A Marine Called Jason
(Revised)
by: Peter

(© 2007-2015 by the Author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 53
Back to The Real World 

I was awake and somebody was smacking my face and I turned my head away. I felt a fullness in my groin and a strange ache in my ass; it was like I wanted to cum and couldn’t.

“He’s awake!” someone said excitedly.

I tried to open my eyes but my eyelids felt like they were weighted down.  I felt tired and I drifted off again.  Images of a handsome, well-built, man faded in and out of my vision; then he was a boy….a beautiful, muscular teenage boy and he was naked and he had a beautiful, huge hardon and he was trying to come to me…. to finish it… "to finish it," he said. He looked so sad that he couldn’t reach me.  

A voice from somewhere far off:  “See if you can get Dr. Bernake. He needs to be here.” 

Another figure started to come toward me out of the fog, larger, more muscular; the man, who had been the boy.  What happened to the boy? 

“Don’t leave me! Stay with me, dammit!  Don't you dare leave me!”  

Then another voice from a different distance.   

“Don’t leave me… I can’t reach you. Dad, please, don’t leave me…..”   

And the beautiful, naked teenage boy, reaching out for me. 

Another more muscular arm reached out to me but I couldn’t move to take it.   

“Jason!”  I heard a voice cry out.  It sounded oddly like my own.  

“Are you going to stay with me?” a deep voice asked.  I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t. There were voices coming from everywhere. I didn’t want to be wherever I was waking up. I wanted to be where I’d been, and I didn’t answer him, hoping he would go away and let me go back.  

“It  was you, Jase; it  was you fucking me.” 

The big, ham-like hand attached to the muscular arm kept patting my face and the voice was saying, “Stay with me, don’t go back to sleep.” 

The handsome, naked boy was fading into the fog so I could barely see him now.   

“No!  Wait!  Jase, don’t go! Please don’t go!”  I cried out.  “Jason!  No, send him back! I can’t lose him! Come back!  Don’t go!  God, I can’t lose both of you!” 

The boy looked over his shoulder at me and held out his hand to the naked, muscular man, as if I wasn’t there.  The man looked at me sadly and dropped his arm then turned and walked toward the boy. He took his hand and they slowly walked away together, then they vanished. I reached out for them, but it was an illusion, for my arm had not moved. I felt sobs welling up inside me.

“Where the hell am I?” I asked, suddenly snapping out of the fog of fantasy, now angry that I had been jerked away from the place I wanted to be. “Stop smacking me dammit! Why the hell are you smacking me?”  I growled.  I tried to bring my hand up to deflect the offending hand but I couldn’t raise my arm and I couldn’t open my eyes. “I can’t open my eyes. Why can’t I open my eyes?” My voice sounded strange and unfamiliar, when it had sounded familiar a moment ago, and it seemed I had to put forth some great effort to get the words out.

“You can open your eyes,” the male voice said.

I tried again, and with some effort, they came open, but they wouldn’t focus. I moved my eyes from side to side, to make sure they worked, and as I brought things into focus, I determined that I was in a hospital, but I had no idea why.  I focused on the man leaning over me; he was youngish, pretty good looking, with a thick, muscular neck. I figured he was a male nurse, he looked too young to be a doctor.

“I won’t smack you any more if you promise to stay with me,” he said with a killer smile.

 “Dr. Bernake is on his way.”  The voice seemed to come from somewhere out of the past and I didn’t understand that.

“Who is Dr. Bernake? What am I doing in a hospital? Is this a military hospital?” I asked. Everyone sounded so confused. “What happened to me? Why am I here?” I was feeling weak and groggy, fading in and out.

“Dr. Bernake will answer all of your questions as soon as we know you’re going to stay with us,” he said.

“Someone call his brother.”  That voice from the past again.

There seemed to be a lot of excitement over me opening my eyes, and a lot of scurrying around to make sure I stayed awake. I wondered why they were calling my brother.  Was I going to die, or what?

“I love you, Son.”  The voice was familiar.  It was from that strange distant past, but it was familiar.  The voice was mine.

“He’s talking about his son,” someone said.

“We have no record of a son.”

“We have no record of him even being married.”

“Dr. Barnes is here,” the nurse said.

“I can’t lift my arms,” I said.

“You can lift your arms, just concentrate,” the male nurse said. “My name is Joe, and I’m going to help you concentrate. I'll keep smacking you till you punch me, if I have to.”

Why did I have to concentrate to lift my arms, I wondered. Joe lifted my right arm and massaged it and encouraged me to move it. I tried. It felt heavy. I tried to reach out. I saw my arm move, as if it was a delayed muscle reaction, but it was no use; the boy I was reaching for was gone and I let my arm back down.  I closed my eyes, trying to focus through the fog that the boy and the man had disappeared into, trying to find them again.

