Remembering Sunday
Remembering Sunday
Jack woke with a start, someone was banging furiously at his apartment door. “Ugh, Alex forgot the key again!” he thought angrily to himself. Alex tended to forget the key or to get so drunk, lose it. It was two in the morning, so Alex was probably returning from the nightclub a couple of blocks away. Jack forced himself out of bed, he cursed Alex for ruining the perfect dream he was having. Jack dreamt he was in a world famous punk band, playing to thousands of teenagers every night, girls throwing bras up on stage and Jack hooking them to his mic stand, of course Jack wasn’t the lead singer, just back up, but he was one badass guitarist.
“God damn it Alex! Why can’t you remember your key! It’s not that hard!” Jack unlocked the door and swung it open angrily but standing at the door wasn’t Alex, standing there was two well-built Latino policemen.
“Mr. Barakat?” they asked with blank expressions, showing no emotion at all despite what they were about to tell him. Jack nodded, worried and confused. “We’re afraid your partner, Alex, has been in a car accident.” Jack’s body went completely numb, his legs gave way and he fell to the floor, hunched over and sobbed into his dark green carpet. The police officers continued, not knowing that Jack would not hear one word they would say. “The driver of the car was four times over the blood-alcohol level and passed away at the scene. Alex, though lucky to survive, is in severe condition in Saint Agnes hospital. There is a lot of swelling to the brain and there could be some internal bleeding, we have yet to be informed. If you would like we will drive to the hospital to be with Alex.”
Jack stayed sobbing against the now moist carpet, he lay there for what felt like an eternity. Until one of the policemen hoisted him up. Their previous words eventually set in and Jack accepted their offer to drive him to the hospital. He needed to be with Alex, Alex was his everything. If Alex died, so would Jack. Jack hadn’t noticed he was only wearing a pair of grey Calvin Klein boxers as he walked out of his apartment.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you need to get some pants on at least, if you go out like that, it’s bordering on public indecency and we’d rather not arrested you at a time like this.” one of the men said as he pushed Jack back in through the door frame. Jack didn’t want to get dressed; Alex usually laid out his clothes for him. But unfortunately if he didn’t get dressed soon he may never see the love of his life again. He raced into his bedroom, though he couldn’t feel his legs and threw on a pair of dark grey skinny jeans along with his black Atticus shirt. He slipped on his Vans, grabbed some money off the nightstand and hurried back out to the waiting policemen.
Ten minutes passed and they arrived at the hospital, Jack was out of the car and running to the front entrance before the car had properly stopped. He dodged people in wheelchairs and doctors as he made his way to the front desk.
“Umm, excuse me?” he mumbled to the nurse as the reception, panting as his did so. “I’m Jack Barakat, I’m here to about Alex Gaskarth, I was told about a car accident, please tell me they got the wrong Alex and my Alex is still dancing and drinking in some strip club for all I care, just please God tell they‘re wrong.” Before the nurse could reply Jack heard someone call his name, he recognised the English accent of Peter Gaskarth straight away, he knew then that they had the right Alex.
“Jack! Oh God, Jack! We can’t go through this again, we can’t lose another child. We can’t lose Alex, like we lost Daniel.” sobbed Peter as his wife, Isobel, clung out his shoulder; Peter was referring to his son Daniel, who had died when Alex was nine. Nobody outside their family really knew how he died, some suspected suicide, other’s said it was an accidental over-dose and other’s say it’s was a heart attack. Jack never asked Alex what really happened, it wasn’t any of Jack’s business. Now as Peter and Isobel hung on to each other, tears streaming rapidly down their faces, Jack understood the seriousness of the situation. Alex might died, Jack might lose the only person he had ever loved.
Jack, Peter and Isobel stayed in the hospital waiting room for six hours before a doctor came out to them. Jack tried to search for clues as to what he was about to say in his facial expression but the doctor stuck to a poker face.
“Mr and Mrs. Gaskarth, we have managed to improve Alex’s condition, though comatose and we can’t tell how long for but there is a 75% chance of survival.” At that moment the two parents hugged each other tightly as Jack jumped around the room happily, even though they couldn‘t guarantee anything 75% was better than nothing. Jack continued jumping wildly for a further thirty seconds more before the doctor grabbed him and asked him to stop.
“There is a bit more to Alex’s condition though, if Alex does wake up, which we are optimistic will happen, there is a huge chance of temporary or even permanent amnesia, possibly losing eight years of memories.” “Eight years?” Jack thought to himself, eight years ago Alex was 15 and Jack was 14, being that they were born six months in the difference. Eight years ago Alex and Jack were just friends, they’d only known each for a few months, they’d sit around talking about Blink 182 for hours on end. But they weren’t even half as close as they are now, obviously seeing as now they were in a relationship and Jack was planning to propose.
