Tunnel Vision

7

On the evening of the twenty-second day, Damian and Anthony stopped by the hospital. They had been back a few more times since the prayer incident, for which Maggie had apologized. And being the gentleman that he was, Damian said he had no hard feelings. He had even brought her a bouquet of flowers.

Zack was still breathing on his own, with his vital signs holding normal. But he was still at level two.

They chatted for a while. Maggie asked how they were doing in school, then told them how physical therapists came in daily to exercise Zack’s arms, legs, and feet and how she helped. Anthony was in the middle of a funny story about something that happened at the local mall when Zack suddenly rolled his head and made a strange cawing sound.

“Omigod!” Maggie cried out. Instantly she was on her feet and gripping his hand. “Zack! Wake up. Wake up.”

“He’s saying something!” Anthony said.

“He’s breaking through,” Damian said.

“Zack! Zack, wake up!” Maggie cried. “It’s Mom. Please, honey. Open your eyes.”

Zack’s mouth moved as guttural sounds rose from his throat—the first sounds he had made in three weeks. “Get the nurse,” Maggie said to Anthony, who bolted from the room. She rubbed Zack’s hand. “Zack, it’s Mom. Wake up!”

“His eyes are moving,” Damian said. “I think he’s trying to open them.”

“Zack! Open your eyes. You can do it. Open your eyes.”

While she continued coaxing him, Zack’s eyes rolled under his lids as if he were having an intense dream. But he didn’t open them, just kept muttering nonsense syllables.

A few moments later, Anthony returned with a nurse and an aide. The nurse began to rub Zack’s cheek. “Zack, it’s Beth Howard, your nurse. Talk to me, Zack. Talk to me. Open your eyes.”

Zack winced as if registering her voice. He continued muttering unintelligible sounds, but he didn’t open his eyes. “Zack, it’s Mom. Wake up. Please.”

“What’s he saying?” Anthony asked Damian.

Damian didn’t respond but stood transfixed, studying Zack’s face.

“Whatever it is, it’s a good sign,” said the nurse. The aide agreed, her cell phone in her hand presumably to call the resident. “Hey, Zack, your mom’s here. So are Anthony and Damian. Time to wake up. You can do it. Open your eyes.”

More mutterings from Zack as his head rolled slightly on the pillow. Maggie put her ear close to his mouth as he continued muttering strange syllables. “He’s saying something. He’s saying words.”

“Does he know a foreign language?” the nurse asked.

“He took a year of Spanish, but that’s not what it sounds like.”

Anthony leaned over Zack. “Hey, bro, it’s Anthony. Come out of there. We got some partying to do.”

But Zack made no response to the promptings, just continued muttering.

“It’s just gibberish,” Anthony said. “I do that when I sleep, too.”

“No, it’s not,” Damian whispered. “He’s speaking in tongues.”

“Tongues. What’s that?” Anthony asked.

“Glossolalia.”

“Glossowhat?”

“Glossolalia,” Damian said in a voice barely audible. “The Holy Spirit is speaking through him.”

“Cut the crap,” Anthony said as the nurse’s aide gawked at Zack. “It’s nothing.”

Damian nodded and fell silent.

Through a broken voice, Maggie continued to beg Zack to wake up, but after several minutes he fell silent again.

And anguish raked through her soul as Zack’s mouth stopped moving and his eyes fell still and he sank back into a deep sleep.

Although there were no changes in him, the nurse said it was a good sign that he tried to talk, tried to break through. There would be another time.

She and the aide replaced his IV and checked the monitors. Then the others resumed their vigil around Zack in his coma as acceptance settled over them like snow.

“False alarm,” the nurse said, and left the room.