“Just let me go back,” I whimpered.  “I can’t lose them both; let me go back.”  But nobody was listening.

“Now, let’s try your legs,” Joe said.

I lay still.  Leave me the fuck alone.  Just let me go back to sleep and go back to the place I was.  I need to find them.  I need to find Jase.

“Try to lift your legs,” he said again. 

Yes, if my legs would move I could run to catch up to him. I engaged the muscles and felt my legs lift.  It was easier moving my legs, but they were very heavy, and I couldn’t run.  My brain was still in a fog.

“My legs feel like they weigh a ton,” I said wearily.

“You have very muscular thighs, they would be heavy,” Joe said, and I realized that he had been lifting my legs for me.

I choked on a sob that I couldn't run into the fog after the man and the boy.  

An older man with a stethoscope around his neck came to my bedside.  I focused on him as I felt my head begin to clear. 

“Well, welcome back,” he said with a tight, professional smile. By professional, it wasn’t a friendly smile, but one they had no doubt taught him in medical school to put his patients at ease. “I’m Dr. Barnes.”

“Thanks, but where have I been? What am I doing here?” I asked. I suddenly felt my head was clearing and I was feeling like my old self, enough that I could ask questions.

“This is Dr. Bernake,” Dr. Barnes said, motioning across my bed.

Unlike Dr. Barnes, Dr. Bernake put out this hand. He was a smallish man, with glasses and a grayish beard and bushy eyebrows. He reminded me of a mad doctor from an old Frankenstein movie. He smiled when I tried to put out my hand and he took it.

“It takes two of you?  What the hell’s wrong with me? Why am I being welcomed back? Where have I been? I need some answers,” I said, my concern now demanding answers. But my voice wasn’t demanding.  It was weak and the words came out slowly.

“Dr. Bernake is a doctor of psychiatry,” Dr. Barnes said.

I looked at Bernake with a confused scowl.  “And why do I need a shrink?”

“You’ve been away for quite some time,” Dr. Barnes said. “You’ve been in a coma.”

“A coma! What happened that would put me in a coma? How long have I been away?”

“Quite some time.”

“How long?” I asked again.

“Twenty six months.”

I just stared at him for along moment. “Twenty six months!” I said, finally. “What the hell happened?”

“Your barracks was bombed. They found you in the rubble. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Doesn’t sound like I was very alive,” I said. But the mention of barracks confirmed that I was military and that brought a swirl of memories flooding back.

“Oh, you were very much alive, you just weren’t living that life with us,” Dr. Barnes said.  “I’m going to leave answering your questions up to Dr. Bernake. He will start meeting with you right away.”

“In a few days, when you’re up to it,” Bernake put in.

“We’ll set you up with physical therapy immediately after we do a few tests,” Dr. Barnes said. “Right now I expect you’re hungry for some real food.”

“I’ve ordered a tray,” a nurse said.

“Then after you’ve gained your strength back, you’ll meet with your physical therapist, but then you’ll need to get some rest before he starts on you.”

“I’ve been resting for twenty-six damn months, I don’t need to rest,” I said.  “Did I hear someone mention calling my brother?”

“We haven’t gotten hold of him yet,” the nurse said.

“What about my parents?” I asked.

“We thought your brother should notify them personally,” Dr. Bernake said.  “You were talking about your son. Do you have a son that we should call?”

“I….don’t….have a son. I’m not married,” I said. “I don’t think I’m married.” I was doubting my own words. I thought I remembered a son from another time but I didn’t know how, or where, or even who he was.

Dr. Bernake left and Dr. Barnes finished examining me.  “You seem to be in good condition. We’ll run a few tests when you have your strength back,” he said.

A nurse brought in a tray with little dabs of stuff that I didn’t recognize, on several plates; in total, it didn’t look like it would feed a sparrow.

“Nobody told me yet; is this a military hospital?” I asked, surveying the pitiful offering of chow they had brought me. “And this doesn’t look like real food.”

“You’re in a military hospital,” the nurse said. “If you’re referring to your tray, you have to start out light since your stomach isn’t used to solid food. But don’t worry, it will remember.”  She remained at my bedside, as if she were waiting for me to eat. I raised my arm with great effort to pick up the spoon. It felt heavy--my arm, not the spoon--and I had to exert some energy to lift the spoon. Finally I let it drop and the nurse picked up the spoon.

“Don’t worry about it, for right now we just want to make sure you’re going to tolerate the food,” she said.

“I don’t even know what it is,” I said.

