Jeff wiped his bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes with the heels of his hands. He
sighed shakily, ready to start crying again at any given moment. Ashamed
at how he had cried like a baby in front of perfect strangers, he tried
desperately to regain his composure. He stalked over to the nurse's
station and cleared his throat. "I'd like," His voice came out hoarse and
tired. "I'd like ta see me mudda if dat's at awl possible."
The nurse looked up at him as if he had asked for the moon. She sighed and moved around some papers. "Name?"
"Emily Jefferson."
She ran her finger down a list and came up with a room number. "She's unavailable. According to my sheet she's still in labor."
Jeff's eyebrows shot up. "What?"
The nurse checked her list again. "Emily Jefferson...she'll be in room 8-A when she's 'done', but until then, you'll just hafta wait okay?"
Jeff glared at the top of the nurse's head as she bent back over her work. He turned, furious again and marched to the emergency room nearest him: surgery. He went down the hall to the next one: more surgery.
Next one: a drunk man getting his shoulder put back into place, having thrown it out in a bar fight most likely.
The last one on the hall: Jeff walked to the edge of the door and barely peeked in, expecting nothing, then whirled and went back down the corridor. /Wait a second.../ His mind finally registering what was in the last room, he turned on his heels and ran back the other way. He burst through the doors. "Mom?" The word caught in his throat and caused his voice to crack.
His mother's pale face stood out against the starched pillows, gaunt and tired. Her hair stuck to her sweaty face in thick clumps.
Jeff felt as if he had swallowed a cobra and now it was wrapping itself around his heart. He swallowed thickly and stepped closer, ignoring the doctors and nurses who were milling about around him. He clutched her hand as soon as he got close enough.
"Hello Jeffery."
He smiled lopsidedly. "Heya Ma, youse doin' okay? Doctor's gotcha fixed up all nice? Takin' good care 'a ya?"
She nodded, her eyes darting behind him just as he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Excuse me sir, you're not supposed to be back here, and I believe Mrs. Barracks was looking for you."
Jeff, feeling very submissive, nodded and kissed his mother's hand. "I'll be back Ma."
She waved to him weakly and watched him disappear out the door.
-----
Jeff slammed his hands down on the counter and suppressed a smile as the nurse jumped in surprise. "Youse wanted ta see me Mrs. Barracks?"
"Yes, we need to run some tests on you. And your mother too actually, but that'll be taken care of in due time." She stood, looking at her sheet. "Come with me."
Jeff followed her nervously down the hall, resisting the urge to peer into the doorways, especially when he heard noises he didn't like. /Tests?/
-----
Mrs. Barracks motioned for Jeff to remove his shirt and sit on the paper- covered counter that stood in the middle of the room.
He pulled himself onto the edge and shivered.
Mrs. Barracks turned to him, holding a stubby pencil in her hand. "I'm going to ask you a few questions alright?"
He nodded, rubbing his arms.
"Have you experienced any of the following in the past few months: vomiting?"
Jeff shook his head.
"Muscle cramps or severe thirst?"
Jeff thought for a second, sticking his lower lip out and blowing his hair out of his eyes. "No, and yes."
Mrs. Barracks nodded and scribbled something on her paper. "Profuse diarrhea?"
Jeff froze, wanting to laugh. He bit his lip and shook his head again.
"Fatigue, loss of weight or appetite?"
"No."
"Night sweats or fever?"
"Night sweats? Ya mean like—"
"No, Jeff, I mean when you break out in a sweat in your sleep for no reason."
"Oh...no."
Mrs. Barracks rolled her eyes and mumbled something about 'kids these days.' "Persistent cough?"
"Nah." He suddenly wondered why she had had him take off his shirt.
"Alright then, now I'm going to need to draw some blood." Jeff felt faint. "What?" He asked, his voice cracking. /Needles is da las' t'ing ya needs ta be worryin' 'bout right now Jeffy-boy./ He cleared his throat and began taking deep breaths as she prepared the syringe. "Is dis really necessary?"
Mrs. Barracks spoke without looking at him. "I wouldn't be doing it if it weren't. Consumption's contagious you know." She glanced at him for a moment. "We need to make sure it didn't infect you two as well." She told him in a softer voice. She tied off the upper part of his arm with a piece of cloth she had handy and inserted the needle.
