South Park

Nine Lives

Chapter 2 – Easier to Run

(Kenny's POV)

Yes, it was true, I had gotten released from the hospital, and I felt just fine too. The only thing was, as soon as I got home Friday afternoon, I noticed that my mom was being very emotional, and my father wasn't going off to get drunk like usual. There was this nagging feeling in the back of my mind telling me something was wrong, but I ignored it. Kyle, the bastard, had been kind (cruel) enough to collect some of the homework I had missed, and dropped it off at the house on the way home to his place. Rather than actually do it though, I followed him outside. My parents acting the way they were was starting to make the whole house feel cramped to the point of unbearably uncomfortable.

"We're going over to the lake," Kyle said as we were walking towards the bus stop to meet up with the other guys, "Stan's Uncle Jimbo just got a new boat, and we're gonna check it out."

"Sweet," I said softly. I didn't really care too much, mostly because with my track record, I would probably get crushed to death before we ever make it there. I smirked at the thought, and continued following until we reached the bus stop.

"Ah hell, where did they go?" Kyle said, looking back and forth down the street, "I bet they went on without us."

"It's not like it's that far," I said, putting my hands in my pocket, and starting to walk in the general direction of the lake. I froze, mid-step, just as a car went speeding by, narrowly missing me. "Come on," I said, un-phased. Kyle was staring at me, then his eyes followed the car that had just sped by. He shrugged and started following me.

It took us about twenty minutes to reach the lake on foot, and as Kyle had thought, Stan and Cartman were already there with Ned. "Hey you guys," I called out to them.

"Oh, hey Kenny," Stan said. His mood seemed a little brighter than it had when I was in the hospital. "So, where's the boat?" Kyle asked, but Stan only shrugged

"Leave it to somethin' big, shineh and expensive ta bring the poor guy off his death bed," Cartman said snidely.

"Shut up fat fuck," I snorted back. He balled his fists, "Na-uh, you can't hit me. The doctor said nothing too stressful, remember? I think getting socked by a fat-fuck might be too stressful for my fragile little body."

"Ey, stop callin' me fat!" Our laughter and his frustration was drowned out by the sound of a boat's motor, and we all looked out over the lake.

A large red and white fishing boat sped up close to the docks, nearly spraying everyone with water, and soaking me. Stan, Kyle and Cartman were all standing there in awe, staring back at the red behemoth, and I wrung some water out of my hoodie. Stan's uncle Jimbo was at the controls, "Hey boys," he said with a short wave, "Come on and get on the boat. We got plenty of time before dark to see what this baby can do."

"How the hell did you afford this Uncle Jimbo?" Stan asked finally, breaking the silence between us.

"It's called a credit card Stan, and about forty years of debt and interest payments. Now, come on." He maneuvered the boat so that we could get on, and then pulled away from the docks.

In no time we were speeding across the water, "She handles like a dream," Jimbo yelled over the sound of the motor and water. I had moved to the back of the boat and was watching the wake behind us, wondering if ever in the history of this lake had it seen anyone boating this insanely fast or reckless. Finally, after about ten minutes of stirring up the lake, Jimbo pulled the boat into a slower pace.

"Hey, what do you boys say we take a break for a minute," Jimbo said, opening up a cooler and taking out a beer. He tossed it to Ned, and took one for himself. "Sorry boys, I think you're still a little too young."

"You know what you guys, I heard that it's bad luck to have Jews on boats. That was why the Titanic sunk." Cartman said, "We should toss Kyle overboard before he makes this boat sink and we all freeze to death in the bitter cold."

"Shut up Cartman, the Titanic sunk because of an iceberg and faulty design work, it had nothing to do with Jews. You're just lucky you haven't sunk the boat yet, you stupid fat ass!" Kyle retorted.

