So, I went to Petsmart and got a better beta betta. I wanted to name him
"Wallace" (tm crimsonclad, "Refract") but I've decided to name him "ghoti".
This makes absolutely no sense, but do you guys really read this part
anyway?
Yeah, yeah, same story, same legal stuff.
Chapter Twenty-five.
Ryan yawned and stretched. He blinked a few times as he took in his surroundings. It was so quiet. He shrugged of the thick blankets that kept him warm. He noticed a large window and pushed himself from the bed. He steps were slow and unsteady. His brain was foggy. Pulling back the heavy curtains, he looked out the window and into the dark skies. The stars had stopped sparkling and the night sky was painted in the blue black shade of beckoning slumber. He let go of the curtains and shuffled back to bed. He was still tired. He curled under the blankets and let sleep carry him away. The sun would be out tomorrow.
* *
That evening, Sandy, Kirsten, Seth and Caleb sat in the living room of the beach house playing cards. Sandy was losing badly. He was a lawyer... How could he be losing a game of "Bullshit"? He remembered the night Kirsten dragged him to see the movie "How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days." He had protested all the way to the Cineplex. Two good things came out of that night. First, he spent a great deal of time picturing Kirsten in the pale yellow dress that what's her name was wearing, and second, it brought back memories of the card game he'd played with his buddies at Berkeley. They'd play for quarters and Sandy played well enough to keep him in Kraft Dinner, Mr. Noodles and visits to the Laundromat during his last year of law school.
He stared at his growing pile of cards. Kirsten and Caleb were going head to head during this round. They were a lot alike, Sandy mused to himself. Hardworking, driven, and when they loved, they loved with an intense passion. Caleb loved his wife, and when she passed away, he never allowed himself to love another woman. When Kirsten and Sandy fell in love, he never doubted that Kirsten could or would be swayed by Caleb's threats. Sandy felt badly he caused the rift between them that lasted several years, but part of the rift was caused by the stubbornness that father and daughter shared.
When Caleb had called Kirsten to tell her how sick her mom really was, Sandy and Kirsten made the decision together to move back to Newport Beach. They were ensconced in a huge house within a week. Caleb and Kirsten picked up their relationship as if nothing had ever been wrong. She started working for Caleb. Caleb tried to be civil... sometimes. Sandy could see that Caleb was trying... sort of. Maybe it was because of 6 year old Seth, or maybe it was because Caleb was facing the reality of losing his wife that finally allowed him to see that Kirsten was very much her own person and would put her family, Sandy and Seth, over anything else.
Sandy looked at his cards again and back at Kirsten. The look on her face now as she was staring down her father was similar to the one she wore when she insisted to Caleb that Ryan was now a member of their family and Caleb could either deal with it or not let the door hit him on his ass on the way out. Kirsten played for keeps... in all aspects of life...
"Bullshit..." Sandy intoned.
Caleb turned to Sandy.
"What did you just say to me?"
He narrowed his eyes.
"I do believe I said "bovine fecal matter," Cal... Show me the cards."
Caleb scowled as he dropped his cards and reached for the large pile in front of him. Sandy turned to Kirsten... Next victim...
Thursday, January 22
Caleb and Seth made plans to go sailing that morning. Now as the two of them were at the kitchen table looking over nautical maps, Sandy and Kirsten came into the room, ready to face the day. Sandy poured two cups of coffee from "Brunhilde" as Seth had dubbed the coffee maker.
"Where are you guys going this morning?" Sandy asked Caleb.
Caleb took a sip of his coffee.
"Seth and I are taking the catamaran out. We won't go too far and it'll just be until the middle of the afternoon..."
Seth looked at his grandfather.
"We're gonna have to teach Ryan how to sail, Grandpa."
Caleb looked at his grandson.
"Well, from what you've told me about his fear of heights, it won't be on the cat. He'll probably lose his lunch the first time his side tips up. We'll take him out on the Manta... It's a smoother ride."
"I don't think a 40 foot boat is going to be big enough for the three of them." Sandy whispered to Kirsten as they left for the clinic.
* *
They met with Dr. Rodriguez in Ryan's room. Kirsten tried not to show her disappointment when she saw Ryan still propped up in the bed, his knees still up, still rocking back and forth. They watched as a nurse disconnected the feeding pump and replaced the cap on the tube under his nose.
Sandy was watching Ryan's hands. They were still constantly clutching and releasing the blanket.
"Why is he doing that?" He asked the doctor.
"Repetitive movements of the hands is common in catatonic patients... but here's something interesting..."
Dr. Rodriguez gently took the blanket from Ryan. His hands stopped moving. She handed the blanket to Sandy and placed another blanket in Ryan's hands. His hands twitched and were still.
Kirsten and Sandy looked confused.
