Chapter 7
I hear the sound of the ticking of clocks
Come back and look for me, look for me
When I am lost
"A Whisper", Coldplay
It was dark, raining maybe? He didn't know. Everything hurt and nothing hurt and not a bit of it made sense anymore. Anytime he tried to see something, it all tilted and spun and ached, so he stopped trying. It was easier to rest in the dark for now, but for the panicked gibberish surrounding him. It was all he could hear, like everyone was talking too fast for him to follow.
"No, no, honey, don't touch…it's ok, baby. Don't cry." He recognized his mom, her voice echoing as he felt himself falling backward. He was crying? Well, maybe.
The falling sensation intensified as he felt spinny and sick. His thoughts swirling around…no, you were right, you need to leave, go, leave, go, run, runawayfaraway now…
/Oh really, now/ It was a different thought, a different voice and it suddenly made everything stand still. He was blind and deaf and mute, just standing there in that voice. But everything was calm and steady and quiet.
/Tell me. When did you first run away/
He'd been four. Four, and had just discovered that he was tall enough to reach the handle to the door to their apartment building. Daddy and Mama wouldn't stop yelling, wouldn't stop arguing. He hated it when they yelled. He'd stood in the doorway until Daddy noticed and turned and said, "Timmy, for God's sake, just go do something! Quit lurking around in doorways!" And so, he went into the bedroom and buried himself in the bed, but he could still hear them. They were quiet a moment, but then started yelling again, even louder. It was scary when they yelled. Everything was scary now that Papa was sick and couldn't be at the restaurant anymore. Daddy had to do it now. He was scared, so he went and pulled his coat down from the hooks and fumbled his way into it, and opened the door to the apartment, very slowly, waiting for someone to notice and tell him to stay in the apartment, but no one did. He crept down the stairs and out the front door and stood on the stoop in the cold, before finding his way to the playground behind the church. One of the priests had found him, and brought him inside and called his parents and they'd come and gotten him. Someone must have told them not to, because they didn't yell, just looked at him tight lipped and shook their heads in exasperation. He'd gone home and they'd stopped yelling, and things started to get better, in some ways. But he never forgot how it felt to realize that he didn't have to stay when he was scared.
/And that worked out really well for you, did it/
Well, no. Not exactly. Although, it had eventually gotten him to Miami.
/You were lucky. If Sean hadn't found you, you'd probably be long dead./
He had nothing to say to that. It was probably true.
/All right then. So why run again? You won't be so lucky this time. You know too much/
This was also probably true. I don't understand, he thought.
/It's ok, you don't have to/
Eric left, he's gone…
/Yes, he is./
But…
/I'm not Eric/
Then who are you?
Laughter. Then/I'm you, of course. I'm the inside of your head/
He realized suddenly that he was talking to a voice he heard in his head. Did it make you schizophrenic to talk to voices you hear in your head? Was this what they meant when they talked about hearing voices?
More laughter. /Oh, no, Timmy. You're not schizophrenic. You're severely depressed and perhaps have a touch of an anxiety disorder, but you're not schizo. Promise. I'd know if you were./
Well, ok then, he supposed. Is this real?
/As real as anything is, really/
What the hell's that suppose to mean?
/You'll have to decide that yourself./
But, why…
/Why can you hear me now/
Yeah
/Because sometimes it works out that way. I have no answers for that./
Well, that's a real help, you know?
/Yeah, well, Life's a bitch sometimes. You know that./
Humph.
/It's time for you to go now/
Go where?
/Back out there./
Back out to the spinning and confusion? No, I don't think so.
/There's no choice in the matter. Back up you go/
But… he thought as things lightened and became louder Wait, I'm not ready.
/Of course not. No one is. But it's ok, Tim. You know the way back./
I like it here, though. It's quiet.
/This isn't going anywhere. It's always been here. You just didn't know it./
Can I come back?
/Maybe. But you have to really want it. Enough, now, open your eyes./
All of a sudden, he was awake, looking around wildly. "Hey, there, it's ok."
His eyes focused on his father, who was reaching out from where he sat near the bed. He tried to talk, but his mouth was clumsy and dry. He swallowed hard around something in his throat and tried again. "…Dad"
"Yeah, it's me, Little Man. How do you feel?" his dad asked.
He shook his head slightly, then gasped as the pain crashed down on him.
"Ok, ok, It's ok, here, grab my hand, it's ok…" He felt his dad's hand around his own and held on for dear life. The next minute, there was a nurse who did something to the IV in his hand and then suddenly he could relax.
