LOST
It's a Long Road Home

“Well, Stewart, I think you’re ready to go home,” the doctor told Stew. “You’re walking on your own less than a week after waking from your coma. All your vitals are good. I’d call it a minor miracle. I see no reason to keep you any longer.”

“That’s awesome,” Stew exclaimed.

“Now, I don’t want you doing anything strenuous for at least a month, and when you do, I want you to work up to it gradually.”

“It’s a deal.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“No.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Kasey?”

“Do you think there’ll be any long-term effects?”

“Well, as we talked about before, it’s hard to say, without him having any effects right now. If I had to guess at some long-term effects, it would be hallucinations, perhaps sensitivity to light. There are medications to control the hallucinations but those have side effects of their own. It all depends on the severity of the hallucinations and how much he can deal with. As for sensitivity to light, Stew, if that comes up, get yourself some eyeglasses with light-sensitive lenses. Anything else?”

“No, doctor,” Carolyn answered. “Thank you very much. You have no idea how much it means to us to have him going home with us today.”

“Just doing my job. But I am glad he’s okay. The occipital bone is the thickest part of the skull, so for something to make it through that, it could have been a lot worse. Well, you guys take care. I’ll send in the nurse with the discharge papers, and also a prescription for pain and also one for hallucinations, if you begin having trouble.”

“Thank you,” replied both Stew and his mother.

As the doctor left the room, Carolyn turned and gave Stew a big hug. “Your dad and I will have to go to your apartment this weekend and pack all your stuff up and bring it home.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you want your things, don’t you? Or do you just want to donate it all?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, because you’re moving back home with us.”

“No, I’m staying with you until I recover and then I’m coming back to Charlotte.”

“Stewart, I’m not letting you live by yourself in this city—not after nearly being killed.”

“Mom, it could’ve happened in Salisbury just as easily. In fact, it did a few years ago. Remember that guy who was attacked with a brick? You can’t force me to stay there. I’m a grown man. You can’t force me to do anything.”

“James, talk to your son,” she said, turning away and throwing up her hands.

“About what? He’s a grown man, like he said.”

“You’re on his side? Rrrrrr,” she growled. “We’ll talk about this at home. You’ll have to excuse us, Alex. I’m sorry. This is not over,” she said sternly, looking at Stew and James, and then walked out of the room.

“I’m sorry, guys. This should have been a… happier moment,” Stew’s dad said.

“Why does she have to be like that, Dad?”

“She’s just really protective of you and Becca. She means well. It just doesn’t come across that way.”

A nurse came in and gave Stew some paperwork to sign and told him he was free to go whenever he was ready.

“Alex, let’s give Stew some privacy so he can get dressed. Then, we’ll wheel him downstairs.”

James and Alex left the room as Stew retrieved his clothes from the drawer beside his bed.

Stew’s dad wheeled him through the hospital and out the front door where Carolyn was waiting with the van. Alex bent down beside Stew and kissed him gently on the cheek.

“You know, I think I got spoiled having lunch with you all week,” Stew said, blushing slightly.

“Yeah, I know. Me, too. If you make it back to Charlotte…”

“Hey—no. I’m coming back to Charlotte. Huh-uh, I can’t stay in Salisbury.”

“Well, you have my number,” she said, looking somber. “Call me if you get the chance.”

“Are you going to visit me?” Stew asked, cheekily.

“Maybe.”

“Okay,” he said, a big smile expanding across his face.

“Stew. Are you ready?” his dad asked, politely interrupting.

“Yeah, Dad. Alex, could you give me a hand out of this chair, please.”

She helped him out of the wheelchair and into the van, moving as slowly as she could. James closed the door and as he got in himself, Alex waved to Stew. He waved back and was still looking back at her when the van drove away.

“Are you still mad at me?” Carolyn asked from the driver’s seat, looking at Stew in the rearview mirror.

“It doesn’t matter,” Stew returned. “You’re the one who’s going to be mad at me. Two weeks. Max. And I’m back in Charlotte.”

She started to argue again but was stopped by her husband, “Honey, just drop it. We’ll pick up the conversation again tomorrow after everyone’s cooled off.”

“Fine,” she said.

Stew sat in the back, staring out the window with his jaw clenched when he saw what he thought was a dragonfly. He looked more closely and it looked like a mini-Cyndi Lauper with wings, flying beside the van. The tiny Cyndi looked at Stew, covered her mouth as she giggled and then waved. It looked like the faerie he thought he saw in the hospital courtyard. He wasn’t convinced it wasn’t the same faerie. Stew found his hand raising to shoulder heighth and waving back. After realizing that it was a hallucination, he quickly pulled his hand down with the other. He did not want his mother knowing that he was seeing things. That would make getting back to Charlotte that much harder. Besides that, he did not want to replace out what the side effects were on the hallucination medication. The next ten minutes, he sat facing the front, his eyes forward and his hands in his lap. Without moving his head, he used his peripheral vision to look out the window to see if Cyndi was still there and saw that she wasn’t. He looked out the window on the other side and she wasn’t there, either. He turned around, looked out the back window and saw tiny wings fluttering behind them. He quickly turned back around to face forward again.

“Are you alright, Stew?” his father asked.

“Yeah, just fidgety. Been in that room for too long.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll be home soon. Are you getting enough air?”

“Yeah. I’m good,” Stew assured him.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence, with the exception of a classic rock station playing on the radio.

When the Kasey’s arrived at home, the entire house was dark. Stew was eager to get inside and upstairs to his bedroom, not only to avoid any run-ins with the “Amazing Flying Cyndi” but also to avoid anymore arguing with his mother—at least until morning. He had hoped Becca would be home so he could have three to one odds against his mother. She couldn’t argue with three versus one. Alas, Becca was probably out with her friends, seeing a movie or some other Saturday night activity.

Stew went to the front door and found it unlocked. He carefully opened it, slowly peeking his head inside. “Hello? Anyone here?”

“Surprise!” yelled Rebecca, turning on the foyer light, revealing a ‘Welcome Home’ banner at the base of the stairs. Her excitement was quickly doused when she saw Stew’s face filled with resentment. “What’s wrong, Stew? Aren’t you happy to be home? You look like you just got grounded for two years.”

“Ha! That’s a good one. Ironic. Nice,” Stew quipped.

His parents filed in behind him, with equally grim faces.

“What did I do wrong?” Becca asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Nothing, Bec. We’ll talk about it later,” James replied, following Carolyn down the hall to their bedroom.

“Well, this is a fine homecoming,” Becca said under her breath.

“Becca, drop it,” Stew ordered from the upstairs landing. “The battle will continue tomorrow, I’m sure. Tonight, there’s a cease-fire,” he said as he walked into his room and firmly closed his door.

“Oh, boy,” she sighed. “Okey dokey. Wait—who’s going to eat this ‘Welcome Home’ cake?” After receiving no answer, she went into the kitchen and grabbed the cake off the counter. She started for the trashcan but thought better of it and set it down on the kitchen table. She went over to the silverware drawer and pulled out a knife and a fork, “I made this friggin’ thing. If no one else is going to eat it, I sure as heck will.” She grabbed a plate out of the cupboard, sat down at the table and cut herself a piece of cake.

“Welcome home, Bro,” she said quietly, stuffing a bite into her mouth.