NUMB by Judy Colella (the best books to read .txt) đ
- Author: Judy Colella
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âMostly track and field â he was a decathlete.â
âReally! His medals are for the decathlon?â
âTwice, yes.â
âOh, damn. No wonder he was so strong! Hey, Iâm really sorry. Weâre doing all we can for him, and lately, he seems to have begun coming out of his self-imposed amnesia.â
âWeâve talked to him about the importance of the grieving process. It was obvious he didnât want to hear it, but he couldnât go anywhere to avoid hearing it.â Rufino put out a hand and nodded at the paper Jax held.
âOh. Here.â He passed it to him after another quick glance. âTo be honest, I have no idea what to say to him. Any suggestions?â
âNo. You know him, Mr. Kinsley. We donât. Iâm sure youâll know exactly what he needs to hear, and you donât strike me as the type who would be callous or idiotic about it.â Rufino raised an eyebrow.
âI hope Iâll know. Iâm just terrified Iâll say something that will make it worse. Or thatâŠaw, hell. You know what Iâm really afraid of? That he wonât know me, or acknowledge that he does.â
Dr. Belmonde scratched his ear. âI doubt thatâll send you over the edge, though. If anything, youâll probably get even more determined to get through to him.â
Jax gave him an odd look. âAnd what makes you say that?â
âIâm a psychiatrist.â
âSo youâre good a reading people?â
âSomething like that.â He smiled. âGotta go. Miss Terry on Ward Eight had a near-fatal episode last night.â He addressed this last remark at Dr. Rufino.
âI heard. The ward nurses did a fantastic job â Iâm giving them both an in-house commendation.â
âTheyâll appreciate that. Well! I expect Iâll see you around, Mr., uh, Kinsey?â
âKinsley.â
Grin. Wave. Gone.
âI believe your brother is going to need to rest for a while. Why donât you go get something to eat. Whatâs your cell number? Iâll call you when heâs built up enough strength to have a visitor.â Rufino took out his own cell and pulled up the ap for his phone book.
Jax gave him the number. âThanks. Uh, where can I get lunch around here?â
Dr. Rufino told him, then said he would have Reception make up a Visitor Pass for both him and his car, and walked him out of the building through the nearest side door. This led to an area of walkways with a fountain in the middle. âGo that way, turn left at that first building, and youâll be back in the visitor parking area.â
âOkay. Thank you. And, uh, sorry for being a jerk before.â
âNo worries, Mr. Kinsley. Drive safe â itâs a little icy out there.â
It wasnât until he was sitting in his car waiting for the heat to kick in that the full impact of his brotherâs condition hit him. He put his head back against the headrest, closed his eyes, and let himself cry.
*******
The hum of bees mingled with the gentle, rhythmic pulse of someone playing a single, primitive drum somewhere beyond the tree line, making a pleasant, relaxing ambient sound. Jett leaned back against the large rock and smiled. Its sun-soaked surface warmed and relaxed his shoulders, filling him with a sense of energy that wasnât exactly physical, but made him feel better than he had for a long time.
Sitting beside him, Atarah stroked his hand with one finger. He turned his head, allowing the sight of her to become, at last, a part of the strange world in which heâd been living forâŠhow long had it been? He wasnât sure. Didnât matter. He also couldnât have said when, exactly, heâd begun accepting her presence in his dreams as a positive inevitability rather than a gruesome and, frankly, terrifying one. So he kept his smile in place as he gazed into her eyes.
âThereâs something I need to point out, Jett.â
He nodded.
âYou arenât alone in this. What youâve done to yourself has to be fixed.â
âNot sure what you mean.â
âWell.â She snuggled closer, resting her head against his chest. âYour family. Your brother. What makes you think heâll be able to handle the way youâve all but destroyed your body and abandoned your mind?â
âIs that what Iâve done?â
âYes, Jett. You canât even sit up on your own.â
âAnd what makes you think my brother or anyone else will see me like this? No one knows where I am.â
âReally? Letâs be logical here.â She reached out and grabbed a tiny white rabbit that had tried to skitter past, and held it up by the ears. It was wearing a vest, had human hands sheathed in white gloves, and if the way its eyes were bugging out was any indication, it was deeply afraid. âSilly wabbit,â Atarah whispered. âTricks are for treats.â She dropped it and it zoomed off, presumably toward its hole. She turned her head so she could look directly at Jett. âHow much like you is Jax?â
âQuite a lot, as you well know.â
âHmm. Exactly. Which means heâs probably figured out where you would have gone. That means heâs come to visit you.â
âWhen?â
âYou know when. Before you fell asleep, goofy boy. You saw him but wouldnât admit it. I know you did.â Atarah was now sporting the robes of a judge and was holding a gavel. âMy verdicts are never wrong.â
âAw, crap. Really? But - â
âAnd thereâs more! What if Iâm not really dead? What if Iâm in danger somewhere and need you? Can you help me in the condition youâre in? Nope. You could have, the way you used to be. Not now. Donât you think you should fix that?â
âBut you are dead, âTarah. If not, wouldnât someone have told me?â
âWho? No one here is supposed to know who you are, remember? And even if your brother did show up here today, he might be afraid to tell you. Youâre already so unbalanced.â
Before he could respond, he noticed the warmth at his back was gone. So was the ground. In fact, he was standing up, arms out, balancing on a thin wire that a quick, terrifying glance told him had to be at least five miles above the ground.
