ONE STEP UP AND ONE STEP DOWN.
One:
Ford McFadden crept quietly down the hospital corridor, stepped on to the elevator, and pushed the button for the fifth floor. His heart was pounding hard in his chest and he gasped for air. Seemed like he'd been holding his breath for so long, ever since he'd slipped out of the McFadden farmhouse in the dark of the early morning hours and coasted the old International truck down the driveway before he'd fired up the noisy engine.
The elevators slid open onto the brightly lit and cheerful walls of Pediatrics. Ford found himself staring straight into the jungle scene both he had and Evan had commented about the first day they'd seen it. A local artist had painted it, as a gift; it stretched all down the long wall to the nurse' station. Hidden animals crouched among the trees and long grasses. Not all of the animals were in their natural habitat: one scene showed a tiger wearing blue jeans sitting over cokes with a lion wearing a tuxedo and wearing a crown. Dolphins cavorted in the ponds with hippos playing volleyball. Two monkeys swung from flowery vines, apparently playing polo with a zebra and two kangaroos. All of the animals had almost human, smiling faces. The first day here, when it had been all about the waiting and the tests and everyone trying to hide how worried they were, Evan and Ford had spent hours staring at the mural, making lists of all the animals they saw, trying desperately not to think about why they were here.
He'd put on tennis shoes, instead of his boots, when he'd dressed in his dark bedroom, intent on not waking an exhausted Evan, or anyone else in the family. Those first terrified hours, they'd all stayed at the hospital, but after the second day oldest brother Adam had imposed order. Adam, Crane and Hannah took turns spending the night. Brian and Daniel split the days, with the other members of the family visiting as much as possible, while still keeping the ranch running. Evan and Ford came in the evenings, after school, after chores. Both of them wanted to be there more. Evan wasn't going to his rodeo classes after school. Ford barely paid attention in class. He was sure he'd flunked a pop quiz in Geometry that morning; for the first time in his life, he didn't even care.
They'd all been here this afternoon, though, to hear the results of the last bunch of tests. The news had been both terrifying and wonderful.
Ford's little brother Guthrie was sick. Very sick. So sick the word "dying" was no longer just a nightmare lost in the grip of darkness.
But Ford could save him. Ford would save him.
The nurse looked up from her charting. She half rose, and then she seemed to recognize him, although Ford wasn't sure he'd ever seen her. She smiled. "You're here late. Or early, I guess. You by yourself?"
After the third day, the hospital staff had stopped even mentioning the words "Visiting hours."
Ford nodded, summoned up a smile from somewhere. "I couldn't sleep," he admitted, and that was true enough. "How is he?"
"He's asleep. Your older brother left a few minutes ago. Went to get coffee. He'll be back in a few minutes."
Adam was keeping sentry duty tonight over their youngest brother. It was Adam, even more than Guthrie, that Ford had been driven to see. "I'll just go down to Guthrie's room."
The nurse frowned. "Don't wake him," she cautioned. "He's a very sick boy."
Ford bit his lip. He wanted to rail at her, Do you think I don't know that? But he didn't. They couldn't help it, he'd decided. Nurses must be trained to say stupid stuff like that. "I won't," he managed to say. He went down the hall to one of the last rooms from the nurse's station. He'd heard a couple of nurses talking, one day in the cafeteria, about how Guthrie was so sick he really should be closer to the station, but then one nurse had said, 'He's never alone. He's always got family with him. Some of the other kids on the floor don't."
"Funny, isn't it?" the other nurse had commented. "The one kid on the ward who is technically an orphan, and he has more family caring about him than the ones with parents and grandparents."
The door was ajar. Ford slipped in. Almost all the lights in the room were dark, just the light above the bed was glowing. Ford tiptoed through the room and slid into the chair by the bed. He studied his sleeping brother. Guthrie looked even worse than he had that afternoon. The doctors had said they were keeping the worst of the pain at bay with medication, but as toxins built up he'd be more uncomfortable. Guthrie had had two dialysis treatments so far. It had almost destroyed Ford when his little brother broke down in tears hearing he would have to have more of them. Guthrie was a tough little guy. He'd had to be, growing up with six older brothers. It took a lot to make him cry.
Ford slid his hand over Guthrie's, feeling the abnormal puffiness in his fingers. More signs of ESRD: end stage renal disease. Ford had done stayed late at school one day, doing research. He still couldn't believe Guthrie-his baby brother, who was only twelve years old-was in "end stage" anything.
"Ford? What are you doing here?"
Adam's voice was hushed, in deference to their sleeping brother, but still Ford was startled. He swung around in the chair to see his oldest brother leaning against the door. Honestly, Adam didn't look much better than Guthrie. Worry and exhaustion had drawn harsh lines on the oldest McFadden's handsome face.
When Ford didn't say anything, Adam frowned. "Ford? What's going on? Did anybody come with you?"
Ford shook his head. "They were all asleep. I came on my own. I have to talk to you."
Adam sighed. He took a sip from the steaming Styrofoam cup in his hand. "I hope you left a note," he said wearily. "Brian and Hannah'll be up in a few hours, and I don't want them to have to worry about you, too."
Ford shook his head. He hadn't left a note, hadn't wanted to take the time and run the risk someone would wake up. "They'll figure out where I am," he said, because, really, where else would he be?
Adam looked down at Ford's hand holding Guthrie's, and some of the lines eased from his face. "Look, Ford, I think I know why you're here."
"You do?" Ford asked, surprised.
"Yeah." Adam came farther into the room, put his cup down on the bedside table, and rested his hand on Ford's blond hair. "I know all this is frightening. Especially what we found out today. But, Ford, you don't have to worry. I told you, we'll make the decision that works best for everybody. It doesn't have to be you."