"What does this have to do with anything?" Kirsten asked.
"Maybe nothing..." Dr. Rodriguez replied as she removed the clinic's blanket. She retrieved the blanket from Sandy and put it back in Ryan's hands. They watched as his thumbs felt the material. His hands started to clench and unclench the blanket once again.
"It's the blanket you wrapped him up in when he collapsed. I've never seen a patient deliberately stop and start the movements like that before..."
Sandy turned and saw the clinic physician enter the room with two nurses. It was then he noticed the crash cart and portable ventilator in the corner. He drew a deep breath and reminded himself it was only precautionary.
It was the same procedure as yesterday. The bed lowering, the hands that restrained, the quick injection, another welt, no response. Kirsten kept reminding herself that it had barely been 24 hours since the first injection of Lorazepam. She hated the waiting game. She hated the intense fear she felt watching Ryan breathe after the injection, terrified each breath could be his last. Finally the ten minute mark passed. Another prayer of thanks.
* *
A small flash of light made Ryan open his eyes. The flash was only momentary. He rubbed his eyes and waited for them to focus. The flash reappeared. It was quick, like when he would chase the fire flies in the yard of the house in Fresno. Trey had poked holes in the lid of an old "Cheez Whiz" jar so Ryan could catch one. It had to be time to get up now. He went to the window again. This time the black sky was framed in gold. It was the strangest sunrise he'd ever seen. He ran his hand through his hair. He didn't need a mirror to tell him it was standing up at strange angles. He'd grab a shower later. He settled back into bed... just for a little while longer.
* *
Kirsten glanced down at her watch again. All her wealth couldn't make the time move faster. It was just after 12 and there was still no change in Ryan's condition. The nursing staff had been in to put a thick saline type gel into his eyes to keep them from drying out while they stayed open. He hadn't even blinked in 3 days. She had watched as another nurse emptied the catheter bag that was hidden from view by one of the blankets on the bed.
Sandy had taken a walk. He needed to get out of the building. To him, every minute Ryan remained catatonic meant that the boy was slipping further away from them. He had spoken to Trey that morning. He had been upset and angry when Sandy told him of Ryan's condition. Swearing profusely, he hung up, leaving Sandy staring at his quiet cell phone. By the time Sandy got back to Ryan's room, it was time for the feeding pump to be connected again. The thought of the whole process made his stomach queasy. A tube going in and a tube going out. Is this what Ryan's life had been reduced to? Nutrients in, waste out. Rocking back and forth, eyes open, seeing nothing, trapped by his past...
* *
This time when Ryan woke up, the darkness was tempered by a gold haze. It had to be morning. It felt like he had slept forever. It was cold though. He grabbed one of the blankets from the bed and wrapped himself with it. Ryan knew the blanket was familiar, but he wasn't sure where he knew it from. He went to the window and opened the curtains wide. The room was illuminated. The gold haze had now turned into a soft light. It was time.
* *
Sandy and Kirsten left the clinic knowing they had at least an hour before Ryan's next shot of Lorazepam. Kirsten fought the nagging voice of doubt in her head. "The medicine will work" she told herself. It had to work. Now as they sat in a small café, food untouched, there was only silence between them. They were both at the end of their emotional and physical rope. The strain was obvious. Sandy was thinking of how to beak the news to Seth that the treatment wasn't working. Because Ryan's liver was still healing, there was no chance of increasing the dosage of the drug without the possibility of permanently damaging it. The information Dr. Rodriguez had given them on catatonia mentioned electro-convulsive therapy. Sandy couldn't even bring himself to read it. He didn't want to entertain that option. He couldn't.
Kirsten and Sandy drove back to the clinic. They'd barely said 2 words to each other. Words weren't necessary. They knew how each other was feeling and now wasn't the time for words.
Kirsten closed her eyes just as the needle went into Ryan's abdomen. Sandy looked at the floor. He started counting again, just as he did every other time Ryan got the injection. The magic number was 600.
* *
Ryan looked back at the bed and watched it fade into nothingness. He wasn't scared, he knew he had to move forward. He could hear faint words in the distance. He stopped to listen.
Sandy sat quietly in a chair next to Ryan's bed reading the sports page for the 7th time that day. Kirsten sat beside him, reading aloud from a book Rosa had packed from Ryan's room.
"Hey," she said. "Now I finally get to see your place."
"It's small," said Jake.
"Is it too small?"
"I'm all right," he said. He rested his left hand on the top knob of the gear shift. After a minute she laid hers on top of his.
"Nobody knows," she said.
"Nobody knows what?"
"Nobody knows the trouble we've seen."
"It's nice we can share that," said Jake.
Ryan walked towards the voice... to the words that sounded familiar. It was time to go home.