“So what then, will Alex wake up thinking its 2002?” Jack asked with a pain set in his deep brown eyes.
“Possibly, maybe only a year, maybe 2 months, who knows maybe Alex will remember everything.” replied the doctor, trying to sound hopeful just for Jack. If Alex lost eight years that would be the end of them. Jack couldn’t go through another eight years trying to regain what he and Alex have. It would be impossible, as much as Jack loved Alex, it would be impossible to do that.
“But there is something you can do, Mr and Mrs. Gaskarth and you Jack. We don’t know how long Alex will be comatose for but you can talk to Alex, tell stories, read books, and sing. Anything you can do to remind Alex of the last eight years could be really beneficial.” With that the kind doctor walked back to A&E.
Peter, Isobel and Jack stared at each other before a smile broke out on to Jack’s face, the first smile in the last twelve hours. Jack ran out onto the streets of Baltimore and hailed a cab. After the cab arrived at his apartment block he asked the driver to wait for him as he raced up three flights of stairs, luckily Jack has long legs so he took the steps two at a time, sometimes three. He ran around the apartment like a headless chicken grabbing books, his stereo and CD’s, movies; Home Alone of course, Jack’s favourite, and Alex’s song book.
Arriving back in the hospital car park Jack threw the cab driver two twenty dollar bills and speeded back into the reception. Alex’s parents were standing there looking confused as the boy appeared with his hands full of items.
“Let’s get him remembering!” Jack stated before walking casually into the A&E ward. It took a while for the nurses to allow Jack permission to visit his partner; they first needed to check with Alex’s parents to ensure that this strange lanky raven haired boy was sane and not going to harm Alex. He walked into Alex’s room and tears streamed down his face as he saw his partner hooked up to machines with various drips and wires along the place. But he couldn’t let himself get distracted from what he had set out to do. He plugged the stereo into the only socket left free and turned on Blink 182’s self titled album, it was released in 2003 so maybe it would help Alex’s memory. As that played in the background, Jack began to talk about tripped the two had taken, drunken tales and the time they actually saw Blink in concert, when Jack caught Mark’s guitar pick. It was the second happiness night of his life, only to the night him and Alex became a couple. On that night they sat and watched Home Alone together for the 574th time, literally, and Alex turned to Jack and said “Jack, I know this is going to sound weird but I want us to be more than friends, I know we are only eighteen but I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you.” Jack didn’t respond he just kissed Alex, signalling a yes.
He sat there telling Alex stories for four hours before Peter walked in. Jack knew he should leave Peter alone with his child. He was hungry anyway. Isobel walked past him as he left the ward she stopped and hugged the boy.
“Thank you Jack, Peter and I really appreciate your help in this situation.” Jack nodded and kissed the English woman on her forehead before strolling down the hall towards the cafeteria.
It was another two hours before he saw Alex again, the longest two hours of his life. He decided his time with Alex this time around would be spent singing lyrics to songs Alex had written. Jack’s voice wasn’t even nearly as beautiful as Alex’s but he could still try.
“Make it a sweet, sweet goodbye,
It could be for the last time and it’s not right,
‘Don’t let yourself get in over your head’ he said,
‘Alone and far from home I’ll find you’”
Jack sand Lullabies to Alex, as a way of saying Goodbye in case something did happen and Alex didn’t make it. Alex had written Lullabies in memory of Daniel.
“Sing me to sleep,
I’ll see you in my dreams,
Waiting to say, ‘I miss you, I’m so sorry’”
Tears trickled down the boys face as his sing that last line to his partner. Alex’s hand moved as Jack‘s voice faded, Alex was responding. Jack continued to sing, hoping it was the familiarity of the songs that had this happening. He started singing on of his all time favourites Alex had written; Remembering Sunday,
“He woke up from dreaming and put on his shoes,
Started making his way past two in the morning,
He hasn’t been sober for days,
Leaning now into the breeze, remembering Sunday,
He falls to his knees, they had breakfast together,
But two eggs don’t last like the feeling of what he needs.”
Jack noticed that as he sang the verse Alex’s hand moved more and more and suddenly the older of the two’s eyes flickered opened. Alex muttered a barely audible “Jack” drifting back to unconsciousness. Jack called for Alex’s parents and the doctor, when they arrived he explain exactly what had just happened.
“That’s good, drifting in and out of consciousness is better than full comatose, this gives a higher chance of waking up. But even though Alex said your name Jack, there is still a huge possibility of amnesia. But continue to do what ever it is you’re doing, it seems to be really helping.”
Jack had one last trick up his sleeve to help Alex’s memory. The greatest film in the entire world according to Jack, Home Alone. Giggling as his placed the disc into his portable DVD player, Jack thought of all the times he made Alex sit through this movie. Alex must have be so sick of it, but never made a complaint, not once.
