Again (Brandy Jeffus)

overwhelms me. I feel like I’ve just been through a triathlon. I want to see Eli so bad it hurts. I want to kiss him, to hold him and lie down next to him. He was almost taken away from me again, and the thought made me emotional.
    An hour later, when the doctor comes and lets us know that Eli can have visitors I jump out of my seat. Dizziness clouds my head, but I follow the doctor. The need to be with Eli is overpowering. His parents graciously let me in as the first visitor.
    He looks like he has shrunk. His skin is pale; his hair greasy and lifeless. A standard white hospital blanket’s pulled halfway up his chest. Bandages cover his chest. He locks eyes with me and gives me his crooked smile and I nearly collapse in tears. I tentatively grab his hand when I reach his bedside. “Hi there, handsome.”
    “Hey, baby doll. Are you okay? You didn’t get hurt did you?” His caring, selfless question makes tears fall down my cheeks.
    I shake my head no, “I’m fine, how are you? Are you hurting?”
    “Nah, I’m good right now. They’ve given me lots of good drugs. Ha!” He smiles again, “Come here babe. You can lie down beside me.” He pats the bed and I gingerly climb in, careful not to touch or bump his chest. My head is even with his and he kisses my nose, forehead and cheeks.
    “You saved my life today, Eli,” I whisper. I trace his eyebrows with my finger.
    “It was nothing I wouldn’t do again. I’m glad you made it unscathed. It’s been a heck of a day, huh?” his voice is raw with emotion. I nod and close my eyes, as his lips find my forehead again. Things are content as I lie here beside him. Every breath he takes is a blessing and makes me relieved that I haven’t lost him. We are still for a long time when he finally speaks.
    “You know where I want to go when I get out of here?”
    “Where’s that?” I whisper.
    “I’d like to go to church. Situations like this kind of put things in perspective.”
    I look into his eyes and he beams as I reply, “I think that is a wonderful idea.”
    ***
    Eli is released from the hospital a few days later. The newspaper and TV station did a feature on him which embarrassed him to no end. While he was in the hospital the family of the shooter had contacted him and apologized. Eli quickly offered his condolences for the loss of their son and even sent them flowers.
    That gesture shook me to my core. The shooter had almost killed him, yet Eli is so selfless; so thoughtful and mindful of the parents losing their child that his heart automatically went out to them. He didn’t feel sorry for himself, or complain about the pain. He was too busy trying to make a selfless gesture.
    While he was in the hospital, I did a few sketches of him sleeping. Then, from memory, I sketched a few scenes from the shootout. It was scary re-living those seconds but therapeutic to put it on paper.
    That night, after he was released, it was decided that he would stay at Mama’s. We were sitting on the couch watching late night TV when I get up to retrieve the sketches.
    I hand him the pictures, one by one, without explanation and his face reflects admiration.
    “I had to capture those images. They were burning a hole in my brain.” I explain, sitting down next to him.
    “I’m glad you did. I look pretty bad ass in them. You should put a costume on me though!” Eli laughs out loud at his own joke, “Seriously though, thank you B. I love them. I love all your work. You’ve always been so talented.” He pulls me closer to him.
    “That was one of the scariest situations I’ve been in. It felt so surreal the entire time, you know? There was one close call overseas, where I really thought I was knocking on death’s door and this came in as a close second to that.”
    Sighing, I scoot closer to him, “I know baby. It puts things in perspective for sure.”
    “It does. My thoughts kept going to you. I prayed that if I were going to die that you wouldn’t see. I wouldn’t want that burdening you for the rest of your life, you know? I kept thinking about the day I asked you to marry me; the look on your face when you saw the rose petals. It was the happiest day of my life. It really was.”
“Mine too babe,” I breathe deep and relax, “We are very lucky, so blessed to have both made it out of there alive.”
    Life has dealt me some pretty crazy cards, but things are starting to look up.
    ***
    Eli heard the crash of metal and the breaking of glass. His