“Sorry, but you won’t be able to take solid food for a couple of days,” she said.

“Well, hell, what’s two more days, after twenty-six months,” I said sarcastically.

It didn’t matter all that much, the food wasn’t good and I was so tired.  I was only vaguely aware of her leaving with my tray.  I drifted off, wondering about the son they said I had talked about.  What was I missing?  What part of my memory wasn’t working?  I escaped into the fog and found myself searching again. If they would only let me go back……

I was awakened again.  I didn’t know how long I’d slept.  Not long.  The same nurse was still with me, and Joe came in. It was the same day, or the same time of another day. I wished they would just leave me alone. The longer I was kept awake the further they would be and I would never find them.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“You slept through the night and much of the day,” the nurse said.  “Are you ready for a bath?  Then we’ll find you something to eat.  You must be hungry.”

“No,” I said. “I mean, no to the bath. I’d rather take a shower.”

“I’m not sure you’re strong enough for that,” she said.

Another young guy had just come in and he introduced himself as my physical therapist. His name was Mitch, and he looked like he could be a brother to Joe; he was good looking and big and muscular. 

“Why don’t we find out,” he said. “I would like to do a quick prelim exam, Mr. Courter, if that’s all right, so I can do a workup for your physical therapy,” he said. He didn’t wait for my permission. He began examining me, my hands and arms, and told me to move my arms and make fists with my hands.  I did, barely, although they felt funny.  He had me try to sit up, using just my stomach muscles. I felt the muscles tighten but I didn’t raise up. 

“I’m in the military, don’t I have rank?” I asked.

“Yes, of course.  I will check that out and I will address you by your rank. Sorry,” he said.

“No, I was just asking,” I said.

He lifted the sheet to examine my legs and asked me to lift them and flex my calf muscles and move my toes. I could barely do any of it. He placed his big hands tightly around my thighs. “Flex your thigh muscles for me,” he said.  I did and he nodded with approval.

“You are in remarkably good shape for a man who has been immobile for such a long time,” he said as he put the sheet back over me.  “A little soft, but otherwise, how do you feel?”

“Confused. Maybe dead, only I don’t know what dead feels like.”

“I am encouraged by what I see but I think you’d better let them bathe you today; we’ll see about a shower in a couple of days.”  When I started to say something he shushed me.  “Just know that you aren’t going to be in this bed nearly as long as most would be.  You have the determination to bounce back fast and your strength will come.  But let’s don’t rush things, alright?

“Alright, but I want to eat first,” I said.

He laughed.  “All right, I will see you in the morning.” 

I managed to take several bites of whatever it was they had offered for nourishment but there was no taste. 

“Is this supposed to have a taste to it?” I asked, laying down the spoon. I was tired.

The nurse fed me several bites till I turned my head.

“You must eat.”

“I’ll eat when you bring me some food,” I said.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said.  After a few more bites I refused it and she gathered up my tray and left.  She returned within minutes with a plastic wash basin, towels and a clean gown.  She went into the bathroom to fill the basin.

“Let’s do this,” she said cheerfully as she came back out.

“Do we have to?” I groaned.

“Only a few more times maybe then you can do it yourself, maybe even get in the shower, with some help. Now just lie back and close your eyes and pretend it’s your girlfriend doing this,” she said.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” I said and I didn’t let go of the sheet when she tried to lift it.

 “Soldier, this is not my first rodeo.  You’ve been here over two years, you don’t have a thing I haven’t already seen hundreds of times, and that includes yours,” she said with exasperation as she pulled the top of my gown off.

“Now I’m embarrassed.”

“You don’t have a thing to be embarrassed about,” she said as she tugged the sheet out of my fingers and laid it back, leaving me virtually naked. “Why we’ve got nurses and nurse’s aides drawing straws to see who gets to give you your bath.”  She laughed heartily then said, “I’m kidding.”

“Now you’ve deflated my ego,” I said. 

“Maybe they’ve got a shot for that,” she quipped.

The warm cloth felt good.  She was a little rough, but this was a job to her; routine.  I was nothing more than a patient in need of a bath. She washed my face and neck and ears and it reminded me of my mother doing that when I was a little boy. She washed my arms and my armpits then my feet and legs, up to my crotch, then back up to my chest.  I got a little nervous as she washed down my stomach.

“I know you would rather have some pretty little thing doing this but I’m what you’ve got.”

“No, actually, I was thinking I might leave orders that I want you and only you to give me my bath,” I said.  She wasn’t pretty but I liked her. 

“Lordy, soldier, I’m old enough to be your mother.”

“Maybe I like older women.”

“And I’m married.”

“Maybe I like older married women.”