"Better?" the nurse asked. He nodded. "Ok, good. Welcome back, Mr. Speedle. Do you think you'll be sticking around for good now?"
He blinked, confused. The nurse chuckled. "It might be easier to talk if you talk through your teeth. Like this," she said, demonstrating.
"Mmm", he said. "What…?"
"You've been very sick," his dad explained. "Do you remember what happened, first?"
He thought a moment. "The warehouse?"
His dad nodded. "Right. You were attacked. The doctors had to do surgery on your jaw and on your abdomen. And then things looked good, but you spiked a high fever and wound up with a staph infection. You've been…not with us, for a couple days."
"Right," the nurse said. "Which is why I asked if you were going to stick around, this time," she smiled.
"I…think so," he said, slowly.
"Good," she said.
"Thirsty," he said.
"I'd give you something to drink, but you've got an NG tube in right now, so I can't. We didn't want you vomiting, because there's a lot of stitches in your mouth and your stomach muscles are probably pretty sore. I can let you rinse out your mouth, though, until we can see about taking the tube out," the nurse said, regretfully.
"Mmm. Whatever," he said.
"All right then, I'll go try and track down your doctor. Be careful if you want to try and sit up. You can if you want, but go slowly," she said.
"I'll keep an eye on him," his dad said. The nurse nodded and left.
"Mom?" he asked.
"Your mom is here, yes. She went to go get some sleep, she was here last night," his dad explained.
"You at my house?" he asked.
"Yeah. We thought it would be best, that way someone could deal with the menagerie," his dad replied with a smile.
"Isn't that bad," he grumbled.
"Your mom wanted to know when you turned into a crazy cat lady. I told her that was all her fault, since she's one herself."
He tried to laugh, but it hurt. "Ow."
"Sorry, I won't make you laugh," his dad apologized. "But yes, your mom, Marianne and I are staying at your house. We would have asked, but you weren't exactly in condition for us to do so."
"No, it's fine," he said. "Marianne is here?"
"She is. She's out with Calleigh right now. She has to leave tomorrow, though, so I'm very glad you woke up today," his dad said.
"Matt?" he asked.
"No, Matt stayed home. He really wanted to come, but swim team training began this week and he's taking the SATs on Saturday, so we told him to stay home. He's been calling, and he wanted me to tell you he did really want to come, and he's sorry he's not here, and he hopes you're not upset with him."
He shook his head. "God, no. It's fine."
"That's what we told him, but he was pretty freaked out. We all were, really."
"Sorry," he said, wincing. "Didn't mean to make everyone worry."
"It's not your fault, kiddo. Don't worry about it. We're just glad you're going to be all right."
"Me too," he said. "How long?"
"How long has it been?" his dad asked. He nodded. "It's Friday, so about three days."
"Mm." He thought a moment. Three days was a very long time. "Where'd you say Cal was?"
His dad hesitated. "She's out with Marianne. She said she'd be here later this afternoon."
So, Calleigh wasn't at work. That meant…oh. "Eric," he said.
It wasn't a question and his dad understood that. "Yes, honey, they're at Eric's funeral. Calleigh didn't want you to be upset, she was going to tell you tonight, when it was all over. We were pretty sure you'd come around today- they found the right antibiotics yesterday. The Delkos really wanted to wait for you to be well enough to come, but one of Eric's sisters only had so much time off of work, and she had to get back home, so it had to happen today. There was just no way you were going to be able to leave the hospital today."
He nodded. "How much longer am I here?"
"We aren't sure yet. The doctors haven't decided," his dad replied.
There was a knock at the door before Tim could say anything else. "Hello?" A woman poked her head into the room.
"Hi, Dr. Kellan," his father said.
"Ah! He is awake!" she said, coming into the room. "I know, you have no idea who I am, do you? I'm Dr. Kellan. I put your jaw back together."
"She's the oral surgeon," his dad explained.
"Oh," he said.
"I see you've figured out the speaking through your teeth thing. You'll probably be able to actually talk by tomorrow. The swelling is going down well. I just stopped by to check on you and tell you what's been going on," she said.
He blinked at her. "I don't…"
"I know, you don't know anything. Here's the deal with your mouth- your jaw was broken in three places, and you had two teeth that were partially knocked out with damage to the roots," she said, pointing to a spot on her own face. "So what we did, since we had to extract the teeth and since there were multiple breaks, was use some plates and screws to reconstruct the part of your jaw that was broken," she explained. "We didn't want to wire your jaw shut because you'd have to drink through a straw, and you can't do that after you've had teeth extracted because it can cause dry socket, and you've got enough problems without having to deal with that."