* * * *
The passage quoted is from Michael Chabon's story, "That Was Me" from the book "Werewolves in Their Youth"
Yeah, yeah, same story, same legal stuff.
Chapter Twenty-five.
Ryan yawned and stretched. He blinked a few times as he took in his surroundings. It was so quiet. He shrugged of the thick blankets that kept him warm. He noticed a large window and pushed himself from the bed. He steps were slow and unsteady. His brain was foggy. Pulling back the heavy curtains, he looked out the window and into the dark skies. The stars had stopped sparkling and the night sky was painted in the blue black shade of beckoning slumber. He let go of the curtains and shuffled back to bed. He was still tired. He curled under the blankets and let sleep carry him away. The sun would be out tomorrow.
* *
That evening, Sandy, Kirsten, Seth and Caleb sat in the living room of the beach house playing cards. Sandy was losing badly. He was a lawyer... How could he be losing a game of "Bullshit"? He remembered the night Kirsten dragged him to see the movie "How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days." He had protested all the way to the Cineplex. Two good things came out of that night. First, he spent a great deal of time picturing Kirsten in the pale yellow dress that what's her name was wearing, and second, it brought back memories of the card game he'd played with his buddies at Berkeley. They'd play for quarters and Sandy played well enough to keep him in Kraft Dinner, Mr. Noodles and visits to the Laundromat during his last year of law school.
He stared at his growing pile of cards. Kirsten and Caleb were going head to head during this round. They were a lot alike, Sandy mused to himself. Hardworking, driven, and when they loved, they loved with an intense passion. Caleb loved his wife, and when she passed away, he never allowed himself to love another woman. When Kirsten and Sandy fell in love, he never doubted that Kirsten could or would be swayed by Caleb's threats. Sandy felt badly he caused the rift between them that lasted several years, but part of the rift was caused by the stubbornness that father and daughter shared.
When Caleb had called Kirsten to tell her how sick her mom really was, Sandy and Kirsten made the decision together to move back to Newport Beach. They were ensconced in a huge house within a week. Caleb and Kirsten picked up their relationship as if nothing had ever been wrong. She started working for Caleb. Caleb tried to be civil... sometimes. Sandy could see that Caleb was trying... sort of. Maybe it was because of 6 year old Seth, or maybe it was because Caleb was facing the reality of losing his wife that finally allowed him to see that Kirsten was very much her own person and would put her family, Sandy and Seth, over anything else.
Sandy looked at his cards again and back at Kirsten. The look on her face now as she was staring down her father was similar to the one she wore when she insisted to Caleb that Ryan was now a member of their family and Caleb could either deal with it or not let the door hit him on his ass on the way out. Kirsten played for keeps... in all aspects of life...
"Bullshit..." Sandy intoned.
Caleb turned to Sandy.
"What did you just say to me?"
He narrowed his eyes.
"I do believe I said "bovine fecal matter," Cal... Show me the cards."
Caleb scowled as he dropped his cards and reached for the large pile in front of him. Sandy turned to Kirsten... Next victim...
Thursday, January 22
Caleb and Seth made plans to go sailing that morning. Now as the two of them were at the kitchen table looking over nautical maps, Sandy and Kirsten came into the room, ready to face the day. Sandy poured two cups of coffee from "Brunhilde" as Seth had dubbed the coffee maker.
"Where are you guys going this morning?" Sandy asked Caleb.
Caleb took a sip of his coffee.
"Seth and I are taking the catamaran out. We won't go too far and it'll just be until the middle of the afternoon..."
Seth looked at his grandfather.
"We're gonna have to teach Ryan how to sail, Grandpa."
Caleb looked at his grandson.
"Well, from what you've told me about his fear of heights, it won't be on the cat. He'll probably lose his lunch the first time his side tips up. We'll take him out on the Manta... It's a smoother ride."
"I don't think a 40 foot boat is going to be big enough for the three of them." Sandy whispered to Kirsten as they left for the clinic.
* *
They met with Dr. Rodriguez in Ryan's room. Kirsten tried not to show her disappointment when she saw Ryan still propped up in the bed, his knees still up, still rocking back and forth. They watched as a nurse disconnected the feeding pump and replaced the cap on the tube under his nose.
Sandy was watching Ryan's hands. They were still constantly clutching and releasing the blanket.
"Why is he doing that?" He asked the doctor.
"Repetitive movements of the hands is common in catatonic patients... but here's something interesting..."
Dr. Rodriguez gently took the blanket from Ryan. His hands stopped moving. She handed the blanket to Sandy and placed another blanket in Ryan's hands. His hands twitched and were still.
Kirsten and Sandy looked confused.
"What does this have to do with anything?" Kirsten asked.
