The Desperate Hours
Sometimes, words just have to come out.
The large, powerful lion looked through the observation window into the hospital room beyond, his forepaw clenched desperately into a fist pressed against the glass, his face caught somewhere between terror and rage. The body in the bed beyond lay motionless, as it had done for some time now. Except for machines proclaiming otherwise, he might have been dead.
The great cat looked around as he heard pawfalls rushing up behind him. Another lion and a bull stepped up to embrace him.
"We came as fast as we could. How is he?"
"I don't know. He..." Trembling, he shuddered in the dual embrace and tried to regain himself. "I couldn't stop it. I couldn't fix it. I tried, I swear I tried..."
"We know. We know that." The furs clung to each other, tears flowing. Others arrived, quietly at first, some looking in through the glass, some standing to the side, waiting for a chance to speak. Otter, Irish setter, cheetah, panther, folf, mouse, wolverine, Saluki, dragon, tiger, vixen, mare, stallion, the corridor was crowded with the huge presence, and still more would come. Some whispered among themselves, some went to the lion to comfort him, all faces drawn, haggard, tear-stained.
"I should have known," whispered a dark-furred Akita somberly. "Of all of us, I should have known."
The dragon set a gentle claw upon his shoulder. "How? How could you, any of us know? He could only share what he wanted to."
"This is our fault."
"No."
"Yes." The pup trembled. "We asked too much of him. We went too far."
"No," the cheetah murmured softly. "We didn't go far enough."
"There is only so much we can do from a distance."
"We should have closed the distance."
"How?"
"He had no one there, when he most needed us. He gave us everything. He gave all of himself, gave us each other, reminded us of all that we are, helped us discover how much more we could be... He was friend, mentor, coach, guide..."
"Don't use the past tense," the vixen shook her head, arms folded against something cold, "please... it doesn't smell right."
"He is loved," the Saluki said softly. "But we're all so far away. All over the world, we know him, we appreciate him, but he's still alone."
"He gets emails, and letters, and compliments and comments, and..."
"Have you ever had a letter rub your back? Or smile back at you, or touch your cheek? Can an instant message share your meal, or keep you warm, or be your lover?" The Saluki's eyes burned with fresh tears. "He knows how much we love him, but he's still alone. There's been so much pain, so much gone wrong, so much taken from him - family, home, income, esteem... hope..."
The silence lay thickly for some moments before the stallion spoke. "What happened?"
"He finally found a way." The lion pressed his forehead against the glass, his voice low, miserable. "Something he could actually do to himself. And for all we know, he succeeded."
"Don't say that!" The folf shouted. "No, he can't die, he won't die! He mustn't..." He collapsed, sobbing, against the mouse, who pet his headfur softly.
"It's up to him how," the dragon intoned. "You're right, young one - we didn't go far enough. We let him down. He needs so little, yet so much, and we didn't... we couldn't have known what we were asking of him. He gave us life. We just didn't know that it was his life. And he had nothing left in his own world to sustain his own..."
In the stark hospital bed, the human lay unconscious, unaware that the corridor was empty, that no one was waiting for him, that no one held his hand, that machines kept vital functions continuing but offered no hope of restoring life. If there were a crushed soul still part of this world, it was no longer his own. Somewhere, a conversation continued without him. Had he been aware of it beforehand, he might not have been here. But that, as any writer would tell you, is another story...