Mystic detective(16)

Paul stared out of the window. He stars were out and the planet Jupiter was bright in the Eastern sky on an early wintry evening. As a boy Paul had been keen on Astronomy, had wanted to become an Astronomer when he grew up, curiously not an Astronaut but an Astronomer. Life was simpler as a boy, days seemed endless and school holidays lasted a lifetime. His father had taught him to spot the stars, to find his way across the night sky, to feel a sense of awe at such wondrous creation and Paul felt it to this day. It was one brief area in which he and his dad had been able to meet.
But these memories of his childhood and of his dad made it even harder to accept the bruised body of his good friend Frankie that lay before him. Despite the best efforts of Keith the vicar Frankie had reached rock bottom and had thrown himself under a train. It was an awful way to go ‘Why Frankie why?’
Claudia was beside herself with grief and her doctor had given her a large dose of tranquillisers to calm her down and she sat staring at the wall, out of the window, anything to avoid looking at Frankie’s body.
Frankie was not in fact dead, or at least not yet. He was in a coma and on life support, tubes everywhere and fresh bruises from where the tubes had been inserted alongside the slightly older bruises from his encounter with the train. The next 48 hours would be critical. Either he turned a corner and became the long hard slog back to some kind of health or…
If prayers could work he would certainly pull through. His maternal Welsh chapel goers were on his case and were his paternal Italian catholic relatives. And Keith’s prayer group were already on the case too.
Paul felt useless sat at his friend’s bedside, holding his hand, being with him, not praying as such or certainly not actively but deeply being with him. He could do no other. Time past as did endless cups of rather tasteless hospital canteen or machine coffee. Night came and went. Paul was determined to see his vigil through – one way or another.
It was early morning 36 hours on, with Paul half asleep in a light doze, when Frankie’s eyes flickered and opened.
- Paul
-Frankie!
- Paul
- Oh Frankie….why?
- Why
- Why?
- All too much… all too much … feel like hell … really sorry
Frankie groaned and closed his eyes. Paul wept.