Not Letting You Go

Chapter 4

The ride up the elevator was quiet. Neither Donnie nor Alan spoke, each lost in their own thoughts. As the soft 'ding' indicated that they had reached their floor, the doors quietly opened. They made their way down the halls, following the signs to the Pediatric ICU. Rounding the last corner, they saw Margaret sitting on the bench outside the unit.

She glanced up, sensing someone else's presence in the hall. "Oh Donnie!" She stood, quickly making her way toward him. Donnie's pace increased to a near-run as he reached his mother, who immediately embraced him. "Oh God Donnie, I'm so sorry baby. I never meant any of it. I'm so sorry." She hugged him tight.

"It's okay mom, I know." He held her close.

She pulled back, gently taking his face in her hands. "Oh, baby, I never…" Her words were broken by her shuddering breath.

Donnie placed his hands over hers. "I know Momma, I know." She again pulled him into a tight embrace.

Alan, watched quietly from a few feet away for a moment, then silently stepped forward. "When can we see him?"

"I don't know, they've had him back there a while. Hopefully soon." Margaret glanced at Alan, then turned her attention back to Donnie. She had dropped her hands from his face, but only so that she could grasp one of his hands with her own.

"Mom you need to sit back down." Donnie noticed the exhaustion and worry on his mother's face. He saw the same look on his father's face, and suspected that it was mirrored on his own as well. He led his mother back to the bench she had risen from, sitting next to her. Alan settled on the other side of her. Again, together as a family, they waited for another set of doors to open; the ones that would allow them to see Charlie.

About twenty minutes later Dr. McDonald finally came through that set of doors. They all stood as he approached.

"Mr. and Mrs. Eppes. We have Charlie settled. We've got him in a private area and made accommodations so that you will be able to remain with him, as long as you don't interfere with the nursing staff and their work." The doctor's gaze turned toward Donnie. "You must be the older brother?" Dr. McDonald held out his hand toward him and Donnie shook it.

'Yes. Dr. McDonald, this is Donnie." Alan answered

"I don't know if your parents told you, but your obvious quick thinking is what has allowed you brother to survive this long." Donnie lowered his gaze. He had been feeling responsible for Charlie being here, all right, but not because he had saved his life with the CPR. He felt it was his fault that his brother needed it in the first place. The doctor noted the despondent look on Donnie's face. Not really being sure how to interpret it he turned back to Alan and Margaret. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you to Charlie's room."

In silence the family followed the doctor to a closed glass door. The curtain had been pulled at the entrance. "As you were told downstairs," the doctor started, reviewing Charlie's prognosis, "He will remain on the ventilator for the remainder of time it will take the drug to be flushed from his system, which could be from a day to a few days. We can't tell you for certain right now when Charlie might wake up. He will have blood work done about every six hours. As soon as we think it won't interfere with his breathing any longer, we will start to wean him off the ventilator. His blood pressure is lower than we'd like. However, that too is being monitored very closely. We also expect his heart rate, which is lower than normal, to slowly return as his system is cleaned out." He checked to make sure he hadn't said anything that they may have forgotten about. "Do you have any other questions?"

None of them spoke, each of them nearly consumed by his or her own anguish, desperate to see Charlie. Especially Donnie; he wanted to see and touch his brother, to prove to himself that he was indeed still alive.

"If you do have any questions later, the nurses can page me." With that, the doctor pushed the button on the wall, and they watched as the door soundlessly retracted. The nurse in the room held the curtain aside and allowed the Eppes access.

There were absolutely no words for Donnie to use to describe his thoughts or feelings as he watched the curtain being pulled back. In the bed before him was what seemed to be the smallest, stillest figure he had ever seen. Donnie was nearly a head taller than Charlie, and looking at him now, Charlie never seemed more like a child. Donnie was used to the annoying little brother whom he would find in his room going through his stuff, because according to Charlie-Donnie had cool stuff; or following him around the house begging to play basketball with him. Even when Charlie was sitting with his tutors at the dining room table, seemingly engrossed in a problem, he was still in motion; whether bouncing the pencil or pacing behind his chair as he thought. This though, this was so unnatural, for him to be so still.

