Date: Sat, 9 Mar 2002 12:40:17 -0500 From: Michael Raburn Subject: Dylan's Hope 5 THIS WORK IS FULLY PROTECTED BY U.S. COPYRIGHT LAWS. NO PORTION OF THIS WORK MAY BE COPIED OR REDISTRIBUTED BY ANY MEANS WITHOUT THE EXPRESS CONSENT OF ITS AUTHOR. THIS WORK DEALS WITH A FICTIONAL RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN TWO MEN. IF READING ABOUT HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS OR SEXUAL CONTACT BETWEEN TWO MEN IS EITHER ILLEGAL IN YOUR AREA OR OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READY ANY FURTHER. ANY SIMILARITIES TO ANY PERSON LIVING OR DEAD ARE PURELY COINCIDENTAL. THIS WORK IS ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. DYLAN'S HOPE Michael A. Raburn Chapter 5 "Jon, wake up!" I cried frantically, trying to shake him back to consciousness. "Honey, come on. Can you hear me?" He had fallen like a ton of bricks after he looked at his leg. Now I had to figure out what to do. The cut in his leg looked really serious; there was blood everywhere. It had already soaked his pant leg down to the boot and was running onto the ground. I didn't have a knife on me to cut his jeans so I unbuckled his pants and pulled them down as far as I could. His boots were in the way so I had to stop and take them off first. When I got the bunched up jeans pulled off his left leg, blood spurted from the wound. I remembered enough from first aid classes to know he had cut into an artery and that if I didn't do something soon, he could die from the blood loss. I shucked my flannel shirt and pulled off the white tee shirt I had on. Using that as a tourniquet and bandage I wrapped it around his leg. Shit, my cell phone was in the cabin. I didn't want to leave him alone, but I had to get help. I checked his pulse rate then ran off towards the house. The phone was on the coffee table in the living room. I grabbed it and flipping it open ran back to Jon. What the hell, 'no signal'? Shit, the damned phone won't work. He's bleeding to death and the phone won't work. I felt myself slipping into panic and tried to focus. If I didn't get something done soon, I'd lose him. After all these years of waiting and hoping, I can't, I just can't. Car keys, where are the car keys. Jon's pocket. I grabbed his jeans and headed for the jeep. I rummaged through his pockets till I found the keys. Which one opens this damned thing? Oh, yeah, there's a clicker. Okay, Dylan, crank the car, back up so you don't have to drag him so far. Yeah, this will work. I don't know where the hospital is. Fuck! Somebody in town will I know. Jon, hold on. I jumped out to check on him. He's still breathing. Come on honey, got to get help. I opened the tailgate then ran around to release the levers that lowered the back seats. Now how was I going to get him in? He easily outweighed me by fifty pounds. I sat him up and got around behind him. Putting my hands in his armpits, I tried to stand him up. No, that won't work. I started backing towards the jeep, pulling him along with me. I got him as far as the truck and realized I'd have to climb in backwards to get him in with me. Looking down I noticed the blood had soaked the tee shirt and was running back down towards his foot. Should I put something under his leg to keep the blood off the upholstery? Aw, fuck that. We'll get it cleaned if... No, can't think like that. Gotta stay calm for Jon. Got it in gear. Wait, close the doors dummy. Got to concentrate. He'll be okay. Got to get to the hospital. I jumped back in and put he jeep in gear. Driving down the narrow driveway I tried to remember how we got here and which way to turn when we reached the paved road. I reached over the console to touch him. He was still warm but his breath seemed shallower. I caressed his face, ran my fingers through the soft hair of his beard. "Jon, hold on for me, please." I pleaded. "I need you, Andrea needs you. Please hold on. I'll get us there." Yes, turn right at the road. What's the speed limit? Who the fuck cares how fast I drive? Remember to look for the blue road signs that indicate where a hospital will be. I started talking to Jon. I wasn't sure whether he heard me, but I talked on. If I kept talking he would have to listen. Right? "Honey, I love you so much. Andrea loves you. Hang in there, baby. Remember that time..." He was so mad at me. I'd never seen him this angry. I had to get away. "Dylan, come here!" he yelled at me. "What do you have to say for yourself?" "Ah, I'm sorry." I