Jack talked over the movie the whole way through explaining the different scenes to Alex and proudly stating facts about the actors and the movie. Peter Gaskarth was in the doorway, watching with tear stained eyes he couldn’t help but laugh at Jack‘s enthusiasm towards the movie the boy had seen at least 2000 times, he stood there hoping Alex would remember this boy after waking up, if Alex was to ever wake up.
“God damn it Alex! Why can’t you remember your key! It’s not that hard!” Jack unlocked the door and swung it open angrily but standing at the door wasn’t Alex, standing there was two well-built Latino policemen.
“Mr. Barakat?” they asked with blank expressions, showing no emotion at all despite what they were about to tell him. Jack nodded, worried and confused. “We’re afraid your partner, Alex, has been in a car accident.” Jack’s body went completely numb, his legs gave way and he fell to the floor, hunched over and sobbed into his dark green carpet. The police officers continued, not knowing that Jack would not hear one word they would say. “The driver of the car was four times over the blood-alcohol level and passed away at the scene. Alex, though lucky to survive, is in severe condition in Saint Agnes hospital. There is a lot of swelling to the brain and there could be some internal bleeding, we have yet to be informed. If you would like we will drive to the hospital to be with Alex.”
Jack stayed sobbing against the now moist carpet, he lay there for what felt like an eternity. Until one of the policemen hoisted him up. Their previous words eventually set in and Jack accepted their offer to drive him to the hospital. He needed to be with Alex, Alex was his everything. If Alex died, so would Jack. Jack hadn’t noticed he was only wearing a pair of grey Calvin Klein boxers as he walked out of his apartment.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you need to get some pants on at least, if you go out like that, it’s bordering on public indecency and we’d rather not arrested you at a time like this.” one of the men said as he pushed Jack back in through the door frame. Jack didn’t want to get dressed; Alex usually laid out his clothes for him. But unfortunately if he didn’t get dressed soon he may never see the love of his life again. He raced into his bedroom, though he couldn’t feel his legs and threw on a pair of dark grey skinny jeans along with his black Atticus shirt. He slipped on his Vans, grabbed some money off the nightstand and hurried back out to the waiting policemen.
Ten minutes passed and they arrived at the hospital, Jack was out of the car and running to the front entrance before the car had properly stopped. He dodged people in wheelchairs and doctors as he made his way to the front desk.
“Umm, excuse me?” he mumbled to the nurse as the reception, panting as his did so. “I’m Jack Barakat, I’m here to about Alex Gaskarth, I was told about a car accident, please tell me they got the wrong Alex and my Alex is still dancing and drinking in some strip club for all I care, just please God tell they‘re wrong.” Before the nurse could reply Jack heard someone call his name, he recognised the English accent of Peter Gaskarth straight away, he knew then that they had the right Alex.
“Jack! Oh God, Jack! We can’t go through this again, we can’t lose another child. We can’t lose Alex, like we lost Daniel.” sobbed Peter as his wife, Isobel, clung out his shoulder; Peter was referring to his son Daniel, who had died when Alex was nine. Nobody outside their family really knew how he died, some suspected suicide, other’s said it was an accidental over-dose and other’s say it’s was a heart attack. Jack never asked Alex what really happened, it wasn’t any of Jack’s business. Now as Peter and Isobel hung on to each other, tears streaming rapidly down their faces, Jack understood the seriousness of the situation. Alex might died, Jack might lose the only person he had ever loved.
Jack, Peter and Isobel stayed in the hospital waiting room for six hours before a doctor came out to them. Jack tried to search for clues as to what he was about to say in his facial expression but the doctor stuck to a poker face.
“Mr and Mrs. Gaskarth, we have managed to improve Alex’s condition, though comatose and we can’t tell how long for but there is a 75% chance of survival.” At that moment the two parents hugged each other tightly as Jack jumped around the room happily, even though they couldn‘t guarantee anything 75% was better than nothing. Jack continued jumping wildly for a further thirty seconds more before the doctor grabbed him and asked him to stop.
“There is a bit more to Alex’s condition though, if Alex does wake up, which we are optimistic will happen, there is a huge chance of temporary or even permanent amnesia, possibly losing eight years of memories.” “Eight years?” Jack thought to himself, eight years ago Alex was 15 and Jack was 14, being that they were born six months in the difference. Eight years ago Alex and Jack were just friends, they’d only known each for a few months, they’d sit around talking about Blink 182 for hours on end. But they weren’t even half as close as they are now, obviously seeing as now they were in a relationship and Jack was planning to propose.
“So what then, will Alex wake up thinking its 2002?” Jack asked with a pain set in his deep brown eyes.
“Possibly, maybe only a year, maybe 2 months, who knows maybe Alex will remember everything.” replied the doctor, trying to sound hopeful just for Jack. If Alex lost eight years that would be the end of them. Jack couldn’t go through another eight years trying to regain what he and Alex have. It would be impossible, as much as Jack loved Alex, it would be impossible to do that.
