It was the longest night of Dee's entire life.
The chairs in the waiting room were cracked and old, the magazines were cracked and old. Even the people waiting there with them looked cracked and old and worn. Off to the side an aquarium bubbled, an attempt to calm the frazzled nerves of people stuck here in this limbo, waiting to see if they had a reason to celebrate or mourn. Since two blue fish were currently floating at the top of the water, it was hardly reassuring.
Several hours ago, the Lopez family had gotten their reason to celebrate. Rosa's wound, although deep, wasn't life-threatening and she was already awake, if groggy, and asking if her brothers were okay and to see her Mama and Papa.
But there was no word yet on Bikky, other that he was still in surgery, and still clinging to life.
The knife had perforated his liver, and he'd lost a considerable amount of blood. And of course, Bikky just had to be obstinate even in that and have a blood type of B-, which was pretty rare. The only other blood type he could receive besides his own was O-, which was even rarer. They'd been lucky to find enough to stabilize him, but just barely.
Dee doubted the young man had even known at first it was Rosa whose life he was saving. He just saw someone in trouble and ran to help. They'd trained him well. Too well. He sank back into the chair next to Ryo, who was pale as an eggshell and staring off into space.
Mrs. O'Reilley, a neighbor in their building, was keeping the boys for them right now. She'd known Bikky since he was in his teens and begged them to let her know how he was doing.
Cal was in another chair, her knees drawn up against her chest and her shirt falling over them. Her eyes were closed tightly, and several times Dee thought she was asleep, but every time the door opened she sat up with a start. She looked far younger than someone a few years on the good side of 30, younger than Dee could ever remember seeing her. She had waved away both his offers of comfort and his questions about how her discussion with Bikky earlier had gone. Not well, he guessed, by the fact that Bikky was out rollerblading around the city instead of snuggled up with her in bed. They must have fought again, and the pain of that was eating her alive.
It was after midnight when they finally received word that Bikky had made it through the surgery. His condition was still critical, though, and they cautioned that in the next few hours he could go either way.
"May we see him?" Cal asked softly.
"Are you a member of his family?"
"You better believe she is." Ryo spoke in a soft tone I'd never heard before.
"Only for a few minutes." The doctor said at last. "We have a breathing tube in him so he won't be able to speak. He's opened his eyes a few times but hasn't been responsive otherwise."
Understanding what I did about hospital procedure, it hit me hard that the only reason he was letting us in tonight to see Bikky without a fight was that he truly thought he might not make it.
He obviously didn't know our boy.
He led us down the hall, like every other hospital corridor in the world, with the sounds of carts being pushed and doctors being paged, and the smells of medicine and rubbing alcohol. I heard a baby crying in the distance, and someone trying to calm it down, and only Ryo's hand in mine kept me sane. Cal was walking behind us a bit, and every time I tried to slow for her to catch up, she fell back more. It confused me at first and angered me, wondering how she could act like this when Bikky's life was still in danger, and then I remembered her father. We'd brought her to the prison hospital when he had finally succumbed to cancer. The memories had to be coming up now. She hadn't acted like this when visiting Fernando and Miguel, but this was pretty different.
He looked like something you'd see on ER, with machines all around him, monitoring him, keeping him alive. They had a bandage over his head where they'd stitched him up and IV's in both hands. The breathing tube was taped to his mouth, and his hair was a golden halo on the pillow, which seem blinding next to his skin. Like Cal, he looked way too damn young.
Ryo reached out to touch his hand, and his blue eyes opened, looking confused.
"It's okay, Bikky. Just relax. You're in the hospital. You've been stabbed." He reached out and stroked our son's hair gently.
Around the breathing tube his lips moved.
"Don't try and talk yet." I cautioned him, and he frowned at me and formed the word again.
"Rosa is okay." Ryo understood what he was asking. "Luckily a hero showed up and saved her in the nick of time. The Lopez family still has a daughter because of you."
His eyes closed for a minute, then reopened, focusing on Cal, and his lips moved again.
"He says he's sorry." Ryo translated.
With a sob she moved forward, kissing Bikky on the head below his bandages. "No, no, I'm sorry. We'll talk all you want when you get out of here. We'll work it out, I promise. Do you know how scared I've been? I thought I was going to lose you."
He managed a slight shake of his head, and tried to smile, but gave up finally. A minute later he was asleep again, and the doctor was ushering us out.
"Ryo?" I asked, and he jumped, as if he'd never heard the name before. "Will you and Cal be okay a couple of minutes? Something I've gotta do."
