Chapter 14

Once again Paul found himself waiting on a bench, in the corridor, for news of Alon's condition. Gavin was asleep, leaning over one of the arms of the bench, resting his head on his hands. Paul could not sleep. He had been up all night while they had been operating on Alon. Paul's circadian rhythm was completely ruined, and he did not know whether it was morning or evening. It was light outside, and Paul felt cold, so thought that it must be early morning. He was really amazed by the intensity of the bond he had developed with Alon. At the back of his mind he was thinking about trying to adopt him. He tried not to think about it, since he was unsure as to whether he would succeed and did not want to get his hopes up. Besides, at the moment, most of his emotional energy was being dedicated to praying for Alon to live.

Finally, once again, a doctor emerged from the theatre corridor. Paul tried not to read the expression on his face as he stood to greet him.

"Alon's guardian?"

"Yes, I- I think so," said Paul, stumbling because he suddenly realised that with Alon now a ward of the state, he had no right to decide anything about Alon's treatment.

"The surgery was tricky, and Alon had to be resuscitated once."
"So is he okay?" said Paul, hopefully.

"He is stable at the moment, but I'm afraid we can't rule out the possibility of permanent brain damage."
"Oh, God!" said Paul.

"Wait, Professor Durant. Don't go making any assumptions just yet. He may be absolutely fine."
"But what if he isn't?"
"I'm afraid we shall have to wait and see. They'll be taking him back to the PICU soon."

Paul nodded, and the doctor shook his hand, and left. Paul sat back down and covered his mouth with his hand. He had a headache, and his arms and legs felt heavy. He prodded Gavin, gently.

"Huh?" said Gavin, stretching.

"Come on," said Paul. "They'll be taking him back up to the ward soon,"

Gavin followed Paul back to the ward on autopilot. Paul felt weaker with every step, and was finding it hard to put one foot in front of the other. He felt as if his muscles were going to let go of his legs.

Paul and Gavin waited in silence for Alon's return. It was 11 o'clock when he was finally wheeled back in. It had been six hours since he had come out of surgery. The medical staff took him off the portable and connected him back to the static equipment in the cubicle. To Paul they seemed a blur as they talked and scribbled, until finally, they were gone. Paul went over to Alon's head. He was not prepared for what he saw, and began to cry. He looked worse than ever, with his head so swollen that it made his features seem pushed together. His eyes were bruised, and his skin was in varying shades of white, back and purple. His fists were clenched, and also bruised, with IV tubes coming out of them. Both wrists had plastic boards bandaged onto them. The machine that beeped with Alon's heartbeat was more rapid and highly pitched than before. The mass of bandage around his head pressed on his ears making them stick out to the sides. Paul took Alon's hand with one of his, and wiped his eyes with the other. More and more, he felt for Alon as if he were his own son. It was hurting him badly.

Gavin noticed his tears and put his arm around him. Paul returned the hug. When Gavin let go, he felt Paul's body slump and had to catch him again before he hit the floor. "Little help!" he called. He was joined by a nurse and a doctor.

"What happened?" asked the doctor.

"He's exhausted," said Gavin. "Physically and mentally. He's been here for days. Since Alon came in here he's spent one night away. He isn't sleeping or eating properly. He's really taken this thing to heart."

The doctor looked at the nurse, and she nodded and walked out.

Paul groaned as he came to.

"Please, Paul, don't get up too quickly. How are you feeling?"
"Fine," said Paul, quietly.

"Honestly, please," said the doctor, curtly.

"Sick," said Paul.

The doctor took Paul's cold, clammy wrist and felt for a pulse.

"Maybe you should go back to camp, Paul?" said Gavin.

"No. I want to stay here."

The doctor smiled at him, and the nurse returned, pushing a trolley.

"Can you give us a hand?" asked the doctor, and Gavin obliged. He tried to lift Paul, but as soon as he was to his feet they began to buckle again. The two women helped put him on the trolley, on his side.

"I'm sorry," said Paul.

"Don't mention it," said the doctor. "I admire your dedication. Now," she said, and put an IV into Paul's arm.
"What's that?" asked Paul.

"Some fluids, nutrition, vitamins," said the doctor.

"Thankyou," said Paul, and drifted off to sleep.

"We'll take care of him, "said the doctor, as Gavin opened his mouth to speak. She gave Paul a chart and recorded the treatment on it.
"Can you do that?" asked Gavin.

"Happens more than you'd think."

"What?"
"Exhausted parents."
"He's not-"
"We know the story," said the doctor. "We think it's wonderful. We just hope that Alon is alright."
"So do we," said Gavin. "So do we."

"You don't look so good yourself. Why don't you go and get some rest?"

"I think I might," said Gavin. "Camp is winding down. There are kids already going home, and there are things for Paul to sort out, so I guess I should get started on them!"

"We'll call you if there's any news. About either of them."

"Thanks."
Gavin left.

Back at camp, Gavin checked Paul's pigeon hole to find a telephone message from Mr. Bisset, asking to be called back. Gavin picked up the phone and dialled.

"Bisset!" said Matthew.

"Hello, Mr. Bisset, this is Gavin, I work for Professor Durant, who I believe you have been talking with."
"Yes, and call me Matthew. Where is Paul?"
"I'm afraid he is still at the hospital."

"Is Alon any better? I've spoken to Adrian and he told me that he had to have another surgery."
"That's right."
"Well, I rang because I have managed to get some holiday time, so I can stay with Adrian in California. School doesn't start again for another three weeks, and we'll be happy to offer any help we can."
"That's very kind of you, Matthew."
"Least I can do. He's been a real friend to Adrian."
"And vice versa, clearly," said Gavin.

"I'll be collecting Adrian tomorrow."
"See you then."
"Goodbye."

Gavin headed for Alon's dorm, and found Adrian lying on Alon's bunk, and cases and boxes on the floor.

"I packed Alon's things for him," said Adrian, sadly.

"Thankyou, Adrian; that was very thoughtful."
Adrian nodded. Gavin could not think of anything to say to comfort him. He could not tell white lies and fob him off like he could an 'ordinary' child. Adrian would see right through him. He decided to be honest, as he knew Adrian would respect that.
"Alon's latest surgery was 'tricky'- that's what the doctor said. They say he might have some brain damage, but that they won't know until he wakes up."
"Thankyou," said Adrian; he really appreciated Gavin's candidness.

"Maybe when your father comes to collect you, you can go and see him again."
Adrian nodded and smiled.

"Why don't you go and join in with one of the games?"
"I'm tired," said Adrian.

"You know, playing sports can make you less tired."
Adrian nodded lethargically.
"Or maybe you could join in the chess tournament this evening?"
"I don't feel like it."
"You might feel better if you talk."
"I don't want to talk about Alon."
"Who says you have to talk about Alon?"

"I don't know."

Gavin could see he was losing the battle, and did not want to force the issue. "Just think about it, okay?"
Adrian nodded.