Breaking Down, Wishing Away (Sodapop Curtis Love Story) {SEQUEL}

Chapter 2: Now What?

“Where is he?” I busted through the emergency room doors and ran to the front desk.  “Sodapop Curtis.  What room?”

“Ma’am, he is in critical condition.  No visitors allowed.”  The blonde nurse said. 

I rolled my eyes and began fast walking around every room until I found the right one.  The nurse was chasing me hollering “Ma’am, ma’am,” getting louder each time. 

Finally I found the right room and saw Sodapop lying in the bed beat up and blood dripping everywhere.  His skull was cracked open and had a bunch of doctors sticking needles and tubes everywhere on him.  

“Be careful with him!” I screamed at the doctors.  The nurse that followed me was calling for security.  “What happened to him?”

“Who are you?” One doctor asked me.

“His wife.” I said with an exhausted exhale

The doctor paused. “He was in a head on collision with a produce truck.  His car was totaled.  He’s lucky to be alive.”

At that point the security guards showed up and started dragging me out of the room.  I was wrestling with them to try to get loose.  The same nurse asked me to ‘politely calm down’ and I told her to politely f--- off.  The guards started restraining my harder and I got a fist loose and did what any greaser was born to do—sock him straight in the jaw.  On that note, I was dragged out of the room and in the waiting room.  Darry was walking down the hallways and got me loose from the guards.  I didn’t even try to hug him; I just leaned against the wall with tears beginning to fall.  I turned facing the wall and started to punch it then sank to the ground.

I was now uncontrollably sobbing.  “Darry, what am I going to do?  What if he dies?  We planned to grow old together and watch our kids grow up.  He’s my husband and a father.  He has a daughter waiting for her daddy to come home and another baby on the way.” I paused for a bit and was calmer, “The last thing I said wasn’t the best.  What if that was the last thing I’ll ever say to him. 

A week passed and Soda had been in a coma.  I visited him today in the hospital.  The nurse told me that he was awake and I sprang into his room with a huge smile across my face.  He saw me and I walked towards the chair next to his bed.  He smiled at me, grin to grin. 

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi,” Soda said back.

“Do you know who I am?” I asked.  The gang had been in the waiting room all week and stood at the doorway. 

“Yeah,” He said.  This must’ve been the biggest smile ever.  He continued, “You’re my doctor.” Soda was still smiling, while mine started to fade. 

My chair flew back when I stood up abruptly and I cupped my hands to my mouth as my eyes swelled with tears.  I was facing away from Sodapop.  After the initial shock I bolted out of the room and quickly made my way to the entrance of the hospital.  My hands were stilled cupped to my face, then I was struggling to get my cigarettes out and trying to light one, but my hand was shaking too much.  Dally’s hands steadied mine and we lit my cigarette.  

After a little silence and a couple puffs I spoke up, “He doesn’t remember me.” I paused, “He doesn’t know I’m his wife or that he’s a father or anything!”

Dally didn’t say anything at first, he just listened.  “The doctors said that he’d hopefully regain his memory.  He just has to slip back into his normal life.”

I rolled my eyes, “Hopefully…”

“Look would you quit worrying? There ain’t nothing you can do right now except be a good wife and help him slip back.” Dally replied. 

I realized that he was right.  I just need to focus on getting Sodapop’s memory back and helping my husband through his rough path.  I needed to do this for the both of us.  Dally and I went back into the hospital to go and give Soda all our help.