"Sure." He didn't ask what and I didn't volunteer. I pulled him close for a second, wanting to tell him it was all going to be okay but not knowing if it really was. This time, Cal allowed me to hug her as well.
I don't know what kind of blood I have in my veins, could be anything. But working undercover I'd been able to pass myself as Spanish more than once, and tonight I did it again, cornering a nurse and explaining in worried half-English how my young niece Rosa Lopez had been brought in and I needed to see her right away. She didn't doubt me for a moment and soon I had a room number.
Her mother was leaving the room as I arrived. I'd met her before once when Rosa had taken the job. Both of her parents insisted on meeting us before letting their daughter spend her days in our apartment. I was sure they were going to pitch a fit about her babysitting for a same-sex couple, being pretty devout Catholics, but any men that were more interested in seducing each other than their innocent young daughter were okay in the Lopez' book.
Mrs. Lopez hugged me tightly and asked about Bikky. She was almost as shaken up about him as she was about Rosa, and kept repeating over and over what a hero the brat was, and how they'd never be able to repay him for what he'd done for them tonight.
"Mrs. Lopez, I actually came here to ask you something." I tried not to flush with embarrassment. "I was raised in a Catholic orphanage, and I was wondering. do you happen to have a rosary I can borrow?"
"Of course." She dug in her purse and pulled out the string of beads. "We'll pray together for your boy."
We weren't sure where the chapel was, so we just knelt down right there on the floor together, ignoring the odd looks the nurses were giving us, and although I thought I'd forgotten the words, they flowed back now. Mine in English, Mrs. Lopez' in Spanish. The sounds of the hospital around me faded away, and all I could hear was the chanting and all I could feel was the calloused tips of the woman's fingers against mine.
Someone knelt next to me, and somehow I wasn't surprised that it was Ryo, and I could see Cal kneeling down as well next to Rosa's mother. I realized I must have been gone a long time for Ryo to come looking for me, and started to apologize, but he waved it away, and two more sets of hands joined mine on the beads.
Cal and Ryo stumbled over the words at first, and Mrs. Lopez and I guided them. I didn't know if there was anyone outside of the hospital to hear us, if it would ever do anyone any good but those of us on the floor, but for just a little while I needed to believe in something bigger than I was, and stronger than I was. Something strong enough to save Bikky's life.
Merciful enough not to take him away from us.
The chairs in the waiting room were cracked and old, the magazines were cracked and old. Even the people waiting there with them looked cracked and old and worn. Off to the side an aquarium bubbled, an attempt to calm the frazzled nerves of people stuck here in this limbo, waiting to see if they had a reason to celebrate or mourn. Since two blue fish were currently floating at the top of the water, it was hardly reassuring.
Several hours ago, the Lopez family had gotten their reason to celebrate. Rosa's wound, although deep, wasn't life-threatening and she was already awake, if groggy, and asking if her brothers were okay and to see her Mama and Papa.
But there was no word yet on Bikky, other that he was still in surgery, and still clinging to life.
The knife had perforated his liver, and he'd lost a considerable amount of blood. And of course, Bikky just had to be obstinate even in that and have a blood type of B-, which was pretty rare. The only other blood type he could receive besides his own was O-, which was even rarer. They'd been lucky to find enough to stabilize him, but just barely.
Dee doubted the young man had even known at first it was Rosa whose life he was saving. He just saw someone in trouble and ran to help. They'd trained him well. Too well. He sank back into the chair next to Ryo, who was pale as an eggshell and staring off into space.
Mrs. O'Reilley, a neighbor in their building, was keeping the boys for them right now. She'd known Bikky since he was in his teens and begged them to let her know how he was doing.
Cal was in another chair, her knees drawn up against her chest and her shirt falling over them. Her eyes were closed tightly, and several times Dee thought she was asleep, but every time the door opened she sat up with a start. She looked far younger than someone a few years on the good side of 30, younger than Dee could ever remember seeing her. She had waved away both his offers of comfort and his questions about how her discussion with Bikky earlier had gone. Not well, he guessed, by the fact that Bikky was out rollerblading around the city instead of snuggled up with her in bed. They must have fought again, and the pain of that was eating her alive.
It was after midnight when they finally received word that Bikky had made it through the surgery. His condition was still critical, though, and they cautioned that in the next few hours he could go either way.
"May we see him?" Cal asked softly.
"Are you a member of his family?"
"You better believe she is." Ryo spoke in a soft tone I'd never heard before.
"Only for a few minutes." The doctor said at last. "We have a breathing tube in him so he won't be able to speak. He's opened his eyes a few times but hasn't been responsive otherwise."