Cartman stood up suddenly shouting, "I said don't call me fat, you damn Jew rat!" and didn't notice me next to the motor until I had already lost my footing and fell into the water next to the spinning blades. "Hehe, oops," I heard him say as I hit the cold, dark water. I let out a yell underwater as the propeller sliced into my left shoulder and arm, but luckily, I wasn't dragged further into the spinning blades. Hey, I'm not dead yet, I thought to myself as I got back to the surface. The water all around me was darkening red.

"Oh my God, Fat Ass killed Kenny!" Stan exclaimed.

"You bastard!" Kyle added.

"No, I'm alright," I said, choking on some of the lake water that was invading my lungs.

"See, I didn't kill 'im," Cartman retorted, "He's just fine."

"Hang on, Kenny, we'll get you out," Jimbo said and tossed a rope out to me. the rope fell about six feet short. I started swimming towards it, and heard Ned's mechanized voice, "I think you need a bigger rope," "Oh, never mind that Ned, see, he's swimming for it. Good job Kenny, now we'll just pull you out."

About 10 minutes, three close encounters with the propeller, two rocks, and a snapped rope later, I was back on the boat, thoroughly soaked and shivering. The propeller had cut up my arm and shoulder, but other than that I was fine. "We maeh have to take that arm," Cartman said with a snicker as Jimbo was doing his best to patch up the injury.

"Well, I think you'll be alright," Jimbo said, looking over his work, "but, it's getting' dark now, so hows about we call it a night boys?"

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The sun had already ducked behind the mountains as I was walking home, half my trek made in the dark. The air grew colder and I felt myself shivering under the thin, still slightly damp fabric of my clothing. "Ten to one says I'm sick in the morning," I mumbled to myself. My house came into sight, and I stopped before the tracks, just in time to watch a train go speeding by. I watched the train cars pass me, waited until it was clear and hopped across the tracks, "two, one," then looked over my shoulder in time to see the next train go shooting past on the opposite tracks. Hah! Nailed it, I thought to myself, and walked up to my front door. The door was unlocked, so I let myself in and quietly shut the door behind me.

Dad wasn't passed out on the couch or floor, and mom was no where to be seen. I stepped around the corner, and heard voices coming from my parents room, and I was going to ignore it until I heard my name and my mom sobbing. If mom was crying and they were talking about me, then maybe I could get a hint as to what happened. No one at the hospital had told me, so I figured this was my chance. I sat down by their closed door and placed my ear against the chilled thin wood.

". . we can't lose him again, not like this," I heard my mom say in between sobs.

"The doctors already said there is nothing they can do. Even if we could afford the treatments, it's terminal. There's nothing that can be done," my father said, his voice was hushed, but I could heard the aggravation riding it. they must have been bantering on like this for a while. Wait? Terminal?

"We can't lose him, we just can't. Two months isn't anywhere near enough time with 'im. There must be some way to save our little Kenny." I felt my whole body go numb.

"Well there's not, and I'm getting sick of going around in circles with you over this. I'm going out!"

"Fine, you do that. Go drink you fuckin' life away! But when you sober up and realize yer son is dead, don't drag your sorry ass back here cryin' ta me!"

I scuffled back, getting to my feet and ducked into my room, just as my father opened the door to their bedroom. He slammed the door, which nearly snapped it from it's hinges, and stormed off to the front door, swearing under his breath. I peeked out just enough to see him rubbing tears from his eyes. Then he left.

I stood in the doorway to my room for what felt like a short eternity, chills running through my body. I could hear the muffled sound of my mother crying, but couldn't bring myself to go offer any comfort. I felt almost betrayed. Before I even registered what I was doing, I was outside, my destination was no where in particular, and I was walking on auto-pilot and emotions alone. Hot tears were threatening me, stinging my eyes. Something is wrong with me, something is wrong! And they didn't tell me! My pace quickened until it was a run, my eyes were mostly shut and the world around me was just a blur seen through tear blinded eyes.

