Chapter 9
Alan frowned at the doctor. "Another CT scan? Why?"
"Something may have developed in the last 24 hours, since we did the first one. As I said, every time I check him, he seems to be lightening more."
"But…" Alan wasn't even sure why he was protesting. He was surprised, but relieved, to see Don coming down the hall.
"Son. Did you get some sleep?"
"I must have. I remember dreaming."
"How did you get here? You should have called, I would have brought you back for your car."
"Cab." Don looked from Alan to the doctor. "What now?"
"I was just telling your father that I'd like to do another CT scan this morning."
"Right away?"
"It will be a few minutes before I can order one and have him transported."
Don looked back at Alan. "You've been here all night again." It was a statement, not a question, so Alan didn't answer. "Ground Hog's Day. Get yourself to the cafeteria, I'll stay with Charlie until he goes down."
"I'll walk with you," offered Dr. Kildaire. "I could use some of that high octane coffee myself, this morning."
Alan hesitated, looking at Don. His son didn't look well. Don's face softened when he saw his father's concern. "Please. Dad. I'm okay." Alan finally allowed himself to be steered down the hall, and Don watched him go before he swung open the door and marched to Charlie's bed.
"Hey. Kid. Knock it off."
He actually saw some of that REM stuff they kept talking about. "Buddy. Come on, you're scaring Dad." You're scaring me.
He ran a hand through his hair. "You haven't got the right to do this. I know wherever you are, there's a blackboard and you're in the middle of P vs. NP. You fing promised, Charlie, and this is really pissing me off. What kind of birthday present is this? Take me to lunch and then you're out to lunch for two-and-a-half days? Get the hell back here."
Don stopped talking and paced to the window, then back again.
"I'm sorry. You know nobody can make me angrier than you can. It's why you were born. Mom told me that once. I can't even remember what you did…but I remember what I did. I slugged you, and she came unglued. She explained to me that a brother keeps a piece of your heart that no one else can touch, not even a parent. She told me to be careful with yours. Well, you be careful with mine, Charlie." This was a long bout of REM. "Do not make me hit you again, Buddy. I'm still bigger than you. I can do it."
Suddenly exhausted again, he sank into the chair. "Nothing is right about this. I need you to help me understand — or at least help me not understand, and be okay anyway."
The door swung open to admit the orderlies with today's gurney, and Don stood again to leave the room and let them do their work.
"How hard did you hit me?
It was hoarse whisper, croaked in a voice disused for too long, but it was enough to freeze Don, enough to make one of the orderlies grab the intercom and yell "He's awake!". Just like in the dream he'd had the night before, though, Don couldn't seem to make his feet work, and he stood five feet away from the bed and just stared, silent. He watched one of the men give Charlie something to drink, taking it away before Charile seemed to be done. His brother closed his eyes again and Don started to worry that this was all just part of the dream, but then the liquid brown pools popped open again, and locked with his.
"Did you hit me in the leg? My leg hurts." Charlie started to struggle a little to sit up, pushing feebly at the orderly closest to him, and Don finally felt himself move. He waited for the man to back off and then took his place at the head of Charlie's bed. His brother was trying to pick at the IV lines in his hand that tied him to the bed, and Don grabbed his hand.
"Hey, stop, you need that."
Charlie's breathing was shallow, speeding up, and he was still struggling, "I have to go. I have to get up."
"Buddy, just concentrate on me for a minute, okay? Try to make your breaths match mine. Take it easy. Look at me."
Charlie stopped his weak struggle, at least momentarily, but the confusion in his eyes tore at Don's heart. "You're okay. You're in the hospital."
"The hospital?" Don watched as recognition slowly dawned in Charlie's eyes, turning quickly to horror. He began to struggle again. "Let me up. Let me up."
"Look, Charlie, you've been here a few days, I think you may have to wait at least a few hours to get up."
The door swung open and Don heard something drop. He turned his head briefly, while still looking mostly at Charlie. His father. So much for the coffee. A nurse came in before the door was shut and almost took a header in the spilled drink. She looked at an orderly, who nodded. "I'll get a mop."
Alan rushed to the other side of the bed. "Oh, my G-d. Charlie. Charlie." He leaned over to kiss his son's forehead, ran a hand through his hair.
Charlie pulled back. "He won't let me up."
Alan glanced at Don. "It's all right, son. You just need to let some people check you out, first."
His son renewed his struggle, voice growing harder to understand. "Gotta find Megan." He looked at Don. "She's…She's"
"She's fine, Buddy, she's good. She was here to see you."
Now Charlie really looked confused, and he was trying to kick off the blankets so he could get up.
This time Alan grabbed both of his hands. "Charlie. Look at me." As soon as he had his son's attention, he tried to speak in his authoritative father voice. "You stop that, this instant." Charlie settled a little. "That's better. Let this lovely lady do her job, and then we'll talk about getting up." Charlie sighed, closed his eyes, and Alan was afraid to lose him again. "Besides," he added frantically, and Charlie looked up at him once more. "You might want to let them remove the catheter first. I'm just thinking. It could hurt to jump out of bed right now…and I still don't have grandchildren."
The ghost of a smile crossed Charlie's face, and Alan let go of his hands, straightened. Dr. Kildaire opened the door, stepped over the mop. He stopped at the end of the bed. "Well. I don't believe we're been properly introduced."
Alan continued to brush his hand through Charlie's hair, almost absently. "Son, this is Dr. Kildaire." He felt movement under his hand and looked down. Charlie was looking like he was at the bottom of a rabbit hole. "Honestly. That's his name. He's been taking care of you the last few days."
"How long?"
The doctor answered. "You had surgery late Wednesday afternoon. It's…" he looked at his watch. "Almost 10 a.m., Friday morning. You've been taking your time."
"Surgery?"
The doctor moved a step. "I'll explain all that, if the nurse and I can just have you to ourselves for a few minutes?"
Charlie looked first to his father, and then Don. "I want to see Megan."
Don nodded. "She wants to see you, too. Let's wait and see what the doctor says about visitors, okay?"
Charlie squeezed his eyes shut and shifted in the bed, unhappy.
"I'll see her soon. I'm on the way to the office…" Don looked apologetically at his father. "I have to go in, for a while. I can give her a message."
Charlie opened his eyes again. Don was always surprised by the expressiveness of those eyes, how easily they showed hurt, confusion, anger. Charlie couldn't hide anything, and now, he was sad, and staring at the ceiling. "I'm worried, that she's frightened. I know, it's Megan she's never frightened…but please…" he lowered his eyes to Don's. "Tell her not to be afraid?"
Don felt an uncomfortable tightening of his throat, and he nodded, spoke as briefly as he could. "I will."
Alan leaned and kissed Charlie's forehead again. "I'll be right out in the hall. Donnie will be back as soon as he can. Save some questions for later. These are busy people."
Charlie nodded, closed his eyes again, seemed to sink into the pillows a little. Don was having a hard time pulling himself away, even though his father had rounded the bed and was waiting for him. He thought about the immeasurable insanity of the last three days, about how this world would forever be uncertain, about what could have happened, what had happened. Instead of turning to leave, he walked closer to the bed. He leaned over and spoke softly into Charlie's ear. "I've got you, Buddy. You don't need to be afraid anymore, either. Remember, I have a piece of your heart that no one else can touch. I'll be careful with it, because Mom told me to, and because I love you. I'll see you later." As he stood to leave, he saw that Charlie's eyes were still closed, but again there was the ghost of a smile on his face.