âThirty thousand feet, Captain,â said Atarah. âYouâd think the water wouldnât be as hard as the earth, but when you hit it at the right speed, it certainly is! Aha! Howâs your balance, Jett-Plane?â
For the first time since the dark dreams had started, he found he didnât want to fall, to plunge to his death. âHow could you still be alive?â He had to shout, because up there, the wind was fierce and loud.
âNo idea, but without a body, itâs entirely possible. And like I said, wouldnât your instincts have told you there was no hope? OrâŠdid they?â
He thought about that one for a long while. Long enough for his location to change; he found himself sitting in the front pew at the church where he and Atarah had gotten married. âNo. My instincts havenât told me youâre dead. But I figured I was in denial.â
âO promise me that someday...â she sang, and then scooted over from the end of the pew where sheâd been. She grabbed him by the arms and turned him to face her. âPromise me something, Jett.â
âWhat?â
âNO. Promise. PROMISE!â The shark teeth, which had always been there during these nightmares, and which heâd learned to ignore, shrank to nothing, replaced by her normal ones as she shouted her final demand.
âOkay! I promise.â
âGood. What I want you promise is to get well again. Strong. To get back to who you were. Look, there are two ways to see this.â She stood, paced to the altar, came back, and knelt in front of him, her eyes pleading. âIf I died, where do you suppose I went?â
âHeaven. Absolutely.â He smiled.
âRight. So if Iâm alive, I have to be somewhere, yes? And probably need your help. But if I am dead, that means Iâm somewhere else watching you self-destruct. That isnât heaven, Jett. Itâs hell, pure and simple. Is that what you want for me?â
âNo! Of course not, and you know it!â
âDo I? Your behavior says otherwise. The only way to be sure that Iâm all right, then, is for you to get well.â She leaned closer, her eyes narrowing. âSTOP MAKING THIS ABOUT YOU!!!â
He woke up. And sitting next to his bed, his eyes red and puffy, was Jax.
Time to reboot.
*******
âI never thought of you a naughty person, Mrs. Johanan. I am standing corrected.â
âWhat do you want, Doctor?â Chara demanded, trying not to think about how far away that nasal, accented voice sounded. Or how much she hated it.
âI want you to suffer as I have suffered. You lied to me, dear lady, and for it, you will pay my original fee regardless of your attempt to renege. You will also never see her again, or your grandchild.â
âMy what?â As soon as she asked, she was nearly knocked over by two hard facts â one, the girl was pregnant, and two, she had just admitted sheâd been unaware of this. A third fact followed immediately and made Chara want to hit her head against the wall, which was that she never should have let the monster on the other end of the phone know of her ignorance. âWhat have you done with her, you pig?â
âNothing. Yet. I shall wait until she gives birth to the spawn of that idiot athlete, and then will make her mine. In the meantime, I shall refrain from operating to alleviate the cause of her amnesia. And yes, Mrs. Johanan, I have given to her, the thorough neurological examination and several MRIs, and know exactly what is wrong. She suffered some kind of head trauma. You call me name, but what did you do to her to make this happen?â
âI did nothing! It was an accident â she wasnât supposed to get hurt!â
After jumping from the plane with the pilot, Atarah should have landed safely near the boat waiting for them, but the aircraft spiraled closer to the two rather than farther away, and she was hit by debris in the resulting explosion. Originally, Chara had arranged to hide her daughter with a good friend, the woman who Atarah now thought was her mother. Jett would have been notified immediately, of course. Once International law enforcement and the FBI could get proof of the doctorâs plan, and he was arrested, the young couple would have been happily reunited and it would have been over. But when Atarah regained consciousness and didnât even know who she was, the plan changed. They cut her hair, told her she had a brain disease that caused her to forget things, and arranged for her to be with Chara and Seth as a housekeeper and maid. A soon as Seth was healthy and no longer needed Dr. Kobienko, they would send Atarah to a neurologist in the United States to see about restoring her memory. She hadnât been sure when or how to inform Jett, but then he had disappearedâŠNaturally, Chara said none of this to the doctor. It wouldnât have mattered anyway.
âAn accident? You are terrible mother, Mr. Johanan. Now I take care of this angel. She is mine as always she should have been. She is too good for some stupidâŠwhat is this wordâŠjock! They are all of them morons, even Russian ones. I am sorry this magnificent girl was violated by him and am only glad child mostly has intelligence of mother.â
Guess you didnât bother to learn more about who Jett is, you disgusting fiend! And now youâve ruined his life, too! âBurn in hell, Dr. Kobienko.â She hung up. There was no way to find him at this point, no point in continuing the conversation. If she was reading him right, heâd be calling again â to gloat, to torture her, to pay her back for making him think her
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