Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Numb3rs, or the characters therein. All characters are fictional, and should not be associated with any other person, real or imagined.
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Charlie had just helped Don find the last item in the pan of rice when Jim and his father returned. Don was sitting with two charts full of ten stars each, smiling proudly at his daddy and trying to pick them up so he could see what a good job he and Buddy had done. Alan reached for the charts, studied them for several minutes and congratulated Don, slipping the charts halfway into Don's front pocket alongside his chalk, so he could show them off to anyone who was interested. Jim went into overdrive, bouncing across the room to where they sat, tooting an imaginary horn in honor of the accomplished tasks.
"Well, done, troops. Mission accomplished." Bobbing his head to an unheard rhythm, Jim sidestepped all the way to his file cabinet and brought out a clear acrylic jar full of suckers. He bound over to Don and presented it to him. "You have won the second-highest award possible. For earning ten stars, you get to pick one- any one. It's all for you and for nobody else." Jim opened the jar, urging Don to take a sucker out. Don did not move, unsure how he could get one of the offered items. Jim took Don's left hand, crooked his index finger and dipped it into the opening of the jar. Each sucker was wrapped with plastic around the candy, unwrapped loops sticking out as holders instead of sticks. Jim led Don's finger around the interior of the jar, and after he got a look of interest when a red one was touched, he helped his patient snag a sucker and pull it out. Don looked at Buddy, but Jim shook his head. "Wet candy can be very detrimental to a furry animal. Let Buddy enjoy watching you with your treat." After unwrapping the sucker, Jim looped it around the first two fingers of Don's right hand and showed him how to put it in his mouth. He was about to tell Don to suck on it, but quickly realized that it was unnecessary; that was one trick Don had mastered.
Charlie watched Don happily sucking on his candy, filled with contradictory emotions that were tearing into him. After accepting Jim and his crazy teaching methods, Charlie had fallen in step and continued the soldier talk when the therapist and his dad had left him alone with Don. He had been just as enthusiastic as his predecessor, cheering Don to find the items and clapping with excitement when one was finally found. To his embarrassment, he discovered he was enjoying himself. This was causing feelings of guilt to rear its ugly head, because he thought it had to be anathema to Don's condition to actually enjoy the therapy that he was required to perform.
Being analytical in his thinking, Charlie broke the reason behind his pleasure into three integrated pieces. The first one directly involved the prospect that the activity would help Don get better; that was always foremost in Charlie's mind. The second one had to do with his experience as a teacher. He had been a professor for some years and had found it very challenging at first; but now, students entering his classes were brighter and more receptive, and he was finding his techniques had improved to the point that teaching had become a rote exercise. An effective one, no doubt, but it still did not offer the twist and turns and surprises that it had originally held when he first started his professorship. Like many in his profession, Charlie had not realized he had been heading for burnout. With Don's therapy and the obstacles he would face, Charlie was cognizant that he would have to develop new pedagogic methods to meet Don's needs. The natural teacher in Charlie could not wait to start the journey of learning that he and his brother would be taking- one as teacher, one as student. And best of all, they would be taking that journey together.
Which led to the third reason that Charlie had for enjoying the therapy; he was allowed to spend all of his time with Don, doing activities that were reminiscent of ones he had not been able to do with his brother as a child. There had been too many factors separating them during their youth: the age difference between them, Charlie's time spent with tutors-Don's time with sports, and the usual sibling rivalries. Charlie had agreed with his father's statement that the therapy seemed like playing games, something he had been limited in doing with Don when they were younger. Though they played chess and Scrabble as adults, those games still didn't compare to fun games that involved pretending and laughing and clapping. In Charlie's eyes, it was as if they were taking a small trip back in time to childhood, with all of its innocence and hope and love and protection and acceptance all wrapped up in the youthful eyes that looked at him from his brother's thirty-five-year-old face.
Sensing the childhood nostalgia that was consuming Charlie with the presence of the suckers, Jim mischievously asked Don, "Sir, do you think your brother would like to enjoy Buddy's treat."
Don nodded his approval, and Jim offered the jar of suckers to Charlie, who bashfully took a sucker, unwrapped it, and stuck it in his mouth, holding it on his fingers like Don.
