Chapter 11
When they arrived at the hospital, Cobs excused himself with to go back to Brooklyn, "Spot told me ta make shoah ya got heah, but then I could go home."
"That's fine," said Dave, "Thank you for all of your help." Cobs nodded solemnly, then disappeared. Dave turned to Becca, whose anxiety was mounting.
"Now what do we do? How do we find him?" Dave put his hand on Becca's shoulder,
"We go to the front desk and ask them what room Thomas Conlon is in. Seeing as how you're his granddaughter, we shouldn't have too much trouble getting in to see him." Becca's head moved up and down slowly in a silent form of agreement. Dave knew this was all the reaction he was gong to get out of her. The reality of the depth of her grandfather's illness, bad enough for the hospital, caused Becca to be somewhat detached. 'Probably reliving the memories of her mother's death,' mused Dave. He headed to the main desk, Becca following him closely. The receptionist appeared preoccupied with something. "Excuse me," voiced Dave. The nurse turned to him,
"Yes? May I help you?"
"Yes. Can you tell me which room is Thomas Conlon's?"
"I'm sorry, blood relations only." Dave gestured to Becca,
"But this is his granddaughter, Rebecca Kelly." The nurse nodded and scanned her list,
"Ah, here we are, room 121. Now remember, only two people in the room at a time. There are already two people in with him now." Becca snapped out of her trance,
"But that's not right. There's three of us," she protested. "There's me, Jack, and Sp—I mean, Sean. We're all his grandchildren, the only 'blood relations' he has left." The nurse sighed,
"Alright, three people in the room," Becca nodded at her,
"Thank you," and took off down the hallway. She skidded to a halt in front of Room 121. From her view outside, she could see Jack, slumped and slumbering in a chair beside the bed. Tucked under a thick blanket was Thomas, his face the disturbingly pale. Becca's bottom lip trembled, and her eyes found Dave's.
"Go ahead," he whispered gently, "I'll wait out here." He lowered himself onto a couch down the hallway. Becca walked into the room and nearly collided with Spot, who was pacing back and forth throughout the room. They gazed at each other for a second then Becca was in Spot's arms, her tears dampening his shirt. Spot, not shockingly, was holding himself together quite well. Worry etched small lines across his face and lit his eyes with an unnerving light. He merely held Becca, not sure of how else to comfort her, that was Jack's department, not his.
"How ya doin', kid?" he asked when Becca pulled away.
"I'm alright, you?"
"Ise fine." Becca glanced over at Jack. Spot saw where she was looking and made a move to go wake him up. "I think it's time foah Jacky-boy ta get up." Becca took hold of Spot's arm,
"No, don't, leave him the way he is. I don't think any of us are gong to get much sleep tonight, so let him rest now." Spot continued on towards Jack, however.
"Wese takin' turns sleepin'. He told me ta wake him up if Grandpa wakes up oah if ya get heah." Spot shook Jack's shoulder, "Rise and shine, Jacky-boy. There's someone heah that you've been wantin' ta see foah awhile." Jack pulled his eyelids from his eyes. They opened wide when Jack saw Becca standing beside Spot.
"Becky!" Jack leapt from his seat and engulfed Becca in a gigantic hug. "I've missed ya!"
"I've missed you too, Jack," Becca returned in a shaky voice. "How are you holding up?"
"Okay. How 'bout you?"
"I'm doing good enough." Silence fell over the siblings and cousin as they gazed at what had brought them all into the same room from Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Kingston. "He looks so peaceful, in a frail way," commented Becca finally. "It's scary, though. I've never seen him look so…weak."
"He's a Conlon," Spot replied. "He's strong, even if ya can't see it." The Kelly siblings nodded in agreement, and they, along with Spot, settled in for a tiresome night.
***
Blink and Race shifted the weight of their papers and shuffled meekly into the hospital. "Are ya shoah this is the right one?" the former hissed to the latter.
"I'm shoah," answered Race. He scuffled up to the front desk and cleared his throat,
"Excuse me, Ma'm?" The receptionist glanced up and had to fight the urge to grumble in exasperation. These…newsies and the like had been pouring in and out of the hospital since early the morning before. And not one of them seemed to grasp the concept of visitor's hours or only two people in a room at a time. She forced a smile onto her face.
"How may I help you?" Race tipped his hat,
"If it's not too much hassle, could I trouble ya ta inquire the whereabouts of a certain Thomas Conlon?" The nurse sighed. Should she bother to tell them that he already had four visitors? It probably wouldn't make any difference.
"Room 121."
"Thank ya kindly, Ma'm. Ya wouldn't perchance be interested in buyin' a pape, would ya?" It's only a penny." The nurse shook her head. Race decided not to push the matter further—the nurse seemed to be near the breaking point for one reason or another. "Alright." Race tipped his hat to her again, as did Blink. They were heading down the hallway when Blink's head snapped up. He elbowed Race,
"Hey Race, d'ya see who I see?" Race peered in the direction Blink was pointing,
"Yeah, that's Dave."
"What's he doin' heah?" Race smacked the back of Blink's head,
"What d'ya think he's doin' heah? Jack had Medda send a telegraph ta Becca. Dave ain't just gonna let her come down heah on her own with her grandpa sick." Blink walked over to the sleeping Dave, stepping around the bags and guitar. He asked over his shoulder to Race,
"Should we wake him up?"
"Don't need to. I'm awake," Dave stood up stiffly while stretching. Race hopped over the things that had been tossed on the floor, coming to stand beside Blink.
"Heya, Dave," he shook vigorously with the curly-haired boy.
"Hi Race, Blink. What are you two doing here?"
"Giving Jack and Spot their papes so then can sell taday. But we could ask ya the same thing," Blink returned.
"I wasn't going to let Becca come down here by herself. She needs support."
"See, I told ya," whispered Race to Blink.
"So Dave," Blink asked, eyeing the baggage strewn about, "haven't ya gotten a chance ta go back home yet and dump yoah stuff?" Dave shook his head,
"No. We got here around 7 or 8 last night and haven't left since. Besides, my parents don't exactly know I'm here. I'm supposed to be testing in Kingston today."
"Yoah testing starts taday?" queried Race.
"You're gonna be able ta make the tests up, right?" Blink was beginning to get the feeling that Dave was hiding something. Dave mumbled incoherently while staring down at his feet.
"What was that, Dave?" Dave raised his head to meet Race's eyes.
"No. I'm not going to be able to make up the tests. I'm out of the Institution—that's what they told me when I told them I was leaving, even though I explained that it was an emergency." Race and Blink's faces were splayed with shock. They opened their mouths with protests ready to spew out when Dave cut them off. "Please, just don't say anything about it, especially not when Becca is around. Over the past week or so she's become kind of excited about what I'm learning and where it might have me headed. You know she won't be happy when she finds out I gave that up, even though we all know, even she does deep down, that it's worth it, that this is more important. But I don't want to upset her. She's under enough stress right now." Race and Blink mulled over this for a moment, then agreed.
"We won't say anythin', Dave."
"Thank you." A sharp clapping sound, like feet on the floor hurrying in their direction, caused the three to peer down the hallway. It was Rhys.
I have another chapter finished, but not typed up. I really need to catch up on reading on this sight since I haven't been able to get on ff.net in like two weeks, so if I have time later today I'll type it up and post it. If this chapter isn't as good as it should be, if it's choppy or anything like that, I apologize. I've had a lot of work to do recently, and not a lot of time to focus on writing. I will have time soon, though, so I really hope this gets better. I'm sorry for the chopiness, and thank you once again for all your reviews/support!—Kora.