Jeff tried to force himself to watch, but found he couldn't without feeling the need to vomit. He shut his eyes tight and turned away, clenching his teeth until he heard her say that she was done. He touched the spot where she had inserted the needle and shuddered, the hair on his arms standing on end. He felt weak, and wanted to lie down, but knew he didn't have time for it.
Mrs. Barracks threw test after test at him, but 45 minutes later, she was finally done. She opened the door and turned, her hand still on the knob. "I'm taking these down the hall to be analyzed. I'll be back in a minute, don't move."
Jeff gave her his best innocent smile, watching her leave before putting his shirt back on and peeking out the door. /No one in sight./ He grinned to himself, then slipped down to the emergency ward.
-----
"Mom?" Jeff stopped in the doorway, gazing across the room at the empty bed. Not wanting to get caught, he quietly backed out the door and headed for the stairs. Once on the eighth floor, heart racing and blood pounding, he managed to find 8-A without any help. He knocked softly on the door.
"Ma? It's Jeffery." He smiled. "Ma?" The door opened with a loud creak. He winced and glanced down the empty hallway, just in case anyone had heard him. /Whew./ He pushed the door open the rest of the way and crept into the darkened room. He shut it behind him and padded across the floor, gazing cautiously at the small frame in the large bed that lay before him.
"Ma?" He called out, his voice catching in his throat. The body in the bed stirred slightly. He approached the edge and gazed down at his mother's face, hidden in shadow. He swallowed and circled her bed, ending up in a chair opposite the door.
"Nice room." He remarked, gaping at the small surroundings. "Ma, I gotta tawk ta ya...Lucy's real sick. She's got...she's got consumption—" Jeff stopped, afraid his throat might close on his words. He coughed and fought down his accent.
"She's got consumption, and the doctors think we might have it too, seeing as how we've all been in the same house...I'm not even supposed to be here." He admitted, smiling to himself. He looked down at his hands and twiddled his thumbs, watching his slim fingers twirl round one another.
"I'm gonna go ahead and go back now...Mrs. Barracks'll be mad if she can't find me again." He lifted his mother's pale hand and kissed it gently. "Sorry I couldn't stay longah, but I'll be back Ma. Trust me, I'll be back."
Jeff slid back into his room just before Mrs. Barracks showed up again. He breathed a mental sigh of relief.
"Mr. Jefferson?" She looked up at him from her sheet as she entered the door. "Do you want the good ne—"
"Jus' tell me." He said flatly, his hands gripping the edge of the table.
She swallowed hard, as if afraid of telling him. She gazed up at his solemn face, his mouth in a straight line, his eye filled with pain, and sent his world crashing down around him. "We...we don't expect Lucy to survive the night." She said slowly carefully choosing her words. "In fact, we're surprised she's lasted /this/ long." She paused for a second, letting him digest the news. "We ran some tests on your blood sample."
Jeff shuddered involuntarily.
"And we've discovered that you /do/ in fact have signs of consumption." She inhaled sharply. "Be/cause/ it's merely in the beginning stages, we believe that we can treat it...your /mother/ on the other hand."
Jeff shut his eyes tight and lifted his chin to the ceiling.
"The birth was hard enough on her, but that added to the consumption...it just about wiped her out. Now, we're going to do all we can for you."
/There's nothin' you can do for me now.../
"I'm going to go check on your mother." She said awkwardly after a moment of silence.
He heard the door click closed once again and opened his eyes, tears automatically falling from the corners and tracing sparkling trails down his high cheekbones. His grip increased on the table's edge and he felt strength surge through him, feeling suddenly strong enough to rip the room apart with his hands. He blinked numerous times, tried to hold back the tears, but they refused to stop.
/"Let'em out Jeffery it's okay to cry."/ His mother's soft voice circled 'round in his head, causing even more tears to spill. He relaxed his embrace of the counter and lay on his side, drawing his legs up into a fetal position. The paper beneath him crackled nosily to his annoyance.