"Troops, we must move out. We have to reconnoiter with Olivia at her office."
Don and Charlie left the therapy room, followed closely behind by Jim and Alan. The brothers were an odd pair as they walked down the hall together: one tall and older with short hair and more than remnants of a muscular build, carrying a stuffed toy; the other short and younger with wild curly hair and a lanky body. But their brotherly connection was obvious to all, as they walked with a similar gait, smiled the same smile, and had the same happy gleam in their eye from the satisfaction of each other's company- and the ever-wonderful taste of twin cherry suckers sliding around the insides of their mouths.
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Don entered Olivia's office first and made a beeline for her couch, sitting comfortably amongst the cushions and carefully setting Buddy up next to him. His mind was trying to retain at least one segment of his daily routine, and he waited patiently for someone to ask him which cartoon he would like to watch.
"It seems like someone has made up his mind to do something other than therapy this afternoon," Olivia commented, her arms folded across her chest in mock disapproval.
Charlie came to Don's defense. "We haven't done any of the things he's use to doing, and maybe it would be good…?" The question died in his throat when he saw the stern look on Olivia's face. "Maybe not," he relinquished control of the situation to the younger woman.
Clearing his throat, Jim piped in, "Why don't you take Mr. Eppes into the other room and show him how to use the assistive devices. We only have about an hour before Don has to be ready for his MRI, and it'll save time if you have that out of the way before we try feeding him."
Cocking an eyebrow at Jim, Olivia asked, "And what will you three be doing while I'm busy doing your job?"
"Well, uh," Jim had a hard time finding the right words to say, keeping his eyes averted from Olivia. When he was finally able to meet her eyes, he blushed, turning bright red from head to foot. Charlie and Alan shared a look, smiling. Jim was still fidgeting with his hands and bouncing on his feet, but the movement was obviously an expenditure of nervous energy. It was quite clear that Jim liked Olivia. A lot.
Smiling deeply as only a woman who knows she is in control can, Olivia released Jim from his discomfiture and addressed Alan. "Come on, I'll show you how to use the tools while the boys play with the TV. for a little while."
After Alan and Olivia had taken leave, Jim relaxed. He went to a cabinet drawer and pulled out a large piece of thick plastic about a foot in length. He brought it to the couch, sitting down on one side of Don while Charlie sat on his brother's other side. Jim explained, "This is a TV, VCR, and DVD remote control. Notice there are four large circular buttons, each one with a different picture on it- one each of a TV, a DVD player, a VCR, and one showing an old-fashioned channel changer. Don can use this to turn on the machines and channel surf. All he has to do is poke with his finger." Jim showed him how to use the tool. Don played with the remote, happily changing the picture on the television by poking his left index finger on the channel changer over and over again.
"Do we get to take this home with us?" Charlie asked.
"You can if you pay for it. We provide the basics- you know, things insurance companies will pay for. This isn't one of those things." When he saw the hesitation on Charlie's face, Jim added, "It really isn't necessary, you know. I thought it would give Don a little break to play with it before eating."
"How much?"
"A little over three hundred."
Charlie knew he wanted it. Experiencing an indulgent feeling similar to that of a new father, he was positive he wanted anything and everything that would make life easier and happier for Don. Somewhere in the back of his head, he was getting a nagging feeling that he was going to 'spoil' his brother if he bought him everything that caught his attention, but Charlie didn't care. Besides, he figured between what he had left in the bank and the money his dad had from selling his business, they could easily afford a few hundred bucks. And anything else Don wanted. His father would understand, he reasoned, as the older man had pointed out that Charlie could never say no to Don.
"Wrap it up and pack it." Charlie stood up and took the device from Don, handing it to Jim.
"Okay, fine. Let's join your father and Olivia. We should have just enough time for Don to eat before getting him to that MRI."
They entered a room next door to Olivia's office. Inside were six chairs circling a table containing an odd-shaped plate with a lip bent over one edge, a sippy cup with handles, a place mat, and a rotating utensil holder clipped to the corner of the table.
"Come on in, gentlemen. Let's get started." Olivia directed a nervous Don to take the seat in front of the plate, with Charlie to his right. Charlie had his back to the table and faced Don.
Jim pulled what appeared to be a batting glove over Don's hand; a rectangular magnet was set into its palm.
