Bailey By Rory M Chapter 2
"Bailey...Bailey sweetie look at mom, please?" Karen McCorristin said softly as she ran her hands threw her son's hair softly. She looked unkempt and very tired as she cooed over her half-conscious son. Her red hair was back in a ponytail with stray hairs falling around her face and in her right hand there was a rosary.
Bailey could see his mother, but barely. She seemed fuzzy and to be moving extremely fast for a woman standing still, and only two feet way from his face. His body felt heavy and slow as he tried to reposition himself to look into his mothers face. There was a tube in each arm, one in his nose, a breathing mask, and various other wires, tubes and machines all over his body. His chest hurt when he breathed, and his vision seemed to make everything in the room go by fast, even though it wasn't moving. He blinked his eyes open slightly for his mother.
"Oh God, he's awake." His mother said with an exclamation of relief.
Three other figures rushed up alongside the oversized hospital bed, which made Bailey's eyes hurt, forcing him to shut them. He didn't understand where he was, he couldn't remember getting there and he didn't know why he felt so awful, but it was a struggle enough to breath let alone talk or focus too much on the surroundings. His father came up the other side of the bed, looking equally as haggard as his mother, to cup his cheek and hold his left hand, while he leaned in and gently kissed the boy on his forehead. Near the end of the bed were Bailey's grandparents, his Grandfather holding on and gently rubbing both of his feet and his grandmother clenching onto his left calve like if she let go the boy would drift into unconsciousness, once again. They all decided to talk at once, making sounds echo and become louder in his head. He winced at the confusion and the swarm of concerned faces around him.
"Hit the buttun, the docter need see him!" Bailey's grandmother barked at his mother, who was closest to the call button attached to the bed.
"I already hit it, mother. Calm down, or you'll get him excited." Karen said in a low tone to her mother-in-law.
Bailey was beginning to figure out what happened. Memories of the last time he was awake were coming to him in bits and pieces, but he couldn't think straight with all the people around him or the reverberating voices. His father was softly talking to him and asking him questions about his health, his mother and grandmother were doing the same but in a stern way, in-between bickering, and his grandfather still rubbed his feet and said nothing at the foot of the bed.
A doctor entered the room and made his way through the small crowd that had gathered around the bed. He was nondescript, and not very formal. He said nothing to the McCorristins' as he checked Bailey's pupils and a few motor skills.
"You gave us a little scare, kiddo." He said as he left.
Bailey couldn't get a word out beyond a croak and the room was spinning more out of control by the minute. He shut his eyes to his family and the spinning room before he was sick. His father squeezed his hand and kissed him again as he coaxed him back into sleep.
"You two, shut yer gobs and quit the malarkey fer once!" The grandfather finally said to the two women who were trying to comfort the boy...in best intentions. Bailey drifted back to sleep in the madness of the room. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Bail, Bail you gotta get up, just for a sec babe." The soft tone of his father returned the boy to consciousness, or at least the edge of it. A group of two nurses and the same doctor from before were surrounding the bed as Bailey once again tried to focus on the room. It was a little more lucid, but everything still seemed to move in fast forward...yet not at all.
"Bailey, we need to take that tube out of your nose, you don't need it anymore. It's going to feel strange but it's not going to hurt, just lie still and breath a deep breath for me, ok?" The doctor said to a mildly anxious Bailey, who couldn't stand medical procedures of the smallest kind, no matter what they were. The doctor grasped the tube and gently started a steady but swift pull from the boy's nostril. It hurt; it felt as if something were being ripped through his throat and nose. He couldn't help coughing when the tube slid out. The oxygen mask was replaced by a nose strip and the doctor left, leaving the two nurses to clean up the patient and remake the bed.
The sponge bath went in a blur of discomfort and confusion for Bailey; he still was heavily affected by the drugs and was on the verge of crying out, if he could. The curtains were drawn once more to the rest of the room and the familiar face of his father reappeared. Collin McCorristin looked like he hadn't shaved or slept in a few days, but looked at ease to look into the eyes of his son.
Bailey and Collin were very similar in complexion and coloring, but where Bailey is small and light, his father is 6'1 and 190 pounds, well toned and more athletic just as Shane is.
"Mr. McCorristin, you have to get out of the bed now, do you need help getting to the chair?" One of the nurses said as she pulled supplies off of a cart. The teenager just looked at her blankly, knowing fully well that he could barely sit up let alone walk to the chair that was 6 foot away.
"I'll get him again, don't worry." Collin chimed in.
"Thank you Mr. McCorristin, but he needs to start walking soon, and don't hold him long, he needs the rest." The nurse said without emotion to the boy's father as he approached the bed. He chuckled to himself at the comment, knowing that it so simply contradicted itself.