Part of me just wanted to curl up and cry away the pain, like my mother, the other part just wanted to run forever. That desire ended quickly however, as I ran blindly into a tree. "What's happening to me?" I choked out at the night sky, sobbing as I lay on my back in the light blanket of snow and pine needles. "Why won't they tell me?"

I lay there for a long time, finally getting too tired to cry anymore, and listening to the sounds of the forest and my own heart beat. By the time I finally forced myself back to my feet, I was shivering horribly, and I was partially numbed by the cold. My head hurt, and I had a bump where I had smacked into the tree, but I ignored it and started walking. I ended up at the hospital.

I stood there in the middle of the street, looking up at the building, a feeling of dread washing over me. "Well, it's now or never, you said you wanted to know what was wrong," I said softly to myself. I blinked and took three steps to my left just in time to avoid a screaming ambulance racing to the hospital. Inside was a lady who was covered in blood and unconscious. Her breathing was labored, and blood lined the breathing mask she had over her face. "Hey, get out of the way kid," one of the paramedics said gruffly as they carted her inside. I followed behind slowly, watching the doctors hover around her, and take her off to the ER.

"She's not going to make it," I said softly to myself. I snapped my attention away from what I had seen and walked up to the receptionist. "Is there any chance I can talk to Dr. Doctor?" I asked.

'Well, I'm afraid was just called into an emergency. What is the nature of your problem? Did you need to set up an appointment?" she said monotonously.

"No, I don't need an appointment, I just wanted to know what was wrong with me." I said quickly. "I was in the hospital just earlier today, 'cause I got sick on Tuesday. They didn't tell me what was wrong, and my parents are flipping out on me."

She gave me a skeptical, bored look, then frowned, "If you want to see the doctor, you'll have to take a seat in the waiting room," she said finally, directing me to some chairs.

"Bitch," I mumbled under my breath as I walked over to the seats she pointed out.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, I said I have an itch," I said over my shoulder.

"Oh."

I sat in the waiting area for a little bit, staring blankly at the coffee table littered with year old copies of Times and National Geographic, though not one of them had any pictures with topless tribal girls. After about ten minutes of nearly silent boredom, I noticed the receptionist leave her post with a coffee mug in hand. Behind the receptionist station was a locked room in which they kept all their files.

If I can't talk to someone, I could always just look it up, right? I asked myself, as I wandered over to the desk. I tested the door, finding it locked, then knelt down in front of it and pulled out a paperclip, magnet, and stick of chewing gum out of my pocket. The gum went in my mouth, and I went to work on the door. I quickly stuck the paperclip in the keyhole and tweaked it around a few times, then hovered the magnet on the side of the lock. After about half a minute, there was a click, and the door was unlocked. I slipped inside, and plastered the gum over the latch of the door to prevent it from closing all the way. No way was I going to get locked in a closet.

I turned and started looking for my name, McKormick, Kenneth. I pulled out the rather large and extensive file and laid it out on the floor. "Wow, they kept a record of all this?" I said, flipping through several of my childhood misfortunes, sicknesses and even some deaths. There was even a several page report on the incident where my heart was replaced with a potato and I exploded in the ER. I felt a chill run down my spine when I flipped to the last series of reports. The report for Tuesday was a small group of pages clipped together at the back of the file. I pulled it out and flipped through it. most of what was on the pages was doctor language, which I only knew a little bit of, but what I did get made me drop the pages. My hand firmly clamped over my mouth in an attempt to stifle the urge to throw up. It didn't work.

After a little while, I recovered enough to take a quick peek outside. The receptionist wasn't at her desk again, and I was able to slip out undetected. On my way out, I removed the gum wad, and closed the door silently, hearing the soft resonating click as the door locked on its own. I got out from behind the desk just as she came back. She was accompanied by Dr. Doctor, and another doctor, both were spattered in blood, and looking rather depressed. "There was nothing we could do," I heard the second doctor say softly. I paused for only a second, just long enough to look back, then I stepped through the sliding glass doors back into the cold night.

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