CHAPTER NINE
In his old room, Keith lay with his back to the door, on his left side, not quite sleeping, but drifting in and out. Pain blocked most of the sleep, but he was way too tired to get up and get a painkiller, so he suffered. The rest of his sleep was interrupted by various family members, peering in on him. Not that he could see them do it, but he heard the door open, pause and close again several times during the morning. Why didn't they just leave him alone? He craved rest; needed it so very badly, and their concern, curiosity, whatever it was that drew them to his door wasn't helping the cause.
As he closed his eyes, shuddering against another wave of pain that surged over him, he heard the door open again and he sat up, lashing out at the intruder, who this time turned out to be Laurie.
"What? What do you want?" he cried, suddenly wishing he hadn't moved so fast.
"Nothing, I…" Laurie was startled by this attack. "I was just checking on you."
Furious and frustrated, Keith clenched his fists. "I'm fine! Just leave me alone, okay? And tell everybody else to knock it off, too!"
Laurie nodded almost meekly. "Okay, sorry…"
She backed out of the room and he sat there, his chest heaving from the pain his angered move had caused. He pressed back into the headboard behind him, his eyes spilling a mixture of painful and angry tears. He didn't want to drive them away, but they didn't know what he was going through. They were healthy; they couldn't understand how bad the pain was, didn't know what it was like to face a slow and painful death.
He slid carefully out of the bed and reached over, locking the door. That would keep them out for a while; it would let them know he was serious. Pain rushed him and he fell against the door, sliding down to the carpet, where he huddled, unable to move for the moment and unwilling to cry out.
Everyone was gathered in the dining room, eating the brunch Shirley had prepared. Everyone but Keith, and Laurie, who came in looking flustered. "Somebody needs to talk to Keith!" she almost growled.
"Why? Where is he, anyway?" Shirley looked worried.
"He practically threw me out of his room. All I did was peek in on him and he hit the roof, telling me he was okay, and wanting everyone to leave him alone!" She pulled out a chair.
"We have to be patient with him, Laurie. He's got a lot on his mind right now. Things will settle for him soon and he'll get back to being the big brother we used to know," Chris told her. He and Danny had decided not to tell the women the whole story; how Keith was refusing any treatments, and just how sick he really was, mainly because Chris couldn't be certain himself. He only hoped that his brother would come to his senses and fight his disease.
"That's NOT a plus," Danny kidded.
Shirley sighed, taking her place at the table. "I suppose he won't be coming down to eat, will he?"
Laurie snorted. "Not after that outburst. It's probably better for all of us if he just stays in his little room."
Shirley shook her head sadly.
****
Keith's door was locked; not really surprising, but it worried Shirley as she stood in the hallway with a tray of food from the brunch for him. She was almost afraid to knock. "Keith?" she called, gently tapping on the door
.
There was no answer; what if he was asleep? Worse yet, what if he was in pain and couldn't GET to the door to open it. She swallowed back her worry, and tried again, this time wriggling the doorknob. "Keith, please open the door. I've brought you some food."
"I'm not hungry…" His answer was muted and she thought she detected some pain.
"Honey, please, you have to eat."
"Please, Mom, I don't want to be
bothered."
Tears welled in her eyes as she pushed her forehead into the door, trying to pick up any clues as to his physical being. "Keith, are you in pain?"
"No! Please, just…go away. I'm all right!"
She nodded, setting the tray on the floor. "I'll leave this here for you. Please eat, honey. You need to keep your strength up."
Complete silence now emanated through the closed door and Shirley stood there for a moment, her hand on the doorknob, then she moved away, her heart aching.
****
The house was dark when Keith came in the back door, carrying a twelve-pack of beer, and he quietly shut the door behind him, pocketing his keys and heading for the stairs. He'd been craving alcohol lately, and since he couldn't exactly ask someone to get it for him, he'd turned to sneaking out at night for it. He felt a bit foolish, as if he were fourteen again and trying beer for the first time. Gordy, Skizzy and he had talked Gordy's older brother, Scott, into buying them a six pack and the three of them headed over to an empty field to drink it. They'd barely gotten a half a can each down them before they were sick, and Keith remembered very vividly throwing up into a junk pile of old metal and garden hoses. He was sick for hours after that, but didn't dare go home. He swore off the beer that day, not touching it again until he was of legal age, and even then he was hesitant about having one. Now, however, he needed it to take the edge off the pain, although the alcohol itself was worsening his symptoms. It was a catch-22; never ending, just like the pain was, now.
He was almost to his room when someone stepped out into the hallway. "Keith?" It was Danny.
