September 12th 2012, 7:00 am, Hickory Grove, Wisconsin, Mercy Hospital Mental Health Floor
The scratchy sheets reminded him that he wasn't home. As the seven a.m. alarm began chiming in every private room and public area within the locked down ward on the sixth floor of Mercy Hospital, the events of the past thirty-six hours came rushing back at Jed and he closed his eyes tightly in order to will himself back to "life as it was." But, as the bothersome alarm struck seven chimes, he knew that the gift of time-travel had eluded him and he opened his eyes once more to face the harsh reality of the new world that he had created for himself.
Glancing both to his right and his left, Jed noticed the bandages still taped to his upper arms, just below the shoulders.
He couldn't believe what he had done.
The Leupold hunting knife had plowed three identical furrows on the inner, fleshy portions of each arm; six reminders of this past week's events that would remain with him for the rest of his life.
, thought Jed wryly as he threw his feet over the side of the twin-sized hospital bed and reached out for his shirt, gingerly wincing from the pain. Shirt in hand, he sat on the edge of his bed for several, long moments.
Jed's aching guilt and regret returned to the forefront of his mind after having been briefly banished by drug-induced sleep.
He remembered Naomi relating to him her experience as he sat silently across from her in his room, just before she had left last night. She had found him the morning after Sage's death, curled up on the backyard swing, unconscious through fatigue and loss of blood. Naomi told Jed that the only thought which had crossed her mind, after frantically searching the house and spying him lying bloodied and motionless just yards away from the kitchen window, was that she was now a widow and her children were fatherless. She had cried out Jed's name, over and over again, until he finally stirred and opened his eyes. Then, her desperate cries had turned to angry shouts. Jed couldn't remember the content of her tirade and he was glad. Dragging him into the house, she had called 911 in spite of his groggy protests and with that, "the end of Jed's world as he knew it," had commenced.
Sitting in the empty room, his mind naturally gravitated to the worst possible scenario: he would lose his church, his career and possibly even his marriage and children.
Jed slowly and painfully slipped the hospital issue shirt over his bandaged shoulders and reached out to the chair opposite his bed for the matching pants and robe. The film in his mind rewinded from the dismal future to the hazy events of yesterday's past.
Jed's first day at the psychiatric unit had been a blur of medical forms, intake interviews and inward, burning shame. He numbly answered each question directed at him in short, monotone sentences, while Naomi at his side provided the real and necessary information the doctors needed. There was a small group meeting at which he had been present, but silent, as he stared at the frayed carpet between his feet. There was the increased medication that sedated his mind and troubled his brief naps with twisted dreams. Jed's foggy mind thought he also remembered a visit from one of the church elders, Steve, who assured him that everything was being taken care of and that all he needed to do was rest.
In the medicated haze of that day, Naomi came and went - always with a look of concern upon her face - always with the reassurance that Jed didn't need to worry about anything. She was fine. The kids were fine. The church was fine. His wounds were fine. Everything was going to be just fine.
Now, as the window in his room displayed the pitter-patter of rain drops falling from the dreary sky, Jed knew that things were far from "fine" in his life. In fact, he was certain that nothing would ever be fine for him again.
Even now, in spite of the sedating medication, Jed wasn't fine. It was all that he could do to keep himself from dropping to his knees immediately and confessing the multitude of sins that he was sure his account had accrued over the past two days. He had done so repeatedly since arriving at the hospital. Presently, however, he simply didn't have the strength to deal it. At times, such confession brought him peace and a sense of closeness with God. But, when he felt as he did right now, such scrupulosity just drove him into deeper levels of despair. He couldn't remember all of his sins. He couldn't work up the remorse that he felt was necessary for his sins to be truly forgiven. He just couldn't purge his conscience from the accusations that assaulted him, constantly.
, thought Jed?
Twenty minutes later after brushing his hair and teeth to what he considered to be an acceptable degree, Jed trudged out of his room, walked down the hallway to his right, and entered the mental health ward's small public kitchen. He retrieved a tray of lukewarm eggs and found his way to the most secluded table he could find.
A few other occupants filled the remaining tables; one being a middle-aged, white man possessing an epic display of bed-head, a scruffy salt and pepper beard, and a standard-issue hospital robe. He stared continually in Jed's direction while Jed did his best to ignore him.
It was in that state, thirty minutes later, that Naomi had found him staring dully at his plate of untouched food. The remaining occupants of the kitchen had all cleared out, save for Mr. Bed-head who seemed to have given up all interest in Jed in favor of studying his hash browns.
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"Good morning Jed," Naomi said quietly as she approached his table.
"Don't worry, I won't ask you how you're holding up right now."
Jed just looked up at her and smiled, weakly. "After what I've put you through this week, Babe, you can ask me or tell me anything you want."
Tears began to well up in his eyes as Naomi took the seat opposite his.
"Naomi ..." he started, "I am sorry. I don't know why ..."
She reached across the table and took Jed's hand.
"Shhh, Jed please, I know," she whispered. "Honey, I know it's not the real you. I know the real Jedidiah Matthews and I love him with all of my heart." She squeezed his hand firmly. "We're going to win, Jed. We're going to beat this thing and I'm going to be right by your side the whole way."
Now Jed's tears began to flow, "But Naomi, the kids, my career, our home, other people's ..."
