Mortal Life Calls

chapter 1

Chapter 1




Sun set on the evening and she went to bed alone for the first time in two years. She neither slept nor dreamt that night. And woke early that next morning with a feeling of dread, like something horrible happened and she did not know what it may be.

Ding…Dong! The doorbell rang.

Jesse threw on her robe and went down to answer the door. With bated breath she slowly opened the door, hoping against hope, and praying with all she had that this did not mean what she assumed it meant.…

A tall, slim, blonde haired, pale skinned man standing there with a grim look on his face. He was quite handsome despite the grim expression. He identified himself as Detective Dan Foster.

“Ms. James, I am afraid I have bad news.”

“It’s not Jimmy is it?” Jess’ stomach tightened as butterflies began to swarm.

“I’m afraid so……………. He was in a car accident. He is in a coma at California Presbyterian Hospital. I will take you there.”

“Thank you, Detective Foster. Let me get my purse and keys.”

“Yes ma’am.”         

Jesse ran upstairs to her bedroom loft and picked up her purse off the bed but as an afterthought she took out her wallet, shoved it into a pocket of her cargo-type pants. She was not dressed fancy being it was her day off and did not want to make the detective wait for her to change. She wanted to get to the hospital as soon as humanly possible to be there for Jimmy. She let the detective drive her.

The detective drove her to the hospital. He parked in front of the building, jus outside the front doors and walked her in.

A woman in aqua colored scrubs approached him. She looked tired. Jess assumed she was working a double shift. The graveyard shift could do that to the best of us, she assumed. The nurse said, “Sir… sir, I am sorry but you have to move your car.”

Detective Foster made no attempt to reply, just pulled out his badge and held it up so she could see it.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Jess spoke up at that point. ”What room is Jimmy Johnson in?”
The nurse punched a few keys on the computer in front of her. “There is no record of a Jimmy Johnson being admitted.”

“Try James Johnson?” Detective Foster asked.

“He is in Room 512.”

Jess ran for the elevator. Pushed the button and stood waited with bated breath for its descent, looking above the doors at the activity indicator showing the direction of movement.

Detective Foster shot her a questioning look, then looked after Jess. Quickly ran to her side as she began to fidget. She looked like she was going to collapse at any minute.

“The 5th floor is I.C.U. “

When he reached the elevator, where she stood, waiting, the elevator dinged its arrival. A few seconds later the doors opened, the car was empty as she quickly walked in and turned to the control panel, frantically pushing the button for the fifth floor as tears welled up in her eyes blurring her vision.

They rode up in silence. Both afraid to say something for fear it would bring the tears in a flood of uncontrolled grief from her eyes. Dan did not want to see her lose it like that, so he bit his tongue and bided the time, waiting for the right moment.

The  doors opened and Jess flew out, running down the corridor , peeking in every room to see if it was the room Jimmy was in. No luck. She turned the corner and came upon a glass portioned area with several beds in it. She opened the door.

At that precise moment an I.C.U. nurse stopped her by saying “You can not go in there… yet. Put these on first.” Holding surgical protective gown and mask out to her.

“Thank you.” Jess said, trying to flash her an appreciative smile.

The nurse continued with her ordering of the cart she was attending and Jess went in the room unimpeded. She was allowed only five minutes visitation. After her five minutes was up, was sitting outside partition when Jimmy’s doctor came walking up to her. The name plate on the white lab coat read, “Dr. Schmidt”.

“Mrs. Johnson?”

“Ms. James, Jimmy’s fiancée.”

“Ms. James, your fiancé suffered major brain trauma. There has been bleeding in the brain and severe intracranial pressure. We don’t think he’ll make it through the night. I am sorry.” he looked worn out as he informed her of Jimmy’ prospects of recovery.

Jess plopped down in the chair and looked at the doctor blankly, not believing her ears. Tears began streaming down her cheeks as she sat back.

Detective Foster consoled her as he asked her questions about her husband.

“Ms. James, what was your husband doing driving so late on Route 17?”

“Jimmy is not my husband yet, Detective.“ she corrected his assumption. She had the desire to be “Mrs. Johnson” but would keep her maiden name for work. People trusted and loved “Jesse James” for her honest, to the point, reporting style. She worked hard to make a name for herself, and to be the darling of the media’s eye. “He was going back to work. He had to pull an all-nighter to get ready for a big meeting in Tennessee the day after next.”

“Does anyone have a grudge against him?”

“No.”

“Is there anyone that wants your husband dead?… Excuse me, your fiancé.”

“Do you think it was murder?”

“Just covering the bases.”

“Something about his accident made you suspicious?”

“I like to err on the side of caution.”

“Let me see the file. I may be able to help. I was a federal agent for two years and a trained profiler.”

“That is against policy. I‘m sorry.”

“If you need my help or policy changes give me a call, will you.”

“You will have a long wait.”

“Thank you, Detective.”

Detective Foster stood up, looked down at her, smiled and replied, “Ms. James.”

The hospital PA system echoed “CODE BLUE ROOM 512.”

Doctors and nurse ran by her pushing a crash cart that had been sitting in the hall a couple rooms away. She watched them run past her, into Jimmy’s room. It was then that she realized she would never again be able to look into his eyes and see herself floating upon calm blue seas or feel the warmth of his body again.

Jess bowed her head and, for the first time, prayed silently for Jimmy’s vitals to stabilize enough that she may see him one last time to say ‘Goodbye’.

As the filed out of the room, followed by Dr. Schmidt, she had a gut wrenching feeling in the pit of her stomach. She panicked, thinking… It’s too late. Now I will never get the chance. she would never find closure.

When Dr. Schmidt came out of the room, Jess looked up. His face held a graven look and he looked rather pale to her. “Ms. James, you better say your goodbyes now. I don’t expect him to last another hour.”

Jess walked into the room and gasped with the horror of what lie in the bed. He did not look even remotely human. Face mangled bloody mess, wires extending from covered areas of his body, ventilator pushing air in and out of his lungs. No one prepared her for this. She walked to the far side of the room, leaned over Jimmy’s mangled remains and whispered, “Jimmy, can you hear me?  I need you, my love, and will always need you.”

Jess walked down the hall past the nurses station to the vending machines, the familiar emergency call came over the PA system again. She got a coke out of the machine, What a rip-off! she thought and returned to the room.

As she approached Jimmy’s room, her hopes vanished and she had a horrible hollow feeling wash over her. They were trying to resuscitate him once more. He won’t be coming back this time…