Chapter 9 - JayceNamid

Chapter 9

Jayce

Namid answers my video call on the first ring. The way he sinks into my sofa, his blue eyes glistening as tears trace their way down his pale skin, makes me long to be there with him. I know he told me that he can feel other people's emotions, and I find myself wondering how overwhelming that must be because, in this moment, the intensity of what he's experiencing is palpable even through the phone. I can't help but smile as he thanks me again and again for being there for Ken. It's clear that he's never had anyone else he can turn to, and I'm grateful that he's allowing me the opportunity to show him that I can support him in the same way he's supported me. I let him know what Dr. Robinson said, that it should be a relatively easy break to repair, and show him that I'm already in the waiting room. He sinks back into the pillows on my couch, and I can't help thinking that even though I'm not at home, it's nice having him there.

He keeps me on the phone for more than an hour, but eventually, his voice begins to slur, and he slowly drops off to sleep. I watch him for a moment before hanging up and leaning my head back against the wall to close my eyes as well.

Mr. Johnson is already awake in the recovery room when Dr. Robinson comes out to get me. As she leads me through the sterile halls, she tells me that everything has gone well. He'll need to stay in the hospital for a couple of days, and then he'll have a couple of months of recovery and physical therapy ahead of him, but he should be out of the sling and can even attempt things like driving in six to eight weeks. He's lucked out that it's his left arm he's broken, and Dr. Robinson lets me know that as soon as the pain stops in a week or so, he'll be able to adapt to doing most regular things on his own with one hand quite quickly.

"How's Namid?" Ken's voice is scratchy, and he sounds groggy, but once again, his first concern isn't for himself.

I settle into a chair next to his bed as I take in his IV pumps and the huge pile of straps and bolsters that support his arm.

"He's okay. We talked for about an hour, and he fell asleep on the phone while you were in surgery."

He nods once. "Good."

Mr. Johnson studies my face for a long time. I don't know him well, but it's clear that he's become Namid's father, and he cares about him deeply .

"You and I should talk for a bit before we call and wake him up." His gaze and tone are serious, and I wonder if he's worried that I treat Namid like the rest of the town seems to. I don't want him thinking that. I want him to know that I'm Namid's friend.

"Look, Mr. Johns…"

He cuts me off.

"I think it's time you started calling me Ken, don't you?"

He raises an eyebrow in a way that seems to imply something, but I'm not entirely sure what.

I just nod as he continues.

"Namid is a good man. I'm glad he has you now. He's never really had a friend aside from me, and I hate that for him."

"I hate that for him too."

Ken's face relaxes almost instantly at my words of support.

"He's so kind and caring and funny. I don't understand why he doesn't have friends here or why everyone seems to be so on edge around him. He's done nothing to harm anyone."

Ken's smile is soft, almost hurt. "He's different, you see. People don't like those who are different."

"I know he's different, Ken. I mean, it's obvious he's a little more refined than most people here, and I know he's not very social or anything."

"It's more than that, son." His voice is quiet, and his gaze is intense enough I feel like I might melt under its force. "He's different in a lot of ways, and people can sense that somehow. He's very selective about who he interacts with for a lot of reasons, and that seems to rub people the wrong way too."

I nod. "Because he's…sensitive."

Ken's eyes narrow almost threateningly as I continue.

"He told me…"

I shake my head. It's not really my place to say what Namid does or does not trust me with. "Never mind…but I know he's different."

Shock crosses Ken's face briefly before he schools his features back into a glare. He scrutinizes me as he speaks.

"He told you what?"

How in the world am I supposed to say this? If Namid is somehow crazy and making it up, then I'll be the one who sounds crazy.

"Is it…he said you believe him."

Ken's face softens into something nearing a smile. "Yes, I believe him. We tried to find answers for a while. Doctors and shamans and spiritual healers. I know who he is, but there aren't any answers to be found in books or hospitals. He's just different, and if he told you about himself, then you're only the second person in his entire life he's ever trusted enough to share himself with."

Ken reaches his good arm over the side of the bed toward me, and I slide closer to take his hand in both of mine .

His voice breaks as he continues. "Don't you hurt him."

Ken loves him. He loves him like a father, and it's clear he'd protect him with his life. There is something inside of me that needs Ken to know that I understand.

"He's my friend, Ken. I'll protect him."