He lifted his son gently off the bed and brought him to the chair where he cradled the young man in his arms as if he was a child again. The nurses rearranged IV tubes and monitor wires to follow them to the chair. The two hospital employees then busied themselves with changing the sheets. Just then his grandmother returned with Shane in toe.
"Ahhhh me goodness, yah lookin' bettir alreada." The elderly woman said. Shane stayed a few paces behind his grandmother staring at his older brother with wariness and fear. He looked extremely uncomfortable, and couldn't bring himself even to say hi to the weakened teenager coiled against his father's chest. He didn't understand most of what was going on, he had only been able to visit shortly for the past few days, so to see his brother awake was relieving, but scary at the same time to see him so weak. He had no clue why his brother had taken the bottle of pills, but that was going to be taken care of later, his parents had reassured both him and his grandparents.
"His color is returnin'. I'm surpresed that he's lettin' yah hold em like that now that he's woke." She said trying to brighten the room with a little humor. Shane made a slight, nervous laugh.
"Ye-yeah, he's held you every night for the past 3." The younger boy stated mater-of-factly.
Bailey picked his head off of his father's shoulder slightly and looked at him questioningly. He tried to croak out something but his voice still didn't want to work. Shane, immediately trying to help in anyway he could rushed over to the bed stand and retrieved a glass of ice water for his brother. Again, Bailey tried to speak.
"Ha-how long have I been here?" He managed slightly above a whisper.
"Since Monday night, babe. It's Friday evening, you've been power napping for 4 days." The man tightened his grip around his son as the information hit him. Bailey started to cry softly in confusion on his fathers shoulder as his brother and grandmother looked on. He cried for putting his family through the torment of the days since Monday, and because he was still alive. He didn't want to face his family and tell them why he had done it, and he didn't want to now lose their trust and love. He felt ashamed, but at the same time comforted by his father's loving hold on him. The older man rocked his son as he cried and tried to calm him as best he could. Bridgett McCorristin walked her other grandson out into the hall, promising him a soda.
"Shhhh, hun, it's alright. Relax." Collin tried to sooth the miserable boy. "Bail, can you listen to me a second? I'm not mad at you, no one is, we're all here for you." He sighed and left a pregnant pause. "I just wish you would have talked to one of us. I know school isn't easy, and being 16 can be traumatic (especially with your mother and grandmother around), but you can come to us with anything. I'm sorry I didn't realize you were so miserable that you would come to this, I just didn't..." He squeezed his son tighter as he began to choke up. "I didn't think that you were depressed.
Bailey you need to tell me what's going on with you, it's obvious that we're in the dark. I'm not going to push anything for now, or ever. I just want you to let me in from now on, ok? Father Raike has been here every morning for you, he wishes deeply to talk to you. God, Bail he read you last rights Tuesday morning." A tear fell down Collin's cheek. "We love you so much, kiddo. I hope you know that, God all mighty you better know that."
"I...do." Bailey said at a whisper before starting to cry again.
Collin cradled his son in his lap for a while until he fell asleep once more. He watched the tormented you sleep so vulnerably in his arms and was again moved to emotions. He considered it his fault for not being as close to his son as he should have been. He also feared he would try it again, as he knew statistically he might.
Shane and Bridgett came back into the room and coerced the older man to let Bailey rest and go home. He lifted the limp body to his chest and carried him back to the hospital bed, laying him down as slowly and gently as a newborn with colic. They left the room and departed for home to finally get some sleep that the entire family had missed that week. They would return in the morning first thing of course, hoping before the ill boy woke.
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"Yeh get that from yer shanty Irish family and yer shanty Irish ways, yah stupid womin." That was a normal Saturday morning wake-up, apparently even for the hospital.
"I parked in the far lot mother because the front one is for emergency parking and handicapped people, you can walk an extra bloody block!!"
"Nah, you won't pay thee extry to perk thee cur!"
"There is no fee you old jit, and if you say I'm shanty Irish again you'll rue the day." It was a very typical Saturday.
"Will you two shut up for once, you'll wake him!!"
"Collin!!" Both women sneered at the man who interrupted them and accused them of hurting Bailey's rest.
"Too late, Dad." Shane said with a smirk as he stared directly into the eyes of his sleepy and dazed brother.
Bailey blankly stared at his family for a few seconds then rolled onto his side, he felt cloudy still, but not as weak. His mother sat on the bed behind him and rub her hand up and down his back. By the untouched tray sitting to the side of him she knew he wasn't interested in the breakfast, and wasn't going to force the probably hour old food on him. She sighed and mussed up his curls and leaned over to kiss her son a good morning.