"Maybe nothing..." Dr. Rodriguez replied as she removed the clinic's blanket. She retrieved the blanket from Sandy and put it back in Ryan's hands. They watched as his thumbs felt the material. His hands started to clench and unclench the blanket once again.
"It's the blanket you wrapped him up in when he collapsed. I've never seen a patient deliberately stop and start the movements like that before..."
Sandy turned and saw the clinic physician enter the room with two nurses. It was then he noticed the crash cart and portable ventilator in the corner. He drew a deep breath and reminded himself it was only precautionary.
It was the same procedure as yesterday. The bed lowering, the hands that restrained, the quick injection, another welt, no response. Kirsten kept reminding herself that it had barely been 24 hours since the first injection of Lorazepam. She hated the waiting game. She hated the intense fear she felt watching Ryan breathe after the injection, terrified each breath could be his last. Finally the ten minute mark passed. Another prayer of thanks.
* *
A small flash of light made Ryan open his eyes. The flash was only momentary. He rubbed his eyes and waited for them to focus. The flash reappeared. It was quick, like when he would chase the fire flies in the yard of the house in Fresno. Trey had poked holes in the lid of an old "Cheez Whiz" jar so Ryan could catch one. It had to be time to get up now. He went to the window again. This time the black sky was framed in gold. It was the strangest sunrise he'd ever seen. He ran his hand through his hair. He didn't need a mirror to tell him it was standing up at strange angles. He'd grab a shower later. He settled back into bed... just for a little while longer.
* *
Kirsten glanced down at her watch again. All her wealth couldn't make the time move faster. It was just after 12 and there was still no change in Ryan's condition. The nursing staff had been in to put a thick saline type gel into his eyes to keep them from drying out while they stayed open. He hadn't even blinked in 3 days. She had watched as another nurse emptied the catheter bag that was hidden from view by one of the blankets on the bed.
Sandy had taken a walk. He needed to get out of the building. To him, every minute Ryan remained catatonic meant that the boy was slipping further away from them. He had spoken to Trey that morning. He had been upset and angry when Sandy told him of Ryan's condition. Swearing profusely, he hung up, leaving Sandy staring at his quiet cell phone. By the time Sandy got back to Ryan's room, it was time for the feeding pump to be connected again. The thought of the whole process made his stomach queasy. A tube going in and a tube going out. Is this what Ryan's life had been reduced to? Nutrients in, waste out. Rocking back and forth, eyes open, seeing nothing, trapped by his past...
* *
This time when Ryan woke up, the darkness was tempered by a gold haze. It had to be morning. It felt like he had slept forever. It was cold though. He grabbed one of the blankets from the bed and wrapped himself with it. Ryan knew the blanket was familiar, but he wasn't sure where he knew it from. He went to the window and opened the curtains wide. The room was illuminated. The gold haze had now turned into a soft light. It was time.
* *
Sandy and Kirsten left the clinic knowing they had at least an hour before Ryan's next shot of Lorazepam. Kirsten fought the nagging voice of doubt in her head. "The medicine will work" she told herself. It had to work. Now as they sat in a small café, food untouched, there was only silence between them. They were both at the end of their emotional and physical rope. The strain was obvious. Sandy was thinking of how to beak the news to Seth that the treatment wasn't working. Because Ryan's liver was still healing, there was no chance of increasing the dosage of the drug without the possibility of permanently damaging it. The information Dr. Rodriguez had given them on catatonia mentioned electro-convulsive therapy. Sandy couldn't even bring himself to read it. He didn't want to entertain that option. He couldn't.
Kirsten and Sandy drove back to the clinic. They'd barely said 2 words to each other. Words weren't necessary. They knew how each other was feeling and now wasn't the time for words.
Kirsten closed her eyes just as the needle went into Ryan's abdomen. Sandy looked at the floor. He started counting again, just as he did every other time Ryan got the injection. The magic number was 600.
* *
Ryan looked back at the bed and watched it fade into nothingness. He wasn't scared, he knew he had to move forward. He could hear faint words in the distance. He stopped to listen.
Sandy sat quietly in a chair next to Ryan's bed reading the sports page for the 7th time that day. Kirsten sat beside him, reading aloud from a book Rosa had packed from Ryan's room.
"Hey," she said. "Now I finally get to see your place."
"It's small," said Jake.
"Is it too small?"
"I'm all right," he said. He rested his left hand on the top knob of the gear shift. After a minute she laid hers on top of his.
"Nobody knows," she said.
"Nobody knows what?"
"Nobody knows the trouble we've seen."
"It's nice we can share that," said Jake.
Ryan walked towards the voice... to the words that sounded familiar. It was time to go home.
* * * *
The passage quoted is from Michael Chabon's story, "That Was Me" from the book "Werewolves in Their Youth"