stammered, trying to hide behind the bushes. I had this bad habit of riding my bike down the driveway and bumping against the fence that separated the back yard from the driveway. I used it as a stopping device rather than use the brakes on the bike. Andrea always got a laugh at me screeching to a halt against that fence. Jon had warned me many times that I'd get hurt doing that and to stop it. We had just finished fourth grade and were free for the summer. We'd been to the swimming pool in the neighborhood and were coming back home. As usual I sped into the drive and ran into the fence. This time though, it had broken when I skidded into it. I went flying head over heels into the back yard, landing with the bike and several broken boards on top of me. My knees and elbows were scrapped pretty badly but the fence was the worst hurt. How could I repair this before Jon got home? He warned me so many times. "You're gonna get it this time." Andrea taunted. "Help me fix it!" I pleaded. We got the bike out of the back yard and started trying to put the fence back together. If we could match up the broken boards we might could get it to look like it was okay. I guess it didn't work. "Come here, son." He turned me around so he could get to my bottom. I was afraid of him spanking me. He never had before, but he had never been this mad either. He swatted my bottom about six times hard enough for me to feel it. I started crying after the first couple. Not because they really hurt, but because I had disappointed him. Then he pulled me into his lap. I buried my face in his chest and cried. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'll never do it again." I stammered. "I know son, I know." He tried to soothe me. He held me for several minutes until I regained my composure then looked at my legs. "Come on inside, Dylan. Let's get you cleaned up." "Yes, sir." I limped towards the door. He reached down and picked me up into his strong arms and hugged me to his chest. He took me to the bathroom where he kept the first aid supplies. We were always getting cut or scraped up so he always kept plenty of bandages and ointments to use. He wet a washcloth and cleaned my knees and elbows. All the time he worked on me, he talked softly about responsibility and being safe. He told me several times how upset he would be if I got really hurt. "There you go. Good as new." He smiled at me. "Well, they will be in a few days." He giggled. Blue sign, I see a blue sign. 'Library.' Who cares where the library is right now. Keep looking. There it is, the capital H in white. Okay turn right. There it is. Look for the emergency entrance. "Somebody help me!" I yelled as I threw the jeep in park and jumped out. No one was standing around outside so I ran towards the doors screaming for help. "Help me! He's bleeding to death!" I yelled to the lady at the reception desk. I was flailing my arms and pointing to the truck. Several people started running towards me so I turned to lead them out. I opened the tailgate and a nurse and I climbed in to help get him out. They all started asking questions at the same time. I tried to answer as best I could but I'm not sure they heard me. "What happened?" "What's his name?" "Does he have insurance?" They got him out and loaded onto a gurney and started rolling him towards the door. I was holding his hand and had no intention of letting go. In the midst of the chaos, the nurse that had climbed in the car with me managed to get my attention. "What's your name?" She asked. "Dylan." I managed to focus enough to answer. "Dylan, what happened?" "Chopping firewood, I startled him. Dinner was ready. The steaks are still on the grill." I rambled. "Don't worry about them. We'll take good care of Jon for you." She smiled at me. "But, you need to calm down. You're hyperventilating and you'll pass out if you don't calm down. Look, you're shivering and you're covered in blood. Where's your shirt?" She stopped walking and pulled my by my elbow as the gurney kept rolling towards the trauma bay. "You'll need to wait here. I'll get you a blanket and show you where you can clean up." She started. "He needs me." I sobbed, trying to catch my breath and trying to get around her, back to Jon. "Daddy!" I screamed. The walls were moving, the florescent lights flickering. I looked to where they had taken him, following the blood trail with my eyes. I looked back at the nurse but couldn't focus my eyes. My knees buckled and I was falling. TO BE CONTINUED