Chapter Seven

Edison stood by the bathroom door as Bryce vomited into the toilet. He didn't say anything. He couldn't think of anything appropriate to say. He knew full well that Bryce was not alright.

Bryce reached for a towel, and paused.

"Edison!" he cried out. "Edison!"

"Right here, kid," Edison said, entering the small room and taking the towel from the rack.

"I can't see you!" Bryce sounded panicked. Even though he knew this was coming, he had not expected it to be so terrifying. "I can't see anything!"

"Bryce, I'm right next to you," Edison told him. "If you're done in here, I'll lead you back to the bed and you can rest until dinner."

"I don't want any dinner," Bryce snapped. "You'll probably try to trick me into eating something awful."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Edison asked, trying to diffuse the situation with a little humor. "You already know you're going to be eating my cooking."

"You'll probably sneak me some of Murray's cooking," Bryce shot back. When he thought about what he'd said, he began laughing. But it was not to last.

He was sobbing a moment later.

"I can't eat anymore," he said. "How will I see the food? How will I keep it from falling off my fork if I can't even see the damned fork?"

"You could eat sandwiches," Edison suggested as he lead Bryce to the bed. "Or crunch fries. You can eat those with your hands. And there's always pizza."

Bryce sniffed back his tears and smiled a little as he felt the edge of the bed and sat down. "Yeah. I guess there are lots of different types of pizza. I suppose that's okay."

"I'll let you know when it gets here tonight," Edison said. "Plain cheese okay?"

"Yeah," Bryce agreed. He curled up on his side, not quite in the right direction.

Edison moved the pillow under Bryce's head and fixed the blanket so it covered him.

"Get some sleep," he suggested.

Some hours later, Bryce was awakened by the sound of Edison's voice coming from the TV.

"Edison!" he cried out, fearing that the reporter had gone back to work and left him. Something told him that wasn't it. That there was another explanation. But he couldn't think of what it was.

"I'm right here, Bryce," Edison told him from his seat on the end of the bed.

"I thought you were on TV," Bryce explained.

"That's just Max," Edison explained.

Bryce's face became a mask of confusion.

"Who?"