Keith entered his darkened room, tossing the case onto his bed, nearly moaning out loud as he heard Danny follow him in. He put his hand over the light switch. "Go to bed, Danny."
"Are you okay, man?"
"I'm fine."
"Can we turn on a light, here?"
"No. Just get the hell out of here, okay?"
"Not before I see that you're all right," Danny pushed Keith's hand away from the switch, and the light came on.
Keith slumped down onto the bed, looking very ragged and disheveled. His hair was mussed, his eyes were sunken and his face was hollow and unshaven. Danny swallowed.
"My god, Keith, you look terrible!"
Keith closed his eyes. "Get…out of here." He was seething, but Danny wasn't moved.
"You've got to go to the doctor, man!"
"Dammit, I said get out! I don't need you worrying over me! I don't need anybody!" He was trying to keep his voice down, but it wasn't easy.
Danny looked at the beer case. "No, you
just need that," he said, nodding towards it. "Chris said you shouldn't be drinking."
"I don't care what Chris said!" Keith snapped.
"Want me to get him? I'll wake him up and you can tell him that yourself!" Danny shot back, reaching for the doorknob.
Keith leaped off the bed, grabbing Danny by the shirtfront and pushing his face into the red-head's. Danny was slightly bigger and stronger than Keith, but the anger coursing through him put Keith in control. "Leave him out of this! I know what I'm doing! If everybody would just leave me alone, I'll get through this! I don't need you worrying about me, and I sure as hell don't need anybody to tell me what's good or bad for me!"
"Then you should have stayed in Vegas, buddy, because we do worry about you, like it or not!" Danny glared right back at him.
Keith let go of Danny's shirt, pushing him away. There was silence for a while, then, his back to his brother, Keith hung his head. "Of all the people in this family, I thought you would be my ally. Chris is so busy playing doctor that he's on a whole other plane, and the girls, well…" he laughed emptily.
Danny put a hand on his shoulder. "I AM your ally, Keith. I just don't like seeing you like this. It scares me, man. I don't know what to do for you. What do you want me to do, Keith?"
Keith sighed heavily. "Just be there for me when I get this all together, 'cause, Danny, I am gonna need you."
Danny pulled him forward and they hugged long and hard.
****
Keith stared at his guitar from across the room as if it were a foreign object or something. The four beers he'd consumed this morning were working their magic on his brain, clouding his thoughts and giving him a strange mix of euphoria and depression.
Danny knocked on the door in the code they'd picked out and Keith could barely make it to his feet to let him in.
"Did you get it?" Keith said, his voice sounding distant in his own ears.
"Yeah, I got it." Danny produced a whiskey bottle from beneath his jacket. "Are you sure you want this? Let me look at you." He put his hand on Keith's forehead, tilting his head back as Keith shook him off, snatching the bottle from his brother's hand.
"I'm okay. Or I will be once I get this down."
Danny folded his arms, staring at him. "You're not taking your medication with the booze, are you?"
Keith was prying the lid off the bottle. "No. I haven't even seen the painkillers…" He completed his task and took a long drink from the bottle.
"Hey, not so much…save some for later. You're comin' to Mom's birthday supper, aren't you?" Danny took the whiskey from him and sat it on the nightstand.
Keith looked up. "Is that tonight?"
"Yeah." At the look on his brother's face, Danny smiled. "Don't worry, Chris and I bought her a really cool sweater and put your name on the card with ours."
Keith winced. His mother's birthday, and here he was…in this condition. "Oh, god, Danny, I don't know…"
"You've got to; it's Mom. She'll get suspicious if you don't come. Nobody's seen you since we got home, and I think it'll make her day." Danny leaned in closer. "I've been covering your butt for almost a week, now. I think it's time you made an appearance."
Keith swallowed. Danny was right; he'd been in hiding for too long. Not even Chris, the medical expert, had bothered him much, just enough to make sure he was still alive, he supposed. But Danny had been loyal; he hadn't told anyone about Keith's drinking, although he alluded to Keith that Chris himself had been downing a few beers without their mother's or sisters' knowledge, too. Keith knew why the young doctor-to-be was drinking. Looked like both of them had a big problem, and Danny was the only one who knew about it.
"I'll see how I feel." Keith imagined that he wouldn't be feeling very well, but that non-committal answer was enough to satisfy Danny.
He grinned. "Cool. Make sure you get cleaned up, inside and out. Try not to drink any more booze today, okay? You come in on your ear and they'll get you."
With a glance at the whiskey bottle nearby, Keith nodded wearily.