Naomi interrupted gently, "It's all going to work out, Jed. The kids just know that daddy's away for a couple of days. The church board is behind you and praying for you, fervently. No one else at the church knows, nor do they need to. As far as anyone else is concerned, we're just on a family vacation. All that matters right now is getting you better, Jed.
Naomi looked down at the table before speaking again.
"Jed, I'm so sorry," tears now welling up in her eyes, "for all of the anger, the misunderstanding, the self-pity ..."
Now, it was Jed's turn to interrupt.
"Hey ..." he said as he reached out to take hold of her other hand. "Naomi, this is not your fault! I own up to what I did. I may not understand it all, but it was my own doing. It was a lame, selfish, immature cry for help and I promise that I will never put you through this again."
Naomi just looked into Jed's moist eyes and nodded. They sat like that, holding hands and enjoying the silence for the better part of a minute.
"So, where do we go from here?" they both said, simultaneously and laughed.
"I think the doctors want to keep you in for the next twenty four hours, pending your good behavior," answered Naomi as she smiled and dried her tears with a tissue. "They want to see how you're reacting to the new medication before they ..."
"Naomi, don't let them turn me into a zombie," interrupted Jed.
"They're not, Jed" assured Naomi. "It's just a different direction than they've tried before."
"I just want to trust in God for this thing," began Jed.
"Honey, we've worked through this before. I also want you free from medication. But, I also want to be free from my contact lenses. My aunt wants to be free from her insulin and my father wants to be free from his high blood pressure medication. We're all broken, Jed, and we all believe that God can mend us. It's just a matter of when and how."
Naomi took a deep breath and continued.
"Please Jed, let's just give this a try."
"Babe, I will do whatever you ask of me," said Jed, looking into his wife's eyes. "I just want you to have a husband that makes you smile; and I prefer that husband to be me."
Naomi stood from her chair, walked around the table and - to the mutual surprise of both Jed and the now attentive Mr. Bed-head - sat down on Jed's lap, lifting her hand to his face.
"You just try and get rid of me," she said, before kissing him softly.
Jed was pleased to discover that, for the moment at least, he felt fine.
The couple sat in each other's arms for one brief moment before they suddenly seemed to remember their audience of one. Naomi extricated herself from Jed's lap, then took his hand in order to help him to his feet.
"I'll walk you to the door, hon" said Jed.
Hand in hand, they skirted the empty tables and dislocated chairs; passing by Mr. Bed-head on their left as Naomi gave him a small smile and nod. Just as they were about to exit the kitchen and turn to their left, heading back toward the psychiatric ward's main entrance, Jed felt his wife pulled, violently, from his grasp. He spun around - first in confusion, then in horror - as he beheld his wild-haired breakfast companion holding Naomi from behind with his arm around her neck and brandishing a butter knife.
"Pretty lady," said the man in syllables that sounded as if his mouth was full of marbles.
As the wild-eyed patient slowly began to drag Naomi back into the dining area Jed reacted without thinking. He reached out one, desperate hand toward the retreating pair; suddenly feeling a strange, cool sensation fill his chest. As he called out Naomi's name, the sensation raced down his left arm and leapt from his extended hand in the form of a brief, crimson burst of lightning. The blinding bolt lanced into the exposed shoulder of the disheveled man, knocking him backwards onto the table directly behind him. His grip involuntarily released Naomi as he tumbled, head-over-heels, backwards and landed in a noisy heap onto the linoleum floor.
Jed pulled Naomi to himself as the pounding of feet could be heard running down the hallway outside. Two staff members pushed themselves past the embracing couple, the first of the two rushing to Mr. Bed-head's side.
"What happened here!" called out the first staffer, a twenty-something African-American man whose muscles bulged inside his blue scrubs as he reached down to lift the crumpled form off the floor.
"He tazed me!" warbled the man, wildly, as he got to his feet and shook his finger at Jed. "He shocked me ... he's packing something!"
The second female orderly looked askance at Jed while he desperately tried to think of some way out of this bizarre situation.
he thought, his body trembling involuntarily.
Naomi intervened quickly, "Jed's not carrying anything! This man just grabbed me from behind and held a knife to my throat!"
"Gary, did you do that?" asked the black man, in a gruff voice that indicated it wasn't the first time he had reprimanded "Gary" for such behavior.
Gary just stood with his mouth agape, not answering.
"All the same, sir, if you'd lift up your hands."
Jed raised his hands and allowed the middle-aged, bleach blonde woman to check him for any concealed weapons. In his hospital gown, there weren't many places to search.
"He's clean," said the woman.
"Gary, you're never gonna get outta here if you keep this stuff up!" scolded the big man as he gripped the protesting patient's arm, firmly, and herded him down the hallway toward the isolation room.
"Are you alright, ma'am?" asked the female orderly. "I wish I could tell you that this hasn't happened before. Gary's harmless, but he can scare the bejeebers out of you if you've never met him."
"I'm ok, thank you" said Naomi, shakily. "But, I would really like to leave now."
"Sure, ma'am, just follow me.
Jed followed Naomi in numb silence, incredulously staring at his hands.
Arriving at the psychiatric ward's main entrance, Jed felt Naomi kiss him on the cheek and heard her say something incomprehensible before the large metal door clanged shut and he felt himself being led, gently, by the arm back to his own room.
