowledged with a nod.
“Okay then, I will tell the nurses and they will prepare. They will be in to talk you through it…” He patted my knee, “I am sorry, son…” His knees popped as got up. He slid the rolling chair back near the desk then looked back at us and gestured a small wave with his hand.

Valerie saw the tears well in my eyes which she signaled by a squeeze of my arm. “You know, you do not have to…” She started to say when I intervened. 
“Will you stay with me?” I looked to her in a suggestive plea tone.
“Oh honey…” she looked straight into my eyes, “I will if that is what you want – I would really like to for me as well,” she reassured me with a pat on the knee. We sat there with the continued beeps, and oxygen machine creating oxygen. I went to the door and looked down the hall, no nurse in sight. I needed to move around for a moment. I walked out of the room and found my way to the nurse’s station. “May I have some coffee? Or the vending machines?” I asked the quiet elderly nurse behind a set of monitors. 
“Sure dear, just go to the break-room around the corner – you will find vending machines, coffee, and a pod machine if you don’t mind the kind we keep in there.” She pointed around the corner to my left. I forced a smile and cautiously navigated around the corner to a small room tucked in, off to the side.

I walked in and the motion lighting kicked on, slightly brightening the room. I scanned the options in the vending but only felt more nauseous by the sugar-coated frosting lumps that lined the shelves. There were chips, muffins, and other pastries, along with gum, mints, and a small tin of jerky. I decided to pass on the options and looked at the coffee vending machine. I saw the machine was powered by E-VendingPlus which was the most common network of payments for vending. Once set up, a fingerprint could be used anywhere followed by the last four of a security code that you selected. You could opt for another layer of security by text, but it seemed that every time I wanted a treat – the network would lag and I would miss my chance. I decided to get a small cocoa as an offering to Valerie and made the selection. I grabbed a small to-go cup off to the side and poured a cup of coffee for me from the bulk pod coffee pot. I sat that off to the side and went to the restroom around the corner while the cocoa brewed.

I walked back into the lounge and grabbed the cocoa and coffee. I shuffled back to the room while balancing the drinks as to not spill anything. I tapped on the door and pushed my way in. Valerie had shed a tear or two but tucked it all back away by the time I arrived. The nurse had arrived and said she would be right back to discuss what was next. I handed Valerie the cocoa apologetically offering it to her. She smelled it, sipped, and sat it off to the side. “Thank you, Jake,” she said then cleared her throat. I motioned to her that she had a cream-stash. I settled back into the chair and took a few controlled breaths. Moments of stillness passed until the nurse came back in.

She went over the details which were very hard to hear. The machines would be shut off, but the monitors would continue to operate. The length of time would not be certain but they believed that it would not be very long, whatever that meant… She assured us that there was no pain, and that way was the natural way of letting things run their course. She walked around the bed, and touched his face as if to say “It will be over soon.” She tucked the blanket into the bed as if snuggling him in. I realized that he was no longer there. The spirit – the light – the charisma that resided in a person’s body, in their face, was absent. I was confused but also realizing this was just a step in the process. We scooted the chairs closer and the nurse looked to us for approval. I nodded and she followed up with a few clicks then unplugged one of the machines. The room got slightly quieter as the pump creating oxygen stopped. His breaths continued, just shallower and slower.

It took a long time to get through the process. Neither of us had experienced anything like that before, and we had no idea what to expect. We watched his body change, slowly, in fractional increments throughout a couple of hours. We took turns telling a story about life with Dad. Her stories were more recent and mostly revolved around the farm. My stories were of childhood mischief and times before I left home after college. It was nice to paint a semi-seamless timeline and have joy without any judgment or feeling included. I felt my grins and my cheeks tingle for holding them. I saw her light up with stories about his stubbornness. We passed the time with tales of love and happiness. We gave his body a spirit with our words; he was in the room with us. When the very end came, and the light flickered out.

