What Was I Thinking? The Beginning

"I heard", Jake said coming up behind me. "This won't take long. I'll get rid of her."

As I went back out onto the deck, I didn't have a good feeling about this. I was almost certain there was going to be an ugly scene.

The next thing I heard was a series of loud popping sound. I raced back inside toward door. I could see Jake laying face down at the top of the stairs with his eyes half closed.

I ran toward him and then heard another popping sound. It startled me but still I kept reaching for him. I started to freak out when I saw the blood running from his temple.

When I got to him I saw that his eyes had closed. And I saw her running out the gate.

"Oh shit, dude!" I yelled, reaching down to him.

I ran back inside and dialed 911.

"My friend's been shot, I need an ambulance!"

I didn't know what else to do, so I went back out to Jake. If nothing else, I didn't want him to die with face on the cold stone stairs, so I propped him up in my lap.

"Alright man, you're going to be alright. The ambulance will be here soon." I said as I held on to him.

"Oh my God, please don't let him die", was all I kept thinking.

He was still breathing so I knew he wasn't gone yet. But I was still terrified that he might be soon.

"Oh man!" I said. "Come on dude, wake up. You're gonna be alright. Come on, please!"

"Oh shit, what happened?" He said, groggily rolling his head in my lap.

"Good! Alright!" I said nervously, "Just be still, everything's alright."

"Fuck! That crazy bitch shot me didn't she?" He asked. "How did you get here? You shouldn't be here."

"I've always been here." I told him, not really understanding what he was asking, but at least I could keep him talking.

His eyes started to droop again. I was scared as hell.

"Hey, hey, focus on me okay? I've called the ambulance, they'll be here soon." I told him.

"Can you be still please? This pain is stellar." He said.

Apparently, I was shaking wildly. I forced myself to be still as best I could.

"Yeah, anything, just don't..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

"I'm not going anywhere." He said.

I held him in my lap quietly. Then I noticed the blood stains on his shirt. Damn, he'd been hit in a couple of other place besides the one that grazed his head.

"Hey, are you still with me?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay." He assured me.

I could hear the sirens getting closer. My eyes blurred with water again and again as I tried to blink it away. I held onto my friend. I never wanted anything more in my life than for him to be alright.

"Dude, you're moving again." Jake choked on the words.

"I'm sorry man." I told him, looking down at him. "I won't do it again. I swear!"

The sirens, the sounds all crashing in on me. Paramedics, police, running, everybody talking all at once. Sirens still wailing, lights flashing. My senses were reeling, I felt sick. It was all just too much.

As they took him away from me I told him once again that he'd be alright.

"Yeah, I know man. Its okay."

Then I was sitting in a cold brightly lit hospital hallway. I had blood all over me. I was very cold. And I didn't even remember driving here.

There were so many questions from the police. I hadn't been much help to them I'm afraid.

"Where the hell is that doctor? How long have I been here? Is Jake alright?" All these questions swirling around in my head.

I put my head down in my hands, mostly because I was very tired but still all wound up. And also because I didn't want anyone to see my tears of frustration and anger.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I must have jumped about a mile out of my seat.

"Craig, what happened? Are you alright?"

It was Jorge. I grabbed him and held on tight. I was never so glad to see anyone as I was to see him at that moment.

"I stopped at your house and there were police everywhere. They told me that you were here." He said, holding me. "Are you alright?"

I could only nod because the tears were coming too fast now for me to be able to speak. I put my head on his shoulder.

"Okay, okay. Its alright. Here, let's sit down." He said.

When I was able to speak, I told him the whole fucked up story.

From the corner of my eye I saw the doctor approaching. His body language told me that he didn't have good news.

Epilogue:

"So I understand that you've been having that dream again?" Dr. Bennett said.

"Yeah."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No, not really." I said with tears welling up in my eyes as I turned away from him.

How many times could I tell him about that fucking dream? How many more times would I have it?

How many times would he have to remind me that Jake died in my arms. That he was probably dead not long after I picked him up. He couldn't have survived more than a few minutes with a wound like that.

"But I heard him speak." I insisted. "I know I heard him."

"That's not very like Craig. The paramedics couldn't have done any good anyway. Jake was shot through the heart and no amount of curbside assistance could have saved him." Dr. Bennett had told me.

Those words kept echoing in my head.

"You know its perfectly natural that you are experiencing... blah, blah, blah..." Dr. Bennett droned on.

I think that this'll be my last visit with Dr. Repetitive Rhetoric.

Jorge seems to be the only source of comfort in my life these days. Especially at Jake's funeral and then during the trial, where I had to testify.

All I had wanted to do was retreat into my own little world. In some respects, I felt responsible for Jake's demise. I know it wasn't rational, but its difficult to come to terms with having a friend die right before your eyes, in your arms.

It was Jorge who had pushed, cajoled, patronized, criticized and whatever else it took to guide me through that dark period. He remained steadfast and undaunted even when I was a jackass to him. The man has a truly altruistic soul.

He even suggested that perhaps I should write it all down, you know, as a way of exorcizing my demons. I'll probably do just that. I've already got a title, "A Requiem For Jake". No, that sounds too sad. I'll come up with something.