Chapter 10
Charlie opened his eyes, although it seemed to take him forever to do it.
He couldn't remember ever feeling so tired in his life.
He couldn't remember ever having to use the bathroom so badly in his life, either.
He looked around for his brother, or his father. Daylight still spilled through the window, so he didn't think they would have gone home, yet. He didn't have a watch on, so he didn't know what time it was. His stomach growled, then burned. That was an ulcer thing he was supposed to get used to recognizing. He needed to eat frequently.
He lay on the bed and considered that. He might be able to eat something. He didn't really feel like he was going to lose this morning's gelatin, anymore.
He tried to sit up a little, then remembered the bed controls and moved the bed up instead. He pushed the button for the nurse. He really had to go. He waited a few moments, and no one responded. He tried to see the controls better. Maybe he had done something wrong. He tried again.
Finally, Charlie reached his arm over the bed rail and released it, watched it slide down. He threw back the sheet and willed himself to move.
He was sort of afraid. Not because of the pain — that was bearable. He was afraid that in moving, he would put pressure on his bladder and pee all over the place. Maybe it was a good thing no one was here to see that, after all.
He was tethered to an IV pole, but he was glad to see that it was a rolling one that sat beside the bed. He took a breath and swung his legs over the side.
He sat on the edge of the bed until his head cleared a little, then pulled the IV pole toward him and used it for leverage, pulling himself into an upright position.
He almost collapsed back onto the bed and just let himself go. This was surely going to kill him.
Charlie thought about it. He could die in a pool of his own pee, or he could die trying to be a man.
No contest.
He took a tentative step, and was relieved when one foot automatically followed the other, as if he had been walking most of his life, or something. Haltingly, he alternately pushed and pulled the IV pole along, bent at a 30-degree angle, taking ridiculously small steps. He was pretty sure it was the same day by the time he reached the bathroom.
Once inside, he continued to hold the IV stand with one hand while he stood over the toilet and did his business. He sighed audibly with release, and was glad again that he was alone.
Finished, he shuffled to the sink, turned on the water and washed one hand. Then he turned it off and looked in the mirror.
Holy crap.
That was a pretty scary sight.
He thought about the trip back to bed. Maybe he should just stay here for a while. He would probably have to go again sometime.
Suddenly, the door burst open and he was nearly blown over by the force and the shock of it. He started to list dangerously to the side and felt a strong hand grasp his upper arm.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Charlie looked into the mirror again and saw Donnie.
"Waiting for you," he said.
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Don settled Charlie in the chair while Alan went to the nurses' station to report the non-functional call unit. "You're sure you want to sit up for a while? Geez, Charlie, six hours ago you were talking to your pillow about a burning piano."
Charlie nodded. "Just needed a little sleep," he said. "But could you sit down? Makes me a little dizzy to look up all the time."
Don sat in the other chair. He settled back and crossed one leg over the other knee, and smiled. "Damn, Charlie. Even when you're sick as a dog I can't keep up with you. I can't believe you climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom. I'll never talk Dad into leaving for dinner again. You were supposed to sleep the rest of the night!"
Charlie, still obviously tired, perked up a little. "Dinner?"
Don's smile broadened. "You hungry?"
Charlie nodded as Alan and Cecile came through the door. Alan hurried to Charlie. "Are you all right?" He looked at Don. "Is he all right?"
Cecile was right behind him, pulling the thermometer out of her pocket. "I know I said I wanted you to walk both ways to the bathroom, but I thought you understood that I intended to go with you," she smiled.
Charlie looked up and shrugged, then brought his hand up to grasp his father's, which was on his shoulder now. "I'm fine, Dad. I tried to get help. I'm sorry."
Cecile looked at the digital display and took the few steps to the far side of the bed. She trailed the line from the call unit across the floor, then looked at the three men. "Unplugged," she said simply, and disappeared for a moment before popping back up. She pushed the button.
A voice came through the unit. "This is Mary."
"Hey, Mary, it's Cecile. I'm just testing Charlie's call unit."
"Seems to be working now."
"Unplugged. I think the bed is too far from the wall again. Anyway, thanks."
"No problem, Cece."
Charlie was leaning his face into Alan's hand a little, and Alan finally noted with a start that it wasn't burning up. "How's his temperature?"
Cecile smiled. "I love it when a plan comes together. I think Dr. Reynolds has finally hit on the right combination. It's all the way down to 99.8!" Alan smiled while she rounded the bed again. "Do you think you could handle some more gelatin? Color of your choice."
Charlie made a face. "I…" He felt his father's grip tighten on his shoulder. "Ouch, Dad…I'm hungry. I'll eat. Does it have to be that stuff?"
Cecile laughed. "Have you ever had it as a hot drink? It's really pretty good."
Charlie looked a little more interested, but still not sold.
Cecile tried again. "Okay. Clear chicken broth. Keep that down and we'll discuss one scrambled egg for breakfast."
Charlie lit up like a Christmas tree, and Cecile left, promising to be right back.
Alan left Charlie's side and sank onto the edge of the bed. He looked at his son. "Don't do things like that to me," he begged.
Charlie frowned. "I'm sorry, Dad…"
Alan waved a hand at him and smiled. "Like I could be angry at you, Little One."
Charlie smiled a little, but it soon disappeared and he looked at Don. "What day is it?"
"Thursday night, Chuck. Longest Monday you'll ever have."
Charlie grinned a little, then sank his head back and groaned.
"What is it?", Don and Alan both asked at once.
He straightened. "I'm okay, don't worry. It's just that I think I'm supposed to pick Larry up at the airport tomorrow evening."
Don relaxed and settled back in the chair again. "Is that all? Just tell me which airline and when. I'll do it."
Charlie reddened a little. "I'm sure it's in my PDA."
"And where is that, Little Bro?"
Charlie reddened some more. "Um…I'm not entirely sure…"
Don laughed. "Relax. I'll call Larry's cell."
"Oh, boy." They both looked at Alan. "You're thinking Larry will remember?"
"He's got to get the airport somehow. He must have a ticket or something to look at."
Don looked back at Charlie, who was looking thoroughly unhappy. "What?"
"I think…perhaps…it's possible I was supposed to call and remind him."
Don raised an eyebrow. "Let me get this straight. Larry asked you to call and remind him to go get on a plane."
Charlie nodded miserably. "Maybe it's in my e-mail. You could probably find my lap top."
Don finally relented and started laughing.
Alan looked at him. "What's so funny?"
"I'm sorry, Charlie. Don't worry about it. When I called Larry to ask if he could pick you up Monday afternoon, he got concerned and e-mailed me his itinerary, just in case you weren't feeling up to par by Friday."
Charlie glared at his brother. "Don, I've said it before, and I'll say it again."
Don looked at him. "What, kemosabe?"
"You." Charlie broke into a grin. "You are the best brother in the entire universe."