Chapter
Forty-Nine: Judas:
My second son,
Judas, was born in the spring. He was so small for his age. I wondered if he was
going to survive. My wife went into labor while I was at work. I was buried in
paperwork when I heard the phone ring. I groaned and rolled my eyes.
“What is it?” I
asked. That call only lasted for a few seconds. I rose to my feet.
“I will be right
there!” I said. I ran out of the office.
“My lord?”
Beelzebub asked as I ran past him.
“Cover the
office for me!” I shouted. I was out the door before he could ask any more
questions. Good thing the hospital was a short distance from my office.
The nurses stood
outside waiting for me.
“How is she?” I
asked. I noticed the grim looks on their faces.
“What is it?
What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It doesn’t look
good,” one of the nurses said.
“How bad is it?”
I asked. The nurses looked down at their hands.
“We don’t know
if either will survive,” another one said. I pushed past them and marched up to
the hospital.
“My lord!”
another one yelled. It didn’t make any sense. She had been fine throughout
winter. Never complained about being sick. I had the best doctors come and look
after her. Everything checked out. What went wrong?
I ran up to the
front desk. The receptionist turned while she was on the phone.
“My lord?” she
asked.
“Where is my
wife?!” I asked. “Take me to her now!” The receptionist put down the phone.
“My lord, you’re
going to need to keep your voice down,” she said in a whisper.
“I don’t care!”
I shouted. “I have to see her. Take me to see my wife! I have to see her now!”
Everyone was probably staring at me, but that didn’t matter to me. My nostrils
flared as I breathed heavily.
“Okay, okay,”
the receptionist said. “I will have one of the nurses take you to see her.” I
breathed out.
“Thank you,” I
said. One of the nurses from outside ran over to my side. I yanked away my arm
from her grasp.
“Get off me,” I
groaned. “Take me to her!” The nurse bowed her head and led me down the hall. I
followed behind with a stony look on my face. I hoped that my wife and child
were okay.
“How is my other
son?” I asked.
“Good, he’s in
the nursey,” the nurse said. “He’s doing fine.”
“He better,” I
said under my breath.
“Excuse me?” she
asked. I snorted and shook my head.
----------
I could hear my
wife screaming from further down the hall. The doctors and nurses rushed past
us. I tried to flag someone down.
“Excuse me!
Excuse me!” I shouted. “Hey! Hey!” I grabbed one doctor by the arm. He turned
and saw me.
“Please tell me
how they are doing,” I said. “How is my wife?” The doctor looked at me.
“We are doing
the best that we can,” he said. His arm slipped from my grasp.
“Wait! Let me
see her, please!” I shouted. The nurse pulled me along.
“Come on, my
lord,” she said in a whisper. We ended up sitting in the hall. She wouldn’t let
me go in. I believe that the nurse had to hold me down at one point.
“Please let them
work, my lord,” she said. “They are doing the best that they can.” I gritted my
teeth. If someone told that one more time…
“Push!” one of
the other nurses shouted. Madonna screamed in her room.
“I think I’m
going to die!” she shouted.
“Stay with us,
my lady!” another nurse shouted. Madonna screamed again. I jumped to my feet and
ran to the door. The nurse practically had to tackle me to the ground.
“Get off of me!”
I shouted.
“No!” she
shouted. “You will be in the way, my lord! Just let them do their work!” I kept
struggling and trying to push her off.
“Let me go!” I
shouted the whole time. That nurse wouldn’t let up. Why couldn’t I just fling
her across the room and run into there. I didn’t know at the time. I just wanted
to see my wife.
My son was born
hours later. At first, he wasn’t breathing. Everyone was rushing around, and
they wouldn’t let me see my family.
“What’s going
on?” I asked. “Why can’t I see my son?” A doctor ran by me, but I couldn’t catch
him in time. He did look over his shoulder and tell me that they were doing the
best they could.
Of course they
were.
By nightfall,
another doctor allowed me to finally see my family. Madonna held her son in her
arms.
“Hey,” I
whispered. “How are you?”
“Tired,” Madonna
said. I walked over to her. One look at our son and I fell in love.
“He’s
beautiful,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said. In that moment, our son looked so perfect.