In his old room, Keith lay with his back to the door, on his left side, not quite sleeping, but drifting in and out. Pain blocked most of the sleep, but he was way too tired to get up and get a painkiller, so he suffered. The rest of his sleep was interrupted by various family members, peering in on him. Not that he could see them do it, but he heard the door open, pause and close again several times during the morning. Why didn't they just leave him alone? He craved rest; needed it so very badly, and their concern, curiosity, whatever it was that drew them to his door wasn't helping the cause.
As he closed his eyes, shuddering against another wave of pain that surged over him, he heard the door open again and he sat up, lashing out at the intruder, who this time turned out to be Laurie.
"What? What do you want?" he cried, suddenly wishing he hadn't moved so fast.
"Nothing, I…" Laurie was startled by this attack. "I was just checking on you."
Furious and frustrated, Keith clenched his fists. "I'm fine! Just leave me alone, okay? And tell everybody else to knock it off, too!"
Laurie nodded almost meekly. "Okay, sorry…"
She backed out of the room and he sat there, his chest heaving from the pain his angered move had caused. He pressed back into the headboard behind him, his eyes spilling a mixture of painful and angry tears. He didn't want to drive them away, but they didn't know what he was going through. They were healthy; they couldn't understand how bad the pain was, didn't know what it was like to face a slow and painful death.
He slid carefully out of the bed and reached over, locking the door. That would keep them out for a while; it would let them know he was serious. Pain rushed him and he fell against the door, sliding down to the carpet, where he huddled, unable to move for the moment and unwilling to cry out.
Everyone was gathered in the dining room, eating the brunch Shirley had prepared. Everyone but Keith, and Laurie, who came in looking flustered. "Somebody needs to talk to Keith!" she almost growled.
"Why? Where is he, anyway?" Shirley looked worried.
"He practically threw me out of his room. All I did was peek in on him and he hit the roof, telling me he was okay, and wanting everyone to leave him alone!" She pulled out a chair.
"We have to be patient with him, Laurie. He's got a lot on his mind right now. Things will settle for him soon and he'll get back to being the big brother we used to know," Chris told her. He and Danny had decided not to tell the women the whole story; how Keith was refusing any treatments, and just how sick he really was, mainly because Chris couldn't be certain himself. He only hoped that his brother would come to his senses and fight his disease.
"That's NOT a plus," Danny kidded.
Shirley sighed, taking her place at the table. "I suppose he won't be coming down to eat, will he?"
Laurie snorted. "Not after that outburst. It's probably better for all of us if he just stays in his little room."
Shirley shook her head sadly.
****
Keith's door was locked; not really surprising, but it worried Shirley as she stood in the hallway with a tray of food from the brunch for him. She was almost afraid to knock. "Keith?" she called, gently tapping on the door
.
There was no answer; what if he was asleep? Worse yet, what if he was in pain and couldn't GET to the door to open it. She swallowed back her worry, and tried again, this time wriggling the doorknob. "Keith, please open the door. I've brought you some food."
"I'm not hungry…" His answer was muted and she thought she detected some pain.
"Honey, please, you have to eat."
"Please, Mom, I don't want to be
bothered."
Tears welled in her eyes as she pushed her forehead into the door, trying to pick up any clues as to his physical being. "Keith, are you in pain?"
"No! Please, just…go away. I'm all right!"
She nodded, setting the tray on the floor. "I'll leave this here for you. Please eat, honey. You need to keep your strength up."
Complete silence now emanated through the closed door and Shirley stood there for a moment, her hand on the doorknob, then she moved away, her heart aching.
****
The house was dark when Keith came in the back door, carrying a twelve-pack of beer, and he quietly shut the door behind him, pocketing his keys and heading for the stairs. He'd been craving alcohol lately, and since he couldn't exactly ask someone to get it for him, he'd turned to sneaking out at night for it. He felt a bit foolish, as if he were fourteen again and trying beer for the first time. Gordy, Skizzy and he had talked Gordy's older brother, Scott, into buying them a six pack and the three of them headed over to an empty field to drink it. They'd barely gotten a half a can each down them before they were sick, and Keith remembered very vividly throwing up into a junk pile of old metal and garden hoses. He was sick for hours after that, but didn't dare go home. He swore off the beer that day, not touching it again until he was of legal age, and even then he was hesitant about having one. Now, however, he needed it to take the edge off the pain, although the alcohol itself was worsening his symptoms. It was a catch-22; never ending, just like the pain was, now.
He was almost to his room when someone stepped out into the hallway. "Keith?" It was Danny.