Understanding what I did about hospital procedure, it hit me hard that the only reason he was letting us in tonight to see Bikky without a fight was that he truly thought he might not make it.
He obviously didn't know our boy.
He led us down the hall, like every other hospital corridor in the world, with the sounds of carts being pushed and doctors being paged, and the smells of medicine and rubbing alcohol. I heard a baby crying in the distance, and someone trying to calm it down, and only Ryo's hand in mine kept me sane. Cal was walking behind us a bit, and every time I tried to slow for her to catch up, she fell back more. It confused me at first and angered me, wondering how she could act like this when Bikky's life was still in danger, and then I remembered her father. We'd brought her to the prison hospital when he had finally succumbed to cancer. The memories had to be coming up now. She hadn't acted like this when visiting Fernando and Miguel, but this was pretty different.
He looked like something you'd see on ER, with machines all around him, monitoring him, keeping him alive. They had a bandage over his head where they'd stitched him up and IV's in both hands. The breathing tube was taped to his mouth, and his hair was a golden halo on the pillow, which seem blinding next to his skin. Like Cal, he looked way too damn young.
Ryo reached out to touch his hand, and his blue eyes opened, looking confused.
"It's okay, Bikky. Just relax. You're in the hospital. You've been stabbed." He reached out and stroked our son's hair gently.
Around the breathing tube his lips moved.
"Don't try and talk yet." I cautioned him, and he frowned at me and formed the word again.
"Rosa is okay." Ryo understood what he was asking. "Luckily a hero showed up and saved her in the nick of time. The Lopez family still has a daughter because of you."
His eyes closed for a minute, then reopened, focusing on Cal, and his lips moved again.
"He says he's sorry." Ryo translated.
With a sob she moved forward, kissing Bikky on the head below his bandages. "No, no, I'm sorry. We'll talk all you want when you get out of here. We'll work it out, I promise. Do you know how scared I've been? I thought I was going to lose you."
He managed a slight shake of his head, and tried to smile, but gave up finally. A minute later he was asleep again, and the doctor was ushering us out.
"Ryo?" I asked, and he jumped, as if he'd never heard the name before. "Will you and Cal be okay a couple of minutes? Something I've gotta do."
"Sure." He didn't ask what and I didn't volunteer. I pulled him close for a second, wanting to tell him it was all going to be okay but not knowing if it really was. This time, Cal allowed me to hug her as well.
I don't know what kind of blood I have in my veins, could be anything. But working undercover I'd been able to pass myself as Spanish more than once, and tonight I did it again, cornering a nurse and explaining in worried half-English how my young niece Rosa Lopez had been brought in and I needed to see her right away. She didn't doubt me for a moment and soon I had a room number.
Her mother was leaving the room as I arrived. I'd met her before once when Rosa had taken the job. Both of her parents insisted on meeting us before letting their daughter spend her days in our apartment. I was sure they were going to pitch a fit about her babysitting for a same-sex couple, being pretty devout Catholics, but any men that were more interested in seducing each other than their innocent young daughter were okay in the Lopez' book.
Mrs. Lopez hugged me tightly and asked about Bikky. She was almost as shaken up about him as she was about Rosa, and kept repeating over and over what a hero the brat was, and how they'd never be able to repay him for what he'd done for them tonight.
"Mrs. Lopez, I actually came here to ask you something." I tried not to flush with embarrassment. "I was raised in a Catholic orphanage, and I was wondering. do you happen to have a rosary I can borrow?"
"Of course." She dug in her purse and pulled out the string of beads. "We'll pray together for your boy."
We weren't sure where the chapel was, so we just knelt down right there on the floor together, ignoring the odd looks the nurses were giving us, and although I thought I'd forgotten the words, they flowed back now. Mine in English, Mrs. Lopez' in Spanish. The sounds of the hospital around me faded away, and all I could hear was the chanting and all I could feel was the calloused tips of the woman's fingers against mine.
Someone knelt next to me, and somehow I wasn't surprised that it was Ryo, and I could see Cal kneeling down as well next to Rosa's mother. I realized I must have been gone a long time for Ryo to come looking for me, and started to apologize, but he waved it away, and two more sets of hands joined mine on the beads.
Cal and Ryo stumbled over the words at first, and Mrs. Lopez and I guided them. I didn't know if there was anyone outside of the hospital to hear us, if it would ever do anyone any good but those of us on the floor, but for just a little while I needed to believe in something bigger than I was, and stronger than I was. Something strong enough to save Bikky's life.
Merciful enough not to take him away from us.