/I don't understand...what did I do God? Maybe I should listened bettah in church...Please, if you're gonna take 'em away from me, can ya.../ He shut his eyes tight again, holding back the sob that welled up in his throat. /Can ya at least help me out? Help me deal or sumptin'?/
The sob broke through and shook his body, followed by another, then another. He was now crying heavily into his sleeves.
The nurse looked up at him as if he had asked for the moon. She sighed and moved around some papers. "Name?"
"Emily Jefferson."
She ran her finger down a list and came up with a room number. "She's unavailable. According to my sheet she's still in labor."
Jeff's eyebrows shot up. "What?"
The nurse checked her list again. "Emily Jefferson...she'll be in room 8-A when she's 'done', but until then, you'll just hafta wait okay?"
Jeff glared at the top of the nurse's head as she bent back over her work. He turned, furious again and marched to the emergency room nearest him: surgery. He went down the hall to the next one: more surgery.
Next one: a drunk man getting his shoulder put back into place, having thrown it out in a bar fight most likely.
The last one on the hall: Jeff walked to the edge of the door and barely peeked in, expecting nothing, then whirled and went back down the corridor. /Wait a second.../ His mind finally registering what was in the last room, he turned on his heels and ran back the other way. He burst through the doors. "Mom?" The word caught in his throat and caused his voice to crack.
His mother's pale face stood out against the starched pillows, gaunt and tired. Her hair stuck to her sweaty face in thick clumps.
Jeff felt as if he had swallowed a cobra and now it was wrapping itself around his heart. He swallowed thickly and stepped closer, ignoring the doctors and nurses who were milling about around him. He clutched her hand as soon as he got close enough.
"Hello Jeffery."
He smiled lopsidedly. "Heya Ma, youse doin' okay? Doctor's gotcha fixed up all nice? Takin' good care 'a ya?"
She nodded, her eyes darting behind him just as he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Excuse me sir, you're not supposed to be back here, and I believe Mrs. Barracks was looking for you."
Jeff, feeling very submissive, nodded and kissed his mother's hand. "I'll be back Ma."
She waved to him weakly and watched him disappear out the door.
-----
Jeff slammed his hands down on the counter and suppressed a smile as the nurse jumped in surprise. "Youse wanted ta see me Mrs. Barracks?"
"Yes, we need to run some tests on you. And your mother too actually, but that'll be taken care of in due time." She stood, looking at her sheet. "Come with me."
Jeff followed her nervously down the hall, resisting the urge to peer into the doorways, especially when he heard noises he didn't like. /Tests?/
-----
Mrs. Barracks motioned for Jeff to remove his shirt and sit on the paper- covered counter that stood in the middle of the room.
He pulled himself onto the edge and shivered.
Mrs. Barracks turned to him, holding a stubby pencil in her hand. "I'm going to ask you a few questions alright?"
He nodded, rubbing his arms.
"Have you experienced any of the following in the past few months: vomiting?"
Jeff shook his head.
"Muscle cramps or severe thirst?"
Jeff thought for a second, sticking his lower lip out and blowing his hair out of his eyes. "No, and yes."
Mrs. Barracks nodded and scribbled something on her paper. "Profuse diarrhea?"
Jeff froze, wanting to laugh. He bit his lip and shook his head again.
"Fatigue, loss of weight or appetite?"
"No."
"Night sweats or fever?"
"Night sweats? Ya mean like—"
"No, Jeff, I mean when you break out in a sweat in your sleep for no reason."
"Oh...no."
Mrs. Barracks rolled her eyes and mumbled something about 'kids these days.' "Persistent cough?"
"Nah." He suddenly wondered why she had had him take off his shirt.
"Alright then, now I'm going to need to draw some blood." Jeff felt faint. "What?" He asked, his voice cracking. /Needles is da las' t'ing ya needs ta be worryin' 'bout right now Jeffy-boy./ He cleared his throat and began taking deep breaths as she prepared the syringe. "Is dis really necessary?"
Mrs. Barracks spoke without looking at him. "I wouldn't be doing it if it weren't. Consumption's contagious you know." She glanced at him for a moment. "We need to make sure it didn't infect you two as well." She told him in a softer voice. She tied off the upper part of his arm with a piece of cloth she had handy and inserted the needle.