“But there is something you can do, Mr and Mrs. Gaskarth and you Jack. We don’t know how long Alex will be comatose for but you can talk to Alex, tell stories, read books, and sing. Anything you can do to remind Alex of the last eight years could be really beneficial.” With that the kind doctor walked back to A&E.
Peter, Isobel and Jack stared at each other before a smile broke out on to Jack’s face, the first smile in the last twelve hours. Jack ran out onto the streets of Baltimore and hailed a cab. After the cab arrived at his apartment block he asked the driver to wait for him as he raced up three flights of stairs, luckily Jack has long legs so he took the steps two at a time, sometimes three. He ran around the apartment like a headless chicken grabbing books, his stereo and CD’s, movies; Home Alone of course, Jack’s favourite, and Alex’s song book.
Arriving back in the hospital car park Jack threw the cab driver two twenty dollar bills and speeded back into the reception. Alex’s parents were standing there looking confused as the boy appeared with his hands full of items.
“Let’s get him remembering!” Jack stated before walking casually into the A&E ward. It took a while for the nurses to allow Jack permission to visit his partner; they first needed to check with Alex’s parents to ensure that this strange lanky raven haired boy was sane and not going to harm Alex. He walked into Alex’s room and tears streamed down his face as he saw his partner hooked up to machines with various drips and wires along the place. But he couldn’t let himself get distracted from what he had set out to do. He plugged the stereo into the only socket left free and turned on Blink 182’s self titled album, it was released in 2003 so maybe it would help Alex’s memory. As that played in the background, Jack began to talk about tripped the two had taken, drunken tales and the time they actually saw Blink in concert, when Jack caught Mark’s guitar pick. It was the second happiness night of his life, only to the night him and Alex became a couple. On that night they sat and watched Home Alone together for the 574th time, literally, and Alex turned to Jack and said “Jack, I know this is going to sound weird but I want us to be more than friends, I know we are only eighteen but I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you.” Jack didn’t respond he just kissed Alex, signalling a yes.
He sat there telling Alex stories for four hours before Peter walked in. Jack knew he should leave Peter alone with his child. He was hungry anyway. Isobel walked past him as he left the ward she stopped and hugged the boy.
“Thank you Jack, Peter and I really appreciate your help in this situation.” Jack nodded and kissed the English woman on her forehead before strolling down the hall towards the cafeteria.
It was another two hours before he saw Alex again, the longest two hours of his life. He decided his time with Alex this time around would be spent singing lyrics to songs Alex had written. Jack’s voice wasn’t even nearly as beautiful as Alex’s but he could still try.
“Make it a sweet, sweet goodbye,
It could be for the last time and it’s not right,
‘Don’t let yourself get in over your head’ he said,
‘Alone and far from home I’ll find you’”
Jack sand Lullabies to Alex, as a way of saying Goodbye in case something did happen and Alex didn’t make it. Alex had written Lullabies in memory of Daniel.
“Sing me to sleep,
I’ll see you in my dreams,
Waiting to say, ‘I miss you, I’m so sorry’”
Tears trickled down the boys face as his sing that last line to his partner. Alex’s hand moved as Jack‘s voice faded, Alex was responding. Jack continued to sing, hoping it was the familiarity of the songs that had this happening. He started singing on of his all time favourites Alex had written; Remembering Sunday,
“He woke up from dreaming and put on his shoes,
Started making his way past two in the morning,
He hasn’t been sober for days,
Leaning now into the breeze, remembering Sunday,
He falls to his knees, they had breakfast together,
But two eggs don’t last like the feeling of what he needs.”
Jack noticed that as he sang the verse Alex’s hand moved more and more and suddenly the older of the two’s eyes flickered opened. Alex muttered a barely audible “Jack” drifting back to unconsciousness. Jack called for Alex’s parents and the doctor, when they arrived he explain exactly what had just happened.
“That’s good, drifting in and out of consciousness is better than full comatose, this gives a higher chance of waking up. But even though Alex said your name Jack, there is still a huge possibility of amnesia. But continue to do what ever it is you’re doing, it seems to be really helping.”
Jack had one last trick up his sleeve to help Alex’s memory. The greatest film in the entire world according to Jack, Home Alone. Giggling as his placed the disc into his portable DVD player, Jack thought of all the times he made Alex sit through this movie. Alex must have be so sick of it, but never made a complaint, not once.
Jack talked over the movie the whole way through explaining the different scenes to Alex and proudly stating facts about the actors and the movie. Peter Gaskarth was in the doorway, watching with tear stained eyes he couldn’t help but laugh at Jack‘s enthusiasm towards the movie the boy had seen at least 2000 times, he stood there hoping Alex would remember this boy after waking up, if Alex was to ever wake up.
7/26/13