CHAPTER 9: What's Wrong With Jason?
As soon as the ambulance left, we all got on the bus to go to the hotel. During the ride, I sat beside Kristy; Andrew and David Michael sat in front of us; Mom and Seth sat behind us; and Hannie and Nancy sat across the aisle from us. All the while, I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. I was also angry with myself for not figuring it out sooner.
"He's got to be all right, Kristy," I said, trying to keep myself from crying. "I couldn't stand it if anything happened to him."
"Listen to me, Karen," Kristy said, turning to face me with her hands on my shoulders. "He's going to be just fine. And you shouldn't feel guilty about this, because there's no way you could've known."
"Yeah, you're probably right," I agreed, laying my head on Kristy's shoulder. I felt a little better after hearing Kristy say that.
The sun was setting as we arrived at the hotel, which was across the street from Watergate. And let me tell you, it was impressive. I'd only seen pictures of it in History class when we'd learned about the 1972 break-in, which led to Nixon's resignation, among other things. It was even mentioned in Forrest Gump, and on an episode of Quantum Leap during the show's first season. However, seeing it up close and personal was a different kind of experience.
We got off the elevator and followed the bellhop down the hall to our room. On the way down the hall, I was remembering that when I was younger, one of my favorite games to play at Daddy's had been "Let's All Come In". It's a hotel game where the players all pretend that they're guests at a fancy hotel. We had silly character names, like Mrs. Mysterious, Darryl Blueberry, Steve Stringbean—you get the idea, right? The oldest player—usually Kristy or David Michael—was the bellhop/desk clerk, and the youngest player (first Andrew, then Emily) was usually given the animal or child roles. And in case you're wondering, that game still gets played at that house every now and then.
When the bellhop opened the door to our room, and we got our first glimpse, I thought it looked like the pictures I'd seen on Wikipedia of the parlor suites on the Titanic. There was a wet bar, a big-screen TV/DVD player, two queen-size beds with dark blue quilts and those little chocolate mints on the pillows, and a computer with Internet access. When I went into the bathroom, I was even more impressed. The walls and ceiling were gleaming white, there was pink and gold wallpaper on the walls, fuzzy pink rugs on the floor, and also had a bathtub and shower stall, as well as shiny brass swan-neck faucets on the tub and sink, not to mention a fully-stocked medicine cabinet. It looked really nice, and sure beat those dumpy little rooms at Motel 6 any day.
"Mommy, Seth, we promise not to spend $967 on room service," Andrew said. We all got a good laugh, and I really needed one, after what I'd just witnessed with Jason collapsing.
Just then, the phone rang. My first thought was of Jason. Seth apparently read my mind, because instead of picking up the receiver, he pressed the speakerphone button. "Hello?"
"Hi, it's Steve. Listen, Jason just came out of surgery about fifteen minutes ago, and we just talked to the doctor. Apparently, he needed his appendix out. And just in time, too. The doctor says that if they'd waited another minute or so to operate, his appendix would've exploded and made him even sicker."
Mom, Andrew, and I gasped, then sighed with relief when Steve told us that. That was all it took for me to know that Jason was going to be all right.
"He's in the recovery room now," Steve continued. "The doctor says they want to keep him at least over the weekend, then release him on Sunday."
"Thanks for calling Steve," Seth said. "We'll let the others know right away." And he hung up.
I really hoped Jason would be released from the hospital in time for the competition, which was three days away. I think we all were.