Jeff tried to force himself to watch, but found he couldn't without feeling the need to vomit. He shut his eyes tight and turned away, clenching his teeth until he heard her say that she was done. He touched the spot where she had inserted the needle and shuddered, the hair on his arms standing on end. He felt weak, and wanted to lie down, but knew he didn't have time for it.
Mrs. Barracks threw test after test at him, but 45 minutes later, she was finally done. She opened the door and turned, her hand still on the knob. "I'm taking these down the hall to be analyzed. I'll be back in a minute, don't move."
Jeff gave her his best innocent smile, watching her leave before putting his shirt back on and peeking out the door. /No one in sight./ He grinned to himself, then slipped down to the emergency ward.
-----
"Mom?" Jeff stopped in the doorway, gazing across the room at the empty bed. Not wanting to get caught, he quietly backed out the door and headed for the stairs. Once on the eighth floor, heart racing and blood pounding, he managed to find 8-A without any help. He knocked softly on the door.
"Ma? It's Jeffery." He smiled. "Ma?" The door opened with a loud creak. He winced and glanced down the empty hallway, just in case anyone had heard him. /Whew./ He pushed the door open the rest of the way and crept into the darkened room. He shut it behind him and padded across the floor, gazing cautiously at the small frame in the large bed that lay before him.
"Ma?" He called out, his voice catching in his throat. The body in the bed stirred slightly. He approached the edge and gazed down at his mother's face, hidden in shadow. He swallowed and circled her bed, ending up in a chair opposite the door.
"Nice room." He remarked, gaping at the small surroundings. "Ma, I gotta tawk ta ya...Lucy's real sick. She's got...she's got consumption—" Jeff stopped, afraid his throat might close on his words. He coughed and fought down his accent.
"She's got consumption, and the doctors think we might have it too, seeing as how we've all been in the same house...I'm not even supposed to be here." He admitted, smiling to himself. He looked down at his hands and twiddled his thumbs, watching his slim fingers twirl round one another.
"I'm gonna go ahead and go back now...Mrs. Barracks'll be mad if she can't find me again." He lifted his mother's pale hand and kissed it gently. "Sorry I couldn't stay longah, but I'll be back Ma. Trust me, I'll be back."
Jeff slid back into his room just before Mrs. Barracks showed up again. He breathed a mental sigh of relief.
"Mr. Jefferson?" She looked up at him from her sheet as she entered the door. "Do you want the good ne—"
"Jus' tell me." He said flatly, his hands gripping the edge of the table.
She swallowed hard, as if afraid of telling him. She gazed up at his solemn face, his mouth in a straight line, his eye filled with pain, and sent his world crashing down around him. "We...we don't expect Lucy to survive the night." She said slowly carefully choosing her words. "In fact, we're surprised she's lasted /this/ long." She paused for a second, letting him digest the news. "We ran some tests on your blood sample."
Jeff shuddered involuntarily.
"And we've discovered that you /do/ in fact have signs of consumption." She inhaled sharply. "Be/cause/ it's merely in the beginning stages, we believe that we can treat it...your /mother/ on the other hand."
Jeff shut his eyes tight and lifted his chin to the ceiling.
"The birth was hard enough on her, but that added to the consumption...it just about wiped her out. Now, we're going to do all we can for you."
/There's nothin' you can do for me now.../
"I'm going to go check on your mother." She said awkwardly after a moment of silence.
He heard the door click closed once again and opened his eyes, tears automatically falling from the corners and tracing sparkling trails down his high cheekbones. His grip increased on the table's edge and he felt strength surge through him, feeling suddenly strong enough to rip the room apart with his hands. He blinked numerous times, tried to hold back the tears, but they refused to stop.
/"Let'em out Jeffery it's okay to cry."/ His mother's soft voice circled 'round in his head, causing even more tears to spill. He relaxed his embrace of the counter and lay on his side, drawing his legs up into a fetal position. The paper beneath him crackled nosily to his annoyance.
/I don't understand...what did I do God? Maybe I should listened bettah in church...Please, if you're gonna take 'em away from me, can ya.../ He shut his eyes tight again, holding back the sob that welled up in his throat. /Can ya at least help me out? Help me deal or sumptin'?/
The sob broke through and shook his body, followed by another, then another. He was now crying heavily into his sleeves.