His body slowed and the beeping became less in time and more sporadic. Like a domino set lined up to knock down, the chips started to fall. His breaths became deeper and less frequent. The artificial life that was in his body, slowly faded away, and the little light left snuffed out. We stayed by his side until the very end. The nurse came in and asked if we needed anything. She covered his face with the blanket and finalized that it was done. I touched his hand one last time, before being prepared for display. Or did he want cremation? I would have to ask his lawyer tomorrow. The hands were no longer warm but cool to touch. His hands didn’t grip mine and he didn’t move or gesture as we prepared to leave. I had spent all of my tears for the moment, and Valerie maintained her composure. We walked to the car in the most silence we had for hours. There was an absent feeling among us.

Neither of us were hungry, so I stopped at the convenience store by the hospital. I purchased a cigar, a bottle of Dad’s favorite bourbon, and a bag of vinegar & pickle chips. Valerie didn’t want anything and gave me a sideways frown with my drink selection. I had forgotten about her history, I was only thinking of me. She did not judge me or hold it against me as I got back into the driver’s seat. She had set up some music and had put her hair into a side braid. She was trying to relax, and the music climbed over my babbling while we continued to the apartment. I felt different. I am not sure what that meant, specifically, but the drive was not the same as it was earlier. A lot had happened in the last 24 hours and I had new experiences. I felt like a changed man and blessed to have been by my dad’s side. He was not alone.

The shadows grew darker as the sun started to set and lightning flashed in the sky, flickering in the pillowy gray clouds. The season of storms that disappear and reappear without much warning, was upon us. The wind had started to pick up as we pulled into the parking lo. The treetops bent with the wind pulling into the storm. Valerie looked up and out the front windshield bouncing to the side windows. “I think we are going to get wet…” She murmured at the glass and fogged up the window. I felt weird asking – and I felt weird not asking, “Want to come up? I promise I will not try anything…” I shrugged my shoulders trying to brush off the awkwardness with sarcasm.
“Even being chivalrous, you think with your… You assume that I would even think that – let alone try anything.” She chirped.
“You are full of yourself. Thinking that I was thinking about you thinking…Ok – whatever… you may come read journals or hangout if you so desire,” I chuckled.
“I will stop up for a little bit…” She bounced back unphased.
“Slap your mask down – let’s go.” I asserted sliding my mask down while opening the car door. She did the same. As we walked across the parking lot a rushing sound barreled after us. We picked up the pace and the zipper pulled away dropping a large amount of water on us before we made it to the safety of the awning. I fumbled for my keys and she looked at me with annoyance. “Seriously? Now would be a good time for a thumb…” She was cut off by the swing of the door.
“Trust me – I know what would be more convenient.” I raised an eyebrow back at her. We wiped our feet on the dated rug and the cool breeze from the air conditioning sent chills over us. We creaked and squeaked down the hallway to room 116 where, again, I fumbled for keys. I was getting faster – but mastery was still a distant accomplishment. I swung the door open and saw the bottle laying against the walls I entered along with piles of clothes stirred from the morning rummage. 
“Looks like what I remember…” Valerie poked at me.
“Hush…” I replied shutting the door closing us inside. It was weirdly delightful to have company at that moment.

I walked around and placed the convenience store items on the counter. I acted busy for a moment, then poured a small glass to drink and then settled into the Couch. To my surprise, Valerie got up and poured a small glass for herself as well. She added a couple of ice cubes and came to the opposite side of the couch. It was then when the awkwardness smacked us in the face. The elephant had become an entire heard, so it would have seemed. The fact that I was effectively squatting, my father had just passed, we are practically strangers, I am drinking my depression, and we were sitting on my couch may have lent to the feeling. Out of the blue, I spoke out, “Do I have to call the hospital back?”
“The funeral arrangement staff will contact you, likely tomorrow.” She calmly replied.
“What am I doing Valerie?” I asked called out, feeling the weight settle as I took a shot like drink.
“Jake – what does that mean?” She inquired. I shared the thoughts in my mind – and shewed the elephants into a corner. My feelings of oddness, my confusion, and lack of any assertiveness did not unsettle her. Maggie would have been upset. When my mind wandered, she became frustrated, often at a disproportionate level, but that was different with Valerie. She had the makings of a close friend. Times like these make relationships.