The rest of the family loitered around the room for a period of time, talking casually and doting over Bailey. After about an hours time Father Raike knocked on the open door, making sure he wasn't disturbing anything. He talked casually and friendly with the family for a bit of time before they left so that Bail could seek council.
"You look much better, McCorristin." The priest said as he pulled up a chair next to the bed. Bailey looked at the man with apprehension and nervousness. He didn't want to be told he was a sinner and a statistic right now; he didn't want to be told anything at that moment.
"How are you feeling?" persisted the priest.
"A little better, Father." Bailey was always polite to father Raike, who acted almost as a mentor to the boy.
"Do you want to talk about what happened Monday? Or do you still need time?"
"Father, I'd rather not. Please, I just want to forget about it."
"Not talking about it is what got you into this trouble in the first place, Bailey."
"Father I can't," Bailey pleaded. His eyes drifted into the floor and his small body curling more tightly on the bed.
"I won't ask anymore today. I'll return tomorrow, and I ask that you come and see me when you're released, you'll be home for a while. I only ask for two reasons, Bailey. You are precious in my eyes as you are in the eyes of the lord, and I feel that this is a sign you are losing your faith. I also think you are carrying a burden that is slowly breaking you; you must relinquish this with God."
"Father I've tried, I've tried for so long." Blurted Bailey, which he immediately regretted.
"What do you ask God's help for, Bailey?" Father said, calmly.
"I can't, I really..."
"Anything you say stays between us and the Lord, son."
"But God doesn't wish to hear it."
The Priest chuckled. "God hears and knows all whether he wants to or not the last time I checked. He's got a pretty good record of forgiveness, also." The whit of the Priest failed to crack the tense frown on the boy's face.
"Father I've already confessed and been told that God does not accept me. I'm not welcome in God's eyes."
"What could you have possibly done that you think God himself would turn his back on you? I've known you since you could reach the altar, you're faith challenges most of the congregation. So now what could you have possibly done to exclude yourself? Above all to try to take your life before God wants you?"
Bailey was near tears and couldn't take it any longer, he couldn't lie to Father Raike, and it would eat away at him. Breathlessly he blurted out the secret that had tried his very soul.
"I'm gay. I've tried so hard not to be, and prayed so long to be what God wanted me to be but it's no use, I just can't."
The Priest was shocked but also somewhat relieved. He had somewhat suspected it over the years, or at least something of the sorts. When Bailey was a child he was very vibrant and playful. Two to three years prior he had noticed him becoming more introverted and sullen. He knew that adolescence wasn't easy for most, and considered it a phase. At least now he knew exactly what was going on in that sad little mind, and he could help.
"So because you're a homosexual, you think God doesn't love you?"
"All signs point to yes."
The priest chuckled. "What signs are these, if I may ask?"
"I hear the word 'fag' on a daily basis. The bible pretty much supports the idea. Society in general would rather see me die then sit next to them in church, and the church itself doesn't want anything to do with homosexuals. What am I supposed to think? I haven't told my family, in fact, the only other person I told was in confessional, and they basically said I wasn't a fit catholic." Tears were flowing freely, now.
The priest blessed the child and waited for him to calm down before he continued. He was angered that a fellow priest would say such a thing to a vulnerable teenager, when they came for guidance.
"Bailey, I need you to listen to me. God loves all of his children and all of their differences, because he made them himself. As for your last confession, I'm sorry you were told that, but ignorance is everywhere, even in the name of God (especially)." He winked at the boy. "When you say the bible states that homosexuality is wrong, I have to question your beliefs in the Bible entirely. The bible is the word of God, but it is also the work of customs that prevailed over the times. If you read closely, which if I know your Grandmother she's read it to you closely, you'll see that it also discriminates against women and against different races. People pick and choose from the scripture what they want to use as an excuse, Bailey. It's sad, but true."
Bailey stopped crying and looked at the Priest with a returning familiarity of guidance and understanding. Father Raike had done exactly what he wanted to, or at least start it. He knew now that he had to build the boys confidence and faith again, because it was slipping, but this was a first step.
"Does that make sense to you at all?"
"Yes father, greatly." The Priest patted the boy's hair and smiled at him.
"I'll leave you to rest with your family now, I'll return tomorrow afternoon after services."
"Thank You, Father." Father Raike squeezed the young mans hand and left the room, saying goodbye to the McCorristin family who waited impatiently out in the hall.
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That's it for now. Any questions or comments can be sent to St_Rory@hotmail.com or I'm also Rory Danial on AIM.
Thanks to all of you who encouraged me to write my last story and now this one, I love you all. Also, thanks to those in the Nifty Chat, you guys are there for me more than you know.