Keith entered his darkened room, tossing the case onto his bed, nearly moaning out loud as he heard Danny follow him in. He put his hand over the light switch. "Go to bed, Danny."
"Are you okay, man?"
"I'm fine."
"Can we turn on a light, here?"
"No. Just get the hell out of here, okay?"
"Not before I see that you're all right," Danny pushed Keith's hand away from the switch, and the light came on.
Keith slumped down onto the bed, looking very ragged and disheveled. His hair was mussed, his eyes were sunken and his face was hollow and unshaven. Danny swallowed.
"My god, Keith, you look terrible!"
Keith closed his eyes. "Get…out of here." He was seething, but Danny wasn't moved.
"You've got to go to the doctor, man!"
"Dammit, I said get out! I don't need you worrying over me! I don't need anybody!" He was trying to keep his voice down, but it wasn't easy.
Danny looked at the beer case. "No, you
just need that," he said, nodding towards it. "Chris said you shouldn't be drinking."
"I don't care what Chris said!" Keith snapped.
"Want me to get him? I'll wake him up and you can tell him that yourself!" Danny shot back, reaching for the doorknob.
Keith leaped off the bed, grabbing Danny by the shirtfront and pushing his face into the red-head's. Danny was slightly bigger and stronger than Keith, but the anger coursing through him put Keith in control. "Leave him out of this! I know what I'm doing! If everybody would just leave me alone, I'll get through this! I don't need you worrying about me, and I sure as hell don't need anybody to tell me what's good or bad for me!"
"Then you should have stayed in Vegas, buddy, because we do worry about you, like it or not!" Danny glared right back at him.
Keith let go of Danny's shirt, pushing him away. There was silence for a while, then, his back to his brother, Keith hung his head. "Of all the people in this family, I thought you would be my ally. Chris is so busy playing doctor that he's on a whole other plane, and the girls, well…" he laughed emptily.
Danny put a hand on his shoulder. "I AM your ally, Keith. I just don't like seeing you like this. It scares me, man. I don't know what to do for you. What do you want me to do, Keith?"
Keith sighed heavily. "Just be there for me when I get this all together, 'cause, Danny, I am gonna need you."
Danny pulled him forward and they hugged long and hard.
****
Keith stared at his guitar from across the room as if it were a foreign object or something. The four beers he'd consumed this morning were working their magic on his brain, clouding his thoughts and giving him a strange mix of euphoria and depression.
Danny knocked on the door in the code they'd picked out and Keith could barely make it to his feet to let him in.
"Did you get it?" Keith said, his voice sounding distant in his own ears.
"Yeah, I got it." Danny produced a whiskey bottle from beneath his jacket. "Are you sure you want this? Let me look at you." He put his hand on Keith's forehead, tilting his head back as Keith shook him off, snatching the bottle from his brother's hand.
"I'm okay. Or I will be once I get this down."
Danny folded his arms, staring at him. "You're not taking your medication with the booze, are you?"
Keith was prying the lid off the bottle. "No. I haven't even seen the painkillers…" He completed his task and took a long drink from the bottle.
"Hey, not so much…save some for later. You're comin' to Mom's birthday supper, aren't you?" Danny took the whiskey from him and sat it on the nightstand.
Keith looked up. "Is that tonight?"
"Yeah." At the look on his brother's face, Danny smiled. "Don't worry, Chris and I bought her a really cool sweater and put your name on the card with ours."
Keith winced. His mother's birthday, and here he was…in this condition. "Oh, god, Danny, I don't know…"
"You've got to; it's Mom. She'll get suspicious if you don't come. Nobody's seen you since we got home, and I think it'll make her day." Danny leaned in closer. "I've been covering your butt for almost a week, now. I think it's time you made an appearance."
Keith swallowed. Danny was right; he'd been in hiding for too long. Not even Chris, the medical expert, had bothered him much, just enough to make sure he was still alive, he supposed. But Danny had been loyal; he hadn't told anyone about Keith's drinking, although he alluded to Keith that Chris himself had been downing a few beers without their mother's or sisters' knowledge, too. Keith knew why the young doctor-to-be was drinking. Looked like both of them had a big problem, and Danny was the only one who knew about it.
"I'll see how I feel." Keith imagined that he wouldn't be feeling very well, but that non-committal answer was enough to satisfy Danny.
He grinned. "Cool. Make sure you get cleaned up, inside and out. Try not to drink any more booze today, okay? You come in on your ear and they'll get you."
With a glance at the whiskey bottle nearby, Keith nodded wearily.