I continued to sip on my drink until it was empty which I would refill and repeat. As I took another sip, my wrist motion-activated my watch – 08:45 PM. My words were starting to slur together and emotions were festering the size of my intoxication level. Self-awareness was the first feeling to escape me, which was common for others in my situation. “I am ssoorrry Valer….” I stopped myself as she put a finger to her lips.
“Stop it. I promise you – I am not going to sit by while you drink yourself stupid every night. However, sh*t gets hard sometimes, and everyone needs a moment… Some play music… some write stories… some just talk… and while I think you do other things – a drink is the first comfort ” She trailed off. She was right, of course. The weight was lifted off my chest and replaced with a buzzing lightness that disregarded the very real things things going on. I tried to continue, “I don’t felt… feel… like I had time with him. All of those wasted years, ruined time, because of my choices.”
“Jake, there were some distant times. Rocky even, maybe…” She finished her shot, with a cringe and continued, “But that does not change what you did have. The distant years didn’t remove the good memories that you have. He loved you, Jake. He always talked about you – since I have known him, anyway.”
“How I was not there… or how he wished he could see…” I stammered.
“No, Jake. They weren’t all bubbly and sparks didn’t shoot out of your ass like a unicorn – but he talked about the things you guys did. Or what he knew you were doing. He was p-r-o-u-d of you, Jake.” She continued to emphasize my name to ensure that I was not drifting off. She started asking about what I did remember. It was perfect timing since I was about ready to nod off. I was eager to talk though. That drunken story mode was at the forefront and I rambled on for some time – in and out of conversations. They were all over the place as I excitedly remembered different things to share with her. I took another full shot. I was starting to feel a very tired and tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach. I opened the chips to curb whatever was going on inside.

I remember picking my bobble-head off the couch arm. Like a sprinter taking off after set, I lunged into a run to the bathroom, falling to my hands and knees over the porcelain utility. The alcohol was too much for my system and it needed to rid itself of me. I curled inside of myself heaving everything into the water. The smell impaled my face and splattered on my cheeks and forehead. The sparkling white toilet looked more like a trucker restroom than what I was using just a short time ago. I remember hearing her voice come in behind me. She put her hand on my back and sat on the side of the tub. I was not aware of much outside of my 1:1 with the bowl. Her tone was soothing but her words were unrecognizable to me at that moment.

I remember cramping and wiping off my mouth with a wet cloth. I woke back up later asleep on the couch. The reclining chair was moved close beside the couch, near me and I could see a figure in the darkness. The lights were out and two tiny blankets were being used by us. Her hand was poised by where my head was laying as if she stroked my head. I had so much emotion inside of me, and all I wanted to do was go away… My head was pounding so I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. Against better judgement I chugged a shot. Then I gulped another and felt the burn down my throat. I swished the water inside my mouth and spat into the sink. I curled up on the couch and waited for the shot to kick in. I cramped from the drinks, but I dreaded the next steps even more: funeral home and legal things.

The sunlight beamed onto the couch and sweat came over me as I hid in the blanket. An instant heat consumed my body and I threw the blankets off of me. I startled awake and bolted straight up – trying to figure out the recent timeline. The chair next to me was empty, but a blanket was there. I was not alone. Valerie was in that chair at some point, it was not a dream. I remembered a few tidbits from the prior evening. I remembered laying in the bathroom as she sat beside me. I remembered her soothing voice during all of the discomforts. I rubbed my eyes – where did she go, I wondered. My doubt kicked in and I assumed that it was all too much. The loss of my father then watching someone that she just met become a basket-case would not be inviting to anyone. I stumbled over to the kitchen and took another swig. The burning was familiar and I exhaled leaning into the sting.

I was several drinks in when Valerie barged back through the door. I was awake and active as was a buzz. I was in the cheerful state when your brain is creative and smiles decorate your face. “Welcome back?” I blurted out.
“Did you really need to drink more?” She cut straight to the point. She was also being rhetorical. She had a feeling of sorrow or disappointment about her that I would come to know well. She slid her mask off of her head and sat it on the table. In her other hand was a coffee carrier. She twisted a drink out and handed it to me. “Drink this Jake. I need you today. Your dad – needs… you… today.” She had a pleading in her voice that was laced with empathy and frustration. She sat the coffee down beside of me. I looked down and away and grabbed the coffee heading back to the couch.

