it, but I remember waking up on a hospital bed with tubes down my throat .” Ken placed the pages on the table, unable to read any more. He had a pretty good idea of what they said anyway.
“Hanna,” Ken said as he lifted her off Patrick’s lap and set her on her feet. “Please go into the living room and watch your video, I need to talk to Patrick, okay?” She nodded and slowly left the room. Ken carried her juice into the living room and got Hanna settled before returning to where Patrick sat at the table. After sitting down next to him, Ken lightly touched Patrick on the shoulder. “I’m sorry about what happened. Was it Hanna’s singing that…?”
Patrick shook his head before taking a deep breath and pointing toward the papers. Ken picked them up again and began to read, wondering just what Patrick wanted to say. “ I couldn’t talk or swallow and I could barely keep my eyes open. There was a hole in my throat with a tube that I was using to breathe .” Ken read as fast as he could. “ The doctors all said I was lucky to be alive, and then they gave me the bad news that I would never talk again. At first, I didn’t believe them, but over the weeks as I began to heal and the tubes came out, when I tried to speak, all that came out were grunts and noises. My throat hurt all the time, and I kept thinking that the doctors were wrong and that over time I would talk again. But I never did .” Ken set down the paper and read the last sheet. “ Eventually I came back here and tried to build some sort of life for myself away from the stage and the life I’d known and wanted .”
Ken set the last page on the table, looking at Patrick as he stared back. “I don’t know what to say.” Patrick shrugged and pointed to the bottom of the page where Ken saw the name Pat Flaherty printed cleanly, and he gasped. Ken knew that name. In fact, he had both the albums Patrick had referred to earlier in his notes. Ken stared at Patrick, almost unable to believe what he’d been reading. But he also seemed to remember Pat Flaherty suddenly disappearing, and at the time Ken had wondered why. Now he knew. “I loved your music, but that wasn’t everything you were then or are now.” Ken stood up, touching Patrick on the shoulder. “I’m sorry about what happened to you, and I can understand why you’d rather be silent than sound like a computer.” Ken leaned forward, put his arms around Patrick’s neck and pulled him into a hug that felt so right it nearly took Ken’s breath away. “I know what it’s like to lose, or in my case, nearly lose something very precious.” He felt Patrick nod against his shoulder and heard a soft sound. He wondered if Patrick was trying to speak, but the sound ended and Ken felt Patrick’s arms wind around his waist.
“Daddy,” Hanna called from the other room, and Ken released Patrick from the hug.
“I have to see what she wants,” Ken explained, and Patrick nodded. As Ken walked toward the other room, he wondered just how many people knew Patrick’s story, and he realized there couldn’t be many that he’d ever taken the time or the effort to explain to just what had happened. People in town must know who he was and the barest outline of events, but Ken figured he was in exclusive company to have Patrick explain what had happened in his own words. “What is it, honey?” Ken asked as he approached where Hanna sat watching television.
“Is Patrick going to be okay?” Hanna asked as she looked up at him.
“Yes. He was just upset, but it wasn’t anything you did,” Ken explained, and he heard footsteps. Turning around, he saw Patrick standing in the doorway with his coat on, nodding his thanks. “You’re welcome anytime,” Ken said, hoping Patrick would visit again.
Hanna slid off the sofa, hurrying to where Patrick stood. “I’m sorry if I made you sad. I won’t pick on you anymore.” Patrick lifted her into his arms, and she hugged him enthusiastically. “I