Ford stared at his older brother. "What are you talking about? You think I'm here because I don't want-you think I'm a coward?"
"Of course not!" There was no mistaking the conviction in Adam's tone, even if his voice was barely above a whisper. "But it's okay to be scared. I'm scared. And you have your whole life-"
Ford had to interrupt. Adam was sounding just like Daniel had, earlier this evening. "No. I mean, you're wrong. I…I'm the one who needs to do it. I want to give Guthrie one of my kidneys."
Adam passed a weary hand in front of his face. "I know you do," he said calmly, like he just hadn't told Ford he didn't have to, not one minute before. "But Ford, it's not your decision."
"The hell it's not!" Ford couldn't ever remember cussing at his oldest brother. By the look of shock on Adam's face, he couldn't remember it ever happening, either. Shooting a look at the bed to make sure he hadn't woken Guthrie up, Ford went on in a whisper. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, Adam. You know that. But Daniel, Evan and I are the closest matches to Guthrie. It needs to be one of us. And…we decided it would be me."
"Really," Adam drawled. "And you drove all the way into Sonora at three o'clock in the morning to tell me what the three of you decided."
"Yes!" Ford insisted. "I-we wanted to tell you right away. So you can tell the doctors first thing, and they can schedule the surgery and-and Guthrie can start getting better." He heard his own voice break and dropped his head before Adam could see the tears in his eyes.
Too late. The oldest McFadden came closer and wrapped his arms around Ford, hugging him tightly. "You're a good brother, Ford," he whispered. Then he pulled away and started down into Ford's eyes. "So what criteria did the three of you use to decide who would donate?"
"Yeah, I'd love to hear that too," said a new voice from the doorway.
Ford and Adam jerked around to see Daniel and Evan-both of them looking tired and pissed off-in the door. Behind them loomed Crane and Brian. Hannah pushed past all of them and slipped into Adam's free arm.
Adam raised his eyebrows. "What are you all doing here?"
"I woke up and little brother, there, wasn't in his bed," Evan volunteered, nodding at Ford.
"And the rest of us woke up when he went pounding on all the doors looking for you," Daniel told Ford.
"We were worried, Ford," Hannah said softly.
"You could have left a note," Crane pointed out.
Daniel folded his arms and glared at Ford. "Now, it seems like you were telling big brother here that we-" he pointed at himself and Evan "all agreed that you were going to do this. Which is a surprise to me, because I thought we all agreed it should be me."
"Like hell we did!" Evan fired back, glaring at both of them.
"Language!" Adam snapped, and then he blushed when they all stared at him, because, really?
"What's going on?" asked a tiny voice from the bed. Everyone turned to look, and Guthrie was awake, blinking sleepily. He looked around and saw all of them and his eyes lit up.
"Oh, this is just too much." The night nurse bustled in then, squeezing past McFaddens until she got to the bed. "You're supposed to be asleep, young man," she said, sounding for all of the world like a parent. "And all of you-you can't all be here at night. We have to think of the other patients."
Ford couldn't figure out what the other children on the floor had to do with it. This was his family. "You know I'm right," he begged, looking at all of them but especially at Daniel and Evan.
"I'm the oldest!" Daniel insisted.
"I'm the closest match!" Evan fired back.
"By one half a percentage point! A difference that doesn't make any difference isn't a difference at all!"
Brian shook his head. "Okay, it's way too early in the morning to try to figure out what that means."
"Why are you fighting?" Guthrie broke in, looking around wide-eyed.
That small, frightened voice froze everyone in their tracks. The nurse shook her head at all of them and leaned over Guthrie. "Are you hurting, sweetie? I'll get some pain medicine." She started to leave the room. "Your family can say good night while I'm gone, because when I get back, I only want to see one, or at the most, two of you here." She lowered her voice, hissing, "If you all are going to argue, take it out to the waiting room! He doesn't need to see his family falling apart right now."
There was silence when she left.
"Why are you fighting?" Guthrie asked again. He looked around and swallowed hard. His eyes were too bright when he asked, "Is it about me?"
"Of course not," Brian started, coming to the other side of the bed.
"Don't lie to him," Crane snapped. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "In a way, it's about you, Guth. But no one's angry with you. We just all want you to get better."
Ford thought that the glares he'd been getting from Evan and Daniel were nothing compared to what Brian and Crane were exchanging above Guthrie's head.
"Okay, that's enough," Hannah said. "You all need to talk this out, and stop trying to pick fights with each other. It's not helping anything." She looked up at her husband then. "I'll stay here with Guthrie," she said gently. "I know you wanted to wait until morning to hash this out, but everybody's here and no one is getting any sleep, anyway."
Adam unclenched his jaw long enough to give her a loving smile. Then he pointed to the door. "All of you, out. Since we're going to do this now, let's do as the nurse said and go to the waiting room."
"But I want to know what's going on!" Guthrie implored, reaching out to catch Crane's sleeve. "Why are you all mad?"
"Yeah, Crane, why don't you explain that to him?" Brian said acidly.
"Stop it!" Adam went toe to toe with Brian. "I know you're scared. But this isn't helping!"
Brian stared at him for a second, then dropped his gaze. "You're right. I'm just…" he took a deep breath. "Crane," he started.
"I know," the third brother said. "Me too." He looked at Guthrie. "We're all worried about you, you know, Guth," he said quietly. "And we all feel helpless. So we're yelling at each other. But we'll stop, I promise." He leaned over and kissed their youngest on his forehead. He stood up and Hannah slipped into his place.
To be continued...