I got properly dressed and sipped the chai coffee that she got for me. We had to go to the funeral home and she ushered me along. We put on our masks and went to her car. Valerie had an all manual car, which was not common anymore. It was several years older with less tech involved. She was one of the few people that did all of the driving and you could tell that she enjoyed it. She turned on a modern radio new age station. It was peaceful and the voices were soft. It may have even been a Christian station, I could not tell. The buzz took me in and out of an attention span riding to the funeral home. We drove mostly in silence despite, aside from the music, my attempts to spark some conversation. Valerie was not pleased with me – and I only had part of the reason why.

We arrived at the funeral home and were greeted by a larger man in a very sharp grey suit. His tie was from a comic that I used to enjoy, and he had a salesperson tone in his voice. His PPE was of a drawn smile. “Greetings and welcome to…” he trailed off to me. I was in awe of the elegance of the building. The building, while impressive, also started to feel oppressive. I heard Valerie say Dad’s name, and we were guided to a room off to the side. The man showed us to seats and walked around and slid the creaking chair back for him. He sat down and got onto a computer with several clicks. Once he had what he was looking for he muttered “There it is…” and put the information up on the second screen facing us. He proceeded to go through the options that Dad had selected and make sure that we were still on board with those selections. Dad knew that his time was shorter than most – and hated the thought of anyone being burdened by something he caused. Most of the arrangements were pre-selected by Dad.

We spent hours going through each piece of paperwork. The details became clearer to me as time passed. I felt both shame for my actions and frustration as I just wanted my dad back. Valerie was talkative and we discussed many of the items. She had known my father for some time and regarded him as a father like figure to her. When watching them interact the other day, before he passed, it was obvious that he felt the same for her. The fact that she was sitting beside me meant a lot. I did not have to go through that moment alone and I believe that she felt the same. We wrapped up after covering just about every aspect of the service and were assured that this would be a great remembrance.

Valerie dropped me off at the door to the apartment. She instructed me to go get some rest and consider not drinking anything. “It is okay to feel sad, Jake. It is okay to just feel…” She encouraged me to press on and lean into my feelings. The look on her face was more from disappointment than frustration towards me. There was a level of empathy still buried within her as well that sent the cue “I understand you.” She left the apartment and headed back to my Dad’s where she said she would do a quick version of chores. The sun was going down slowly and she didn’t want to let it go another day. I admired her strength and her sense of what was right. I held a slight amount of envy since that is what I wished I was feeling. The door screeched shut and echoed down the hallway as I headed towards the apartment.

I opened the door on the first try and bounded my keys on the counter. I went straight to the fridge and pulled out the large half-full bottle. “You need to sober up, Jake…” I said to myself. I took two big gulps and poured a small glass on ice. The spicy tingle in my throat memories from yesterday and I looked towards the couch. The chair was so close to the couch and the blanket pattern left in the chair indicated she laid right at my head. I recalled several words she said the prior night. Each one was full of tenderness and care. I sipped from the water glass and stood at the bar counter. I noticed the Mac open and a sticky note posted to the screen.

The realization of what was happening in a day started an implosion in me. I took a couple more big swigs from the bottle and carried my drink to the couch. I wanted to think about something else for now, and I was not sure how to do that. I felt like everything was flying at me. If I was a ship at sea – I would have been attempting to stay afloat with a cascade of enemy fire. I walked over and grabbed the Mac, and sat down on the couch. The last code word was circled now; I did not recall it being before. I entered the letters that were circled into the login screen and prepared to shut the book when it switched to a desktop. I could not believe that I got in! There were hundreds of notes and videos scattered throughout layers and layers of specific folders. I was sure that it meant something – but couldn’t stay focused long enough to think it through. I opened the older file dates and loaded the video. It was a vlog or video journal. Samuel had recorded hundreds of hours of discussion. I sipped my drink.

The darkness set in and my body became fluid. Before I knew it the video was playing to the top of my head, I passed out on the couch corner. I recalled waking up a couple more times with even more shame. I finished my glass. Valerie…

Read more of the Devastation Series.