December: Chapter 2
Time came and went in spurts now. Adam felt crazy and ridiculous as he fought to stay conscious and not vomit. Those two tasks took all his concentration, and kept his mind off the fact that his head felt so full of pressure, he was afraid it might explode.
He was aware of paramedics in the room first, moving him to a stretcher, and then outside. The ambulance ride was chaotic, but Adam couldn’t focus on anything except not passing out again. The stupid oxygen mask they put on his face made Adam feel more nauseous and he fought it.
Someone assured him in a voice that sounded like it was coming through a tunnel with intense acoustics.
The words “It’s okay,” echoed in Adam’s head for multiple seconds.
By the time they reached the hospital, and he was being treated in the emergency room, he was aware of other things. They were taking his boots off. Those were his favorite pair. He wondered what would be done with them, and if he would get them back.
Then, for some reason, his head got clearer, and he could relax. So, he stopped fighting so hard, allowing himself to slip back and forth between the world around him, and a quiet darkness.
--
Kris waited impatiently for the show to start, fielding calls from Katy, who wanted to know if he’d gotten to see Adam before the show to give him the bag of medicine. When she wasn’t calling, it was Jesse. Kris’s oldest had apparently had his entire life ruined by the fact that he wasn’t old enough to go to Adam’s concert, even though he and Adam “hung out all the time.”
Even though Jesse had a point, Kris wasn’t about to bring his eight-year-old foster son to a concert that contained decidedly adult lyrics and choreography. That didn’t mean Kris wasn’t going to enjoy it, though. He needed a free night, and wished Katy could have joined him, but she was fine staying home with the boys.
His phone rang again, and he glared at the word “Home” that showed in the display window.
“Hello?” he asked, praying for patience.
“So, did it start yet?” Jesse wanted to know. It sounded to Kris like he had gotten over tonight’s injustice.
“Nope, not yet. They’re running behind,” Kris said, raising his voice to be heard over the insanely loud crowd.
“Well, why the hell not?” Jesse asked good-naturedly.
“Jesse,” Katy warned in the background.
“It just slipped out,” Jesse defended. “I meant to say heck, anyway.”
“Apologize,” Kris reminded.
“It’s too late to apologize,” Jesse sang in a bluesy falsetto. “Too late!”
Kris checked his watch and craned his neck to see if anyone official was around to see what the hold up was. In the back of his mind, he thought the same thing he did every time he caught Jesse singing. The kid had a decent voice. He struggled academically in most everything. He was constantly in trouble for cheating on his spelling words, and still somehow, got none correct. But he could sing.
“Sorry, Mama Katy,” Jesse said, tone contrite.
“Kris,” a deep voice interrupted.
He glanced up, and up some more until he saw Big Mike, Adam’s security. He was studying Kris seriously.
“Hey, I gotta let you go. All right? Love you,” Kris said hanging up quickly.
“What’s up? Adam’s never 45 minutes behind schedule,” he asked Big Mike curiously.
But Big Mike just motioned for Kris to follow him down elevators and hallways and into a waiting car. They were driving for several minutes before the bigger man spoke. By now, Kris’s insides twisted nervously.
“Tommy thought I should let y’all know…Adam collapsed backstage. They took him to the hospital. Figured since y’all are so close, you’d want to know.”
“Yeah, of course,” Kris nodded, shaking his head. “Is he, like, dehydrated, or something? Is it the flu?”
But Big Mike just shrugged massive shoulders. “Nobody could tell. He was sick all over the place, and couldn’t talk.”
Kris’s heart raced in his chest. Nothing was louder than the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. Without knowing details, Kris was sure that this was bad.
Closing his eyes, he prayed desperately, wishing he had paid more attention.
--
Adam regained consciousness once when an unfamiliar voice told him he had to have surgery, and again when someone else asked if he had ever had anesthesia before.
He had, but he couldn’t respond appropriately. He couldn’t respond at all Why couldn’t he talk, anyway?
In the time it took for the anesthesiologist to secure the mask on his face, and for the gas to take effect, Adam thought, for the first time since this ordeal began, about his own mortality.
His own concert songs sang themselves back to him in his own voice. Hanukkah and Christmas songs mixed themselves in, too. His heart beat wildly in his chest, letting him know he was still here…He thought of Kris, his best friend, and of how much Adam wanted Kris here with him now…He couldn’t remember the last time he’d said “I love you” to his brother, and hadn’t gotten a chance to say good-bye to his parents…What about the concert tonight? …How could he die? Where was his warning? He was only twenty-nine! But still, this might be the end…
His last thought was left half-formed as unconsciousness stole him again.