ONLY HALF THE MAN I USED TO BE
Chapter Five
Rose and Fabrizio headed back up
the steel stairs towards the warmth of the hospital ward. They reached the room
Jack was in and Rose tapped lightly on the door before going in. Her cheeks
flushed a deep red as she saw Jack in bed without his shirt on. His torso was
tanned and toned from hours of laboring at his old work. His arm was wrapped up
in a sling across his chest. He had a look of deep sadness on his face, which
lifted when he saw Rose, and it lifted even more when he saw that Fabrizio
stood behind her.
"Fabri!" he yelled as
Rose and Fabrizio headed over to the bed. Rose stood next to the doctor, who
was still there, as Fabrizio pulled his friend up into a giant hug.
"Jack!" Fabrizio said,
his eyes shining. "I didn’t think I would see you again, no? Then Rose
tells me you are here!"
"Fabri, I’m so glad you’re
all right!" he said, hugging his friend back with the unaffected arm.
Fabrizio sat down in a chair
beside the bed and Rose sat in one on the other side.
"I’m off now," the
doctor said. "I’m sure you will have a lot to talk about."
"Bye, doc," Jack said.
"Thank you so much for
looking after him," Rose said.
"I did what I could,"
he said faintly, looking slightly sad. He left the room, shutting the door
behind him.
"Is your arm all right,
Jack?" Rose asked, reaching a hand out to pat the sling.
"Uh…we can talk about that
later," he said, some sadness in his voice as he tried to change the
subject. "Fabri, how did you get out alive?" he asked, turning to his
friend.
"Well, I had to. I must go
to America, yes?" he said brightly. "I could not move for a while. It
was so cold. Mama mia! But then I had to swim. I said to me, Swim, Fabrizio.
I got to a boat and they pulled me in."
"That’s great, Fabri,"
he said, smiling at his friend who, not much longer than twenty-four hours ago,
Jack had thought to be dead. "Have you seen Tommy?" he asked, somehow
only just daring to ask the question.
"He is not with us,"
Fabrizio said, sadness haunting his eyes. "The bastardo shoot him! Shoot
him for trying to get a boat!" he raged in his thick accent. He started to
curse in Italian. Jack, after being with him for so long, knew what Fabrizio
was saying. Rose did not, but she could guess by the sadness and horror on his
face.
"Oh, God…" was all Jack
managed to say. The three friends were silent for a moment, mourning their
friend’s death.
"Jack, I must ask you,"
Fabrizio said. "Have you seen ‘a Helga?"
"Sorry," Jack said
sadly. If Fabrizio felt half as much love for Helga as Jack did for Rose, he
must be going through hell. "Haven’t seen her, but I’ve been stuck in
here. I’m sure she got in a boat with her ma."
"I hope so," Fabrizio
said. "Can I go and look now?" he asked, as if he had to ask
permission to leave.
"Of course you can,
Fabri," Jack said warmly. "Just come and see me again soon,
yeah?"
"Yes, yes," he said,
waving at the pair before he left.
"Boy, I hope he finds
her," Jack muttered as the door closed.
"So do I, Jack," Rose
said, pulling herself onto the bed beside him. "So do I. Is your arm all
right?" she asked him. "You didn’t want to answer before…" Rose
broke off after she looked over at Jack. Tears were pooling in his blue eyes.
"It’s…it’s…" he tried
to say. He was in denial. This couldn’t happen. It wasn’t true. "It’s
dead, in a manner of speaking."
"What?" Rose asked him,
not sure if she understood.
"I can never use it again,
Rose. The blood stopped flowing to it out in the cold water. It’s virtually a
frozen arm. Rose…" he said, staring at her passionately. "I can never
draw again…I can never touch you again. That first time, and now…" he
said, breaking off.
Rose pulled him close to her,
rubbing his back soothingly.
"Do you…do you still love
me?" he choked out.
"What?" she asked,
shocked that he ever could doubt that.
"It’s not fair to you,
Rose," he said. "I'm only half a man now. I can’t touch you. I can’t
work. Damn, I won’t be able to do much for a while, until I’m used to it."
"Jack," Rose said
sternly, pulling his face up to view hers. "I love you with two arms, one
arm, or no arms. As long as I’ve got even the smallest piece of you, I’ll love
it."
Rose found herself thinking, Why
us? Why him? Why now? Hadn’t he been through enough without losing his
major passion in life--drawing? He had lost his parents as a child, lost his
friends and nearly himself to the cruel Atlantic Ocean. When she had found
Fabri alive, she had thought things were getting better. Jack’s dearest friend
was still alive, but now this? How could God ever wish this on such a wonderful
person?
Jack didn’t say anything, for
nothing needed to be said. He was filled with anger and upset that he would
never be able to draw again, never be able to feel the rough charcoal in his
fingers, and even worse…he would never feel the tiny explosions in the ends of
his fingertips that happened when he touched Rose’s creamy skin. He would never
stroke her hair again with that hand, never hold her close to him.
*****
The pair sat together, this
latest sadness drawing them even closer together, unaware that Cal was watching
them from the doorway. He had followed Rose and that Italian idiot and had seen
the whole little scene, heard every word. It stung when his fiancée was telling
another man, not a man even, a gutter rat, that she loved him. It stung when
she looked at him with such love and passion that she had never looked at Cal
with. But already a plan was forming in his twisted mind. A plan he would use
to win Rose back. Because as he had said before, he always won.