"Don can feed himself with this device. See the utensils in this carousal." Jim pointed to the end of the table. The utensil holder had a fork, a knife, and a spoon attached to its exterior. "Each utensil has a magnet on it. All Don has to do is put his palm on one of the magnets, and the magnet on his glove will attach to it. Then, he can slide the utensil up and out of the top of the carousal." He took Don's hand and showed him how to do it, having him pick up the spoon.
Astonished, Don tried to shake the utensil that now appeared to be stuck to his palm. It would not budge. Jim bent Don's fingers around the spoon. "This is good gripping practice. Don doesn't need strength, but he should try to keep his hand in proper position."
"Now, all he has to do is scoop up some food and eat."
As if on cue, Olivia sat on the other side of Don, facing the same way as Charlie. "The spoon has a shallow bowl so that Don can not pick up too much food at once. The lip of the plate allows him to lift food up against it. Then, all he has to do is put the food in his mouth. When he does, pay close attention. You will want to massage his throat when he begins swallowing, which is almost from the minute he puts the food in his mouth. Okay, Don. You can start eating."
Don stared at the funny plate in front of him. He did not want to put any food into his mouth. He was positive he would start to choke. That morning he did. And it had hurt his throat. Besides, he knew he could not chew the food. Anxiety began to rise up in his chest. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes and he tried to throw the spoon away. But it wouldn't go anywhere. He tried to shove the plate with the back of his hand, but was disappointed that it refused to move, too. Giving up, Don tried to put his thumb in his mouth, but found the spoon was in the way, so he settled on pulling his left ear.
"It's okay, Don. I'm right here. I promise I won't let you choke." Don listened to Charlie's confident tone. "I know you can do it, Don." His indecision disappeared when Charlie pleaded, "For me, Don, please- for me."
As it turned out, Don also had a hard time saying no to his brother.
While Don scooped up some ground carrots, Olivia reminded him to chew, showing him how by opening and closing her mouth. Then, she put her thumb and index finger along his throat. When he put the spoon in his mouth, she encouraged him to chew while she began pulling down on the outside of his throat, only stopping when she felt the motion of swallowing travel past the sensitive tips of her fingers.
Don turned to Charlie, grinning. "I did it."
"You sure did, Don. You sure did." Charlie rubbed Don's shoulder, encouraging him to continue.
"Now, you try it." Olivia told Charlie, helping him set his finger and thumb in the same position. Charlie waited until he saw Don chew several times and then he began to pull. He was surprised that he could actually feel the muscles in the throat fluctuating under his fingertips.
And Don had swallowed without any difficulty.
The brothers looked at each other in amazement; because they had acted as one, Don had been able to eat. In their own individual ways, Charlie and Don felt the bond tighten between them. Charlie understood that their accomplishment as a team was a validation that Don's entire therapy would only be successful if they worked together. Don was thinking more of the immediate future, that if Charlie and he stayed together than he wouldn't have to drink bottles, and maybe he could be a big boy after all.
They were shaken from their reverie when Olivia asked, "Are you thirsty, Don?" After getting an affirmative answer, Olivia slipped Don's left hand into one handle of the sippy cup and told him to lift it to his mouth and suck. While he did so, she explained, "The handles are oversized, so a man's hand can slip through them. And it's spill-proof, just like a child's cup." Don put the cup back on the table and pulled his hand out of the handle. His eyes went wide when the cup fell to its side, but they burrowed when he saw that no liquid had leaked to the table top. After poking the cup several times, Don was certain that he had not made a mess. He took the spoon and scooped up some more food, holding it in from of his face, not wanting to put it in his mouth until he felt Charlie's fingers on his throat.
While Don finished eating with Charlie's assistance, Jim asked Alan if he was hungry. "We have a small cafeteria that serves snacks when the lunch hour is over."
"That's okay. Charlie and I had a large breakfast." Alan could not explain it; he had felt the rumbling of hunger when they had first entered this room, but his own appetite seemed sated once he had seen Don successfully swallow his first bite of food. And the more Don ate, the fuller Alan felt. Must be going crazy, Alan thought, but it must be the good kind of crazy, cause I've haven't felt this happy in a long time.