Don’t Let Go

5. Tyler

5

Tyler

Silence.

Complete and utter silence surrounded me. It deafened me.

Nurses and doctors buzzed around as I stood in the hallway, dumbfounded.

“Can you please say that again? But slower?” I felt like a fool. No, my ears were full of cotton, and no longer heard correctly. Maybe it was because I’d been here all damn night. I honestly lost the concept of time when my phone died.

The doctor had nothing but pity as he looked from me to the chart in his hands. “I’m sorry. Your father stopped breathing. The heart attack was massive and threw a clot into his brain.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t understand. He was fine earlier.”

The doctor put his hand on my shoulder. “He was poisoned by ingesting tetrodotoxin, also known as eating ill-prepared blowfish.” He paused for a moment, squeezing my shoulder. “We did everything we could for your father.”

I nodded, still not fully grasping what those words meant.

“Do you want us to call someone for you?” the doctor asked.

I might’ve been dazed because I somehow moved a good yard away from him.

“No.” I paused, not remembering how to talk. “Just need to… sit down… for a bit.”

The doctor nodded, guiding me to a nearby chair in the waiting room. Then he left. Maybe his next patient would live.

That doctor had a name, but hell if I remembered it. My body wouldn’t stop trembling.

My dad’s gone? Really? Truly?

How? Why?

Where does that leave me?

I leaned forward, placing my head between my knees to make the world stop spinning. Suddenly, the waiting room became a nauseating fair ride, and I wanted off, but it was too out of control.

I couldn’t breathe. I sat up, making my vision swim.

Jacob sat next to me. “It came out of nowhere,” he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Jacob always looked like a man with a plan. He buzzed around the house, keeping everything in order. Who sat next to me wasn’t Jacob. He stood tall at nearly six feet and always wore blue blazers no matter what. His golden-framed glasses were always clean, but now they’re smudged with fingerprints.

“What?” I wiped my cheek with the side of my hand. When did I start crying?

Jacob stared ahead at the painting of a palm tree. “After your game, James came into the office to catch up on some stuff. We took a break to eat some seafood from a restaurant we always ordered from. I didn’t think about how deadly the blowfish could be.” He choked on a sob. “A little while later, he looked pained, like he couldn’t breathe and clenched his chest.” Jacob had a cup of coffee in his hand, but he wasn’t drinking it. Instead, he slowly tapped his thumb on the lid. “I called 911 right away, and I thought we made it here in time…” He looked at the water stain on the ceiling. “I can’t believe this.”

“No kidding,” I said through clenched teeth, staring at my sneakers.

“It’s not your fault.” He dropped a hand on my knee. “Things happen. I don’t—”

“Save it.” I stood up, shoving my hands into my pockets. “I can’t right now.”

It didn’t make any sense. My father didn’t eat a lot of seafood, but we haven’t spent much time together since he became senator. Maybe that changed.

Jacob gathered himself and stood as if someone controlled him by strings. “Tyler, I’m here for you. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll start planning the funeral and all that in the morning. Go get some rest.” He squeezed my shoulder.

I closed my eyes, hoping this was all a nightmare. Jacob’s phone buzzed. He looked at it and then at me.

“Answer it. I’m going home.” I waved him off, turning toward the elevators.

Part of me wanted Jacob to ignore the call and offer to drive me home. I wasn’t sure if I should drive with my body shaking so much. When I reached the elevator and hit the down arrow, I knew he wasn’t following. His voice echoed down the hall as he moved further away. Maybe I was crazy, but I could’ve sworn I heard him laughing.

My brain was mush. I moved on autopilot throughout the hospital and walked outside to the parking lot feeling like I was infected with the zombie virus, and soon none of these aching emotions would matter because I’d be dead inside.

My stomach was left behind in that crappy plastic chair in the waiting room. No dinner tonight. I got in my car and hit the steering wheel. I hit it again and again, screaming like a lunatic.

How did life get better after this? How did kids move on after shit like this? There was no way to. There couldn’t be.