He tried to open his eyes, but he was so tired and scared. He hurt all over. Venus wasn’t finished coming out of his forehead. He kept hearing voices…voices through the pounding in his head.
“Papa?” The little voice said. “Papa, I’m here…”
He felt something, someone squeeze his finger. People were moaning and crying. He couldn’t focus for all the tears and the moans. There was a hand on his shoulder. He looked up from his own sobs.
“Mr. Justyn?” The nurse said. “It’s time to go.”
He felt arms go around his waist and a head lay on his shoulder. Something tugged at his fingers. Ian looked down. He was breathing so hard he was having trouble focusing his eyes, but the tugging on his fingers.
He was there, in his arms, and his perfect little hand tugged his finger. “My baby…” Ian choked. “My boy…”
“He’s beautiful, Ian.” Aunt Hil said, trying not to sob.
Ian looked at her, eyes red with tears, but a strong smile on her face. “Com’mon son. It’s time to go.”
She tried to help him take a step toward the door. Ian looked back. He knew he shouldn’t, but he had to. He only caught a glimpse of her face before they pulled the sheet up. His knees buckled with a sob.
He felt hands all around him, holding him up, clutching him. There was so much pain, his body was racked with it. He felt himself being led to the door. He wanted to go back. He couldn’t leave her alone.
Someone grabbed his chin. They made him turn his face toward them. “Child, look at me.” He felt the pull on his chin again. “Look at me.” Aunt Hil’s voice said. “You gots to move on, honey.”
“It hurts Aunt Hil.” Ian’s lips were trembling so he could barely speak. “It hurts so much.”
“I know. Believe me I know.” Ian felt her strong warm hand slip from his chin to the back of his head. “But she’s still here. Look, child. She’s still here.”
He let her gently push his head down to focus on the bundle in his arms, the baby tugging at his finger. The child opened his eyes and looked back at him. They were Taylor’s eyes…and her little nose. He felt the baby’s strong grip pulling his finger to his perfect little mouth, her lips.
All the black, black hair; just like hers, just like his. Ian’s heart leapt. He was holding his wife in his arms, but she wasn’t still. She wasn’t that gray lifeless color. She was pink, and warm and so, so tiny.
The baby sighed. The baby looked at him and sighed.
Ian trembled. There was so much pain. He hurt all over. He looked up and saw the figures in the hallway. Jude and Janie and Kyle, all clutching each other and all wailing so loud. It made his head hurt.
He looked down at the child, the sweet innocent child.
Suddenly he was somewhere else, cowering in the corner terrified. His Uncle Nate was standing over him, smelling of liquor and his own vomit. Ian shook his head.
His mind roared back there. The bodies were the same, but the faces were different. The cowering child in the corner had his wife’s face, his baby’s innocent eyes, and the drunken man in the dirty underwear was him.
He wanted to scream. He tried so hard to cry out, but his voice would only escape in piercing silence. He pulled the baby boy to his chest. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.
Ian held the little head with his hands and held it to his tear stained check. He was so warm and fragile. How could he stop that from happening this baby? How could he keep him away from the life of tears and pain he had already been born into?
He focused on the figures across the room. They had noticed him standing there. They wiped their eyes and tried to look strong. No one said a word. No one could kill the horrible silence hanging between them.
He started to cry again. The tears stung his face as they dripped from his eyes down his cheeks and off his chin. He took a heavy step, clutching his son so tight.
Ian knew he had to get there. He knew it was the only way to save him. He throbbed with pain. Another step, his feet were like lead pulling through cold tar.
“He’s so perfect.” She said, eyes so red and cheeks so puffy.
Ian kissed his son’s head and pulled him down to look at him. The baby squirmed ever so gently. His little fist went to his mouth, and he opened his eyes and smiled. Just a little, just enough to make Ian have to catch the sob hurling from his chest.
“He looks just like…” She couldn’t say it. Kyle’s hand went to her back to give her strength.
Ian could only nod his head. The pain was more than he could stand. One more burst of energy was all he needed. That was all.
It was hard. He wanted to hold him close. Instead he held the perfect child to her. He saw the look in her eyes. He had to lean in just to keep standing up, almost crushing the innocence between them.
He felt her take him, hold him. He felt her warmth. He could see her look in his face, Taylor’s face, and smile. She looked up at Ian.
It ripped all his skin away, but Ian took a step back. Janie looked at Kyle and Kyle looked in Ian’s eyes. Ian could feel the salt spraying over the wounds where the skin of his heart had been.
He looked down at his baby boy. The baby opened his eyes. His touched his little nose and brushed the pad of his finger gently across his cheek. Ian closed his eyes and memorized the sweet pink softness of the baby’s skin.
His kissed him, so gently. A tear fell to the baby’s forehead. “I love you. I love you with all my heart.”
Ian stood up straight and took a deep breath, then turned around and walked away into the darkness of the pain.
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