She gave that hearty laugh again. “Somehow, I don’t think you’re going to be confined to this bed very long.”

The banter was fun and I needed it to keep myself detached from the fact that she was washing my manhood, while I prayed that I wouldn’t get a hardon.  I didn’t, and that bothered me.   

Suddenly I was left alone in the darkened room with only a dim nightlight. Right away I wondered if that was smart. Not that I needed a baby sitter, but if they’d called a shrink in for my waking up, I was surprised they left me alone so soon. I lay in the dim darkness, truly conscious of my brain for the first time in twenty-six months.  I didn’t know how the brain worked in a coma. Did it go to sleep while I was asleep?  Was I really asleep? Had my brain deteriorated, and become unable to function normally? Would I have to learn how to do things all over again?  I tried to kick start the thought process, tried to remember. I was very aware that there was something I wanted to remember, something very strong that I could recall trying to hang onto--actually reaching out for--when I was waking up.  It tugged at me.  But nothing would come. That scared me, and I buzzed the nurse. She was there in a flash, but without a look of concern.

“I can’t remember much of anything,” I said.

“That’s nothing to worry about, things will start coming back to you,” she said.

“No, I can’t remember anything of the last twenty-six months,” I said, and my voice wavered. I was scared.  “There’s something I want to remember, like something tugging at my brain, but it won’t come.  Shouldn’t I be able to remember something, or did my brain just go into neutral? I’m not brain dead, am I?”

She took my hand in both of hers.  “Corporal, this is what you might call a silent trauma.  Sometimes everything has to learn how to work all over again. Your muscles, your brain.…don’t worry, you are otherwise strong and healthy; it’ll come. You just need to give it some time.”

“How much time?” I asked. “Or is there anything to remember? If my brain was brain-dead, maybe there’s nothing for me to remember after all.”

“No, you wouldn’t be talking to me if you were brain dead. But you need to talk to Dr. Bernake about these things,” she said, patting my hand. “Would you like me to stay a while?”

I felt like a baby, even having her ask me. But I replied, “Yes,” and she sat in the chair beside my bed.

"Excuse me, but I think I’m a sergeant," I said, rather absently.

"Your records show you as a corporal.  Unless you got a promotion sometime during those twenty six months that you didn’t tell us about." She was trying to joke around but I could only muster a weak smile.  I thought I was a sergeant.

I tried to sleep but I was afraid to. I started to doze off a couple of times but came awake with a start, from a dream of a terrible thunderstorm, and lightning.  I jumped so hard the bed shook and woke up the nurse who was dozing in the chair.

“Are you all right?” she asked, standing up beside the bed.

“I just woke up, started having a dream,” I said.

“I can get you something to make you sleep.”

“No!” I said quickly. “No, I don’t want anything to put me to sleep.  Is it storming out?” 

“No, the weather is calm,” she said.

“Listen, you don’t have to stay.  I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

She left and closed the door and I lay in the night again, wondering just how okay I was; or wasn’t. I tried to remember. Anything. It was a jumbled mess in my head, my thoughts fragmented. It was like a jigsaw puzzle with pieces turned upside down and a lot of the pieces missing. 

Morning came and I woke up with great relief. I had fought sleep, afraid I would slip back into the coma, but I was awake and I felt stronger.  I was able to move my arms and legs a little.  Joe brought a tray with what looked like real food on it.

“I want you to try to eat everything on the tray,” he said as he pushed the tray table across my bed.

“Does it have any taste to it?” I asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, handing me a spoon.

“Are you related to my physical therapist?” I asked.

“Mitch?  No, we’re just good friends.”

I ate nearly everything on the tray because Joe asked me to, and also because he stuck around to see that I did.  I liked Joe.  I liked his looks, the way he was put together, and I remembered being okay thinking like that.  I liked him a lot better than the female nurses.  I guessed my brain was working if it could remember my sexual orientation.

My physical therapy started out in my bed, and Mitch did most of the work.  Despite how strong I felt my strength wasn’t there. We started out by him lifting and moving my arms and legs, easing me into the process of moving them on my own. It was a short session and I was exhausted.

“I thought you said I was in great shape,” I said.

“You are, for someone who’s been out of it for twenty six months.  You didn’t expect to go to the gym and work out right away, did you?” Mitch said.

“Frankly, I’m not sure what to expect, if anything,” I said.

“I’m not going to listen to that attitude,” he said sternly. “My job is half your job.  I can’t do a thing for you unless you cooperate.”

“If I’m half your job, do I get half your pay?” I joked.

“That’s better,” he said.  “See you tomorrow.” 

To be continued...  

Posted: 03/06/15 rp