Ch. 4: IN THE HOSPITAL

PAUL

Ever know someone who was just about died? It's rather a harrowing experience. And my Gramps almost did. Things like that just make you want to cherish life for a moment or two more than you did before the experience.

And on top of it, Gramps and I were just getting to know each other better, too. That's why I spent the night at the hospital. And that's why, when I looked into the mirror in the following morning, I noticed lines of worry under my eyes and darkened shadows, aided by the lack of sleep I had.

I didn't know who to call. Who to tell what just happened. Mom and Dad? They don't even care, I grimaced in disgust. Suze? Jesse? I didn't want to bother them. Jackie? Hell, this wasn't her problem. It's mine and mine alone.

That's why, as the nurses left, and those who had night-shift came in to the hospital, I was all alone, holding Gramps's fragile, wrinkled and liver-spotted hand.

That's why, when the nurse came in the second morning that I was here, and said, "Mr. Slater?" with sympathy. "I understand that you are concerned about your grandfather, and I understand that you didn't want to go to school today. Do you need me to write a note for you?"

I lifted up my weary, tired eyes, "What?"
"Today's Monday."

Shit. I'd forgotten all about the days of the week. I had forgotten about anything that had existed outside of this hospital. The entire weekend had just seemed to mesh into one blurry, horrible day. But now it was Monday. "Yeah," I said. I mean, what else could I say?

She thankful left after that to get me a note.

JACKIE

"Where's Paul?" I tried to act nonchalant. Those words had been on the tip of my tongue all day. It felt great to finally voice my thoughts to Suze in the last period of the day.

"I don't know," she told me. So I forced myself not to slump down in the seat from disappointment.

Who else would know, I thought. I was itching to find out what happened to the guy. Can you blame me if I missed the dolt? But I pacified – or at least, attempted to pacify myself – thinking: he's probably sick or something. People are absent all the time.

But, see? There was this nagging feeling in the back of my head telling my something was wrong. Very wrong. He didn't look anything besides glowing-with-health the last time he dropped me off at home.

At the last resort I found myself walking in the direction of the main office, to see the attendance office. What am I doing? I thought. This was beyond strange. When was the last time I went to the attendance office to check whether the guy I liked – all right, who I thought was an okay guy - was not dead or dying at this moment?

Um, how about never?

I couldn't do it. I shouldn't, couldn't do it.

I did. "Um, Ms. -" I looked at the desk name-tag " – Baker? I'm… ah… a friend… yeah. I'm a friend of Paul Slater, and he wasn't here today. You, um, think… um…"

God, was I the worst at lying or what?

"See, I was wondering if he was alright?"

Was that lame or what? And I doubt she believed me, so as I was about to turn around and walk away, she said, "Ah, Mr. Slater? He's in the hospital today."

"What!" Alarm rippled through my voice. Alarm, which, to my utter chagrin, that coursed through my body like an electric pulse.

Ms. Baker, the Bearer of Bad News, as I was starting to think of her, gave me a sympathetic smile. "Not him, Miss. His guardian – his grandfather, Dr. Slaski – had to be rushed to the E.R."

I began to feel my breathing start up once more. I didn't realize I had held my breath. I exhaled in relief.

Then I felt a pang of guilt inside of me. I was glad that his grandfather was sick and not Paul himself?

"I mean," I said, once I regained my composure. "I'm so sorry."

Then I turned around and walked away. Okay, now what? So I found out that he was okay. What difference did it make?

All the difference in the world, I realized. The question I faced with now was what was I going to do about it? I mean, what do I do? Send Paul one of those cheesy Hallmark cards that they advertise on TV? That had a picture of a bird all by itself on it, and it said, "So sorry…" followed by a crappy, sentimental poem in it? I think not.

I caught up with Suze after that.

"Simon," I said, "I need a ride to the hospital."

"Are you okay?" She looked at me in a rush, with real concern.

"Yeah. I got to visit some one."

While Suze drove me to the hospital, I filled her in on the details I found out from Ms. Baker.

She was concerned, and told me that she understood why I needed to see Paul so badly. The funny thing was, she understood why, but I didn't. So what if his grandfather was in the hospital? Well, okay, Paul would feel pretty bad. It would matter to him that much I know.

When it came to Paul, I didn't understand what happened to me. I went all crazy; I did things, and I didn't know why I was doing them.

Geez, I was taking, "Know Thyself" to a whole other level.

When we went to the front desk of the hospital, the lady up front asked for the name…
Slater? ... Slacky…? What had Ms. Baker told me was his last name?

"Slaski," Suze informed the secretary. I was glad she was here. Suze wanted to see Mr. Slaski too. Told me he was a friend of hers.

"Room 57 A; down the corridor, take a left, second door on your right."

And there they were – Paul and his grandfather, I mean – in room 57 A. Impulsively, I rushed over to Paul and hugged him. "You worried me you poor bastard!" I cried with – oh my God – affection.

Paul seemed surprised – so was I – at what I did, but he hugged me back. Then it finished as quickly as it started: I stepped back with embarrassment and horror at what I had just done. I had hugged Paul Slater. And I didn't feel a lick of guilt.

"We heard what happened," Suze said. She didn't seem to notice anything wrong, or awkward about me hugging Paul.

"Yeah," said Paul, wearily, as he ran his hands over his face. He looked so tired. That's when I noticed the bags under his eyes; Paul was pale and exhausted.

"Listen, do you need me to grab a cup of coffee for you from the caf?" asked Suze. "You look like you could use one."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

"Want one, too, Jackie?"

"Nah, it's okay. I'm good."

Paul sat back down in one of the visitor's chairs. "How's your grandfather?" I asked, hushed.

"I don't know," Paul said with a strain in his voice.

"And how are you?"
Paul looked up at me. "Better, since you came in here."

Then I realized my outfit. I'd gone "Kelly" today.

"Hey, I didn't dress up for you," I told him sourly. "The school made me."

"Is that so? Then I'm glad they did," he grinned behind his tired eyes.

I laughed outright. "Shut up. Enjoy it while it lasts. I'm not planning on keeping this look, not by a long shot." Actually, I was; a little bit, anyway. But Paul didn't need to know that.

Suddenly, he said, "He's one of us. My grandfather, I mean. He – he has the same 'gift' that Suze, Jesse, you and me share."

"I didn't know."

"And if – if he … dies," Paul said the words like he'd just swallowed something really sour.

"He's not going to die," I told him firmly.

He took me by the hand – a purely impulsive thing, but I think it made him feel better. We all need a hand to hold sometimes, I realized.

Suze's boyfriend, Jesse something-or-another, came by too, to visit Dr. Slaski. Eventually, it was time to go. I asked Paul, "You think you're going to be okay?"
"I'll manage."

I didn't know what I could say or do to make him feel better. But I managed to give him a half-smile, and left.

PAUL

They were gone. And the hospital staff informed me there was nothing more I could do. They had let me stay the night twice, but now that grandpa had been taken out of ICU – Intensive Care Unit – and put into the regular part of hospital, they saw no reason for me to stay.

But… all alone. The house had never felt as barren as it did that night when I came home from the hospital. All the lights were turned off, as if a black out had been rolling along in the neighborhood. It was cold, and I would have called it spooky, but ghosts don't scare me. It was too ironic.

I heard my footsteps loudly echo throughout the entire house, as I walked across the titled hallway and into my bedroom.

Then I went to bed. What else was there to do, you know?