"Oh," he said. "How long?"
"Recovery?" she asked. He nodded. "Well, the worst of the swelling will probably subside by the end of next week, although it probably won't disappear completely for a couple of weeks. Can't do solid food for two weeks, and then another two weeks on soft foods, and then we'll see about real food again. It's going to hurt to talk for probably a good two weeks, if not longer, but we're going to make you do it anyway, after tomorrow. You might have some numbness for a little while, because the nerves have to recover, but it should go away fairly quickly- we weren't near many of the major ones. And the kicker is, all of this will probably get derailed at some points, because we've got to do some more work on your mouth. We'll need to do implants for your two missing teeth, but I don't want to do those for a couple of weeks, to let things heal up some. And you're going to need some orthodontic work. Did you have braces when you were a kid?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No, thank God, he didn't need any, because we would never have managed it," his dad said wryly.
"Well, you're gonna get your chance now," she said, brightly. He looked at her warily. "It won't be so bad, I promise. We'll probably be able to put them on the inside of your teeth and no one will be the wiser. And if we do have to go the traditional route, they'll be a lot less clunky than what you're remembering from your high school days, I'm sure. It's going to be fine, really. But it's going to take about a year to finish all the orthodontics, and you'll likely be in some sort of retainer for three to five years."
"So, awhile," he said.
"Afraid so," she said. "There's something else, and this is the part everyone says you're going to hate."
"What?" he asked, warily. He had a sneaking suspicion this was going to be the work part.
"Well, you're likely not going to be back at work full time until after the first of the year," she said.
His eyes widened. "That long?"
"Yeah. No strenuous activity for two to three months," she said. "Now, that's both because of your jaw and because of the abdominal surgery."
"Oh," he said. "What did they do there?" he asked.
"I wasn't the surgeon for that, for obvious reasons, and I'm sure Dr. Barak will be in to see you at some point soon, so I can't tell you much, other than the fact that you had internal bleeding and they fixed it," she said.
He nodded. "How long here?" he asked.
"You're going to be with us for probably about a week. The infection is worrisome, because of the wounds in your mouth. If they get infected, it could go to your heart, and I'm sure you understand why that would be bad," she said. He nodded. "So, you're going to be on IV antibiotics for at least a week. We'll see what happens then."
"Ok," he said.
"It's a lot to take in, I know. I'm sorry to just info dump on you, but it seems to work out best when people know everything up front," she explained. "If you have questions that you think of later, I'll be available to answer them almost anytime, all right? Just let someone know, and they'll track me down."
"Thanks," he said.
"No problem. Now, quick question, how does your stomach feel?"
"Fine," he said.
"Ok, then, I'll give the order to take out the NG tube. That will probably make you a whole lot more comfortable," she said. "And with that, I will see you later. I'll come by to check up on you tomorrow, ok?"
"Ok," he said.
"Have a great night," she said as she left.
He looked at his dad. "So, two plates, now."
"Three, actually. I think they used two plates in your jaw."
"Two places, then," he said.
"Yeah, I was thinking about that when they told us what they had done. At least this time you're grown."
"No revisions," he said, nodding.
"Hopefully, anyway," he dad nodded.
He was quiet a moment, looking around the room. "Does it look really awful?" he asked.
"Well, you're not going to be winning many beauty contests anytime soon," his dad replied. Tim snorted, then winced. His dad laughed. "It's not really so bad. I can find a mirror, if you like."
He shook his head. "Not right now."
"Ok, then. Really, it looks better than it did when you were all bandaged up at first, so it's already improving. You've got stitches up towards your temple, closing up a gash there, and there's a nice neat line of stitches along your jaw, closing that up. They actually did the majority of the surgery through your mouth, but they had to close up the wound itself. You're pretty swollen, but even that's starting to look better than it did," he explained.
"Oh. Feels scary," he said.
"Yeah, I wouldn't take a spin around the nursery floor, but you probably look less scary than you think," his dad replied.
"Ok," he said. He was getting tired. "Sleepy," he said.
"Then go to sleep. Someone's been sitting with you all the time, so someone will be here when you wake up, even if it's not me, ok?"
"Ok," he said. "Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks," he said.
"You're welcome, Little Man. Close your eyes now," his dad replied. Tim nodded obediently and did so, sliding into a dreamless sleep.