Margaret and Alan themselves stood motionless for a moment, although each wanted nothing more than to rush toward Charlie. However, they had seen him downstairs and knew what to expect. This was Donnie's first chance to see his brother without the thought that he was dead. So they watched him.

They watched as Donnie suddenly paled. His eyes darted around the room, until he found what he was looking for. He rushed toward the trashcan and collapsed to his knees, throwing up all the food he felt he had ever eaten. He felt a soft touch on his back. He heard his mother's calming words, "It's okay baby."

Donnie closed his eyes, trying to regain some control of himself. He then slowly pushed himself up and stood, slightly shaking. A nurse had come into the room with a cup of water and a damp towel. He silently nodded his thanks. Rinsing his mouth, then taking a small sip, he looked sheepishly at Margaret. "I'm okay mom." he whispered, not really convincing his mother. However, Margaret stepped back giving him some space.

Donnie again turned to face his brother, slowly walking to Charlie's side. He jumped slightly when for the first time he noticed the mechanical rise and fall of his brother's chest. Donnie cautiously reached his hand out and placed it on top of Charlie's, careful of the IV that was leading to it.

"Oh God….He feels so cold." He looked at his parents. "Are you sure?" They both nodded at Donnie's unspoken question of 'are you sure he's alive?' Donnie then placed his other hand on top of the array of curls and lowered his forehead to touch Charlie's. He allowed a tear to escape as he closed his eyes. "Why Buddy…….why?"

After a few moments Donnie felt a soft touch on his back and knew it was his father. Alan had pulled a chair up behind Donnie and now was gently trying to get him to sit. Donnie never released the hold he had on his baby brother's hand. He glanced across Charlie and noticed that his mother had taken up a nearly identical position on the other side with Alan taking a seat next to her.

Over the next several hours as the nurses came and went, they watched. They watched as the Eppes family held vigil over its youngest member.

At some point through the night Margaret and Donnie gave in and allowed their exhaustion to claim them. Alan had managed to get Margaret to the small couch that had been provided for them, but was unable to get Donnie to leave his brother's side, even in sleep.

Alan watched the latest nurse complete her routine check of her patient. She smiled at him and left. Alan then stood up next to Charlie's bed. He looked at his baby boy. How had he managed to not notice that he was still a child? Charlie's intelligence was beyond anything anyone could possibly understand. Watching him at work you could easily forget that he was still a thirteen year old child. Lately, with all the college offers they had been trying to sort through, he had allowed himself to forget just how young and vulnerable his son was. Alan glanced at the side table and saw the now-closed notebook that bore the proof that they had failed him; that none of them had any clue to Charlie's true thoughts, feelings or fears. How could a parent miss that?, he wondered. How could you see your child everyday of his life and not really know him?

Alan looked back at the small still form. Charlie had never been so still in his entire life. Alan began thinking back to the first few months of his baby boy's life. He had never been a quiet baby either. Charlie had been born a month early, when Margaret had unexpectedly started bleeding in her eighth month. The doctors, for fear of her losing the baby, decided to induce labor and deliver Charlie early. They had assured Alan that the risks of an early delivery were far lower then the risk of the bleeding and possible loss of the pregnancy. So, Charlie came early. Even the few weeks that Charlie had spent in the neo-natal unit he was always in motion, even in his sleep. At first the doctors worried it was some type of seizure activity in his brain, but after several test he was declared a healthy baby.

As Charlie grew older he continued to fidget. Once his gift was discovered it was written off as his body's response to his brain; he was trying to keep up with himself. So for Charlie to be this still caused a shiver to go through Alan. Alan quietly moved the chair nearer to Charlie's head. Sitting down he carefully took his son's hand.

"Charlie, son, I don't even know what to say; except that you're wrong. You are normal. We love you son. I love you more then you apparently know. I'm sorry if I never let you know that enough." Alan cleared the emotion from his throat. "I have been in awe of you since you were born. Even more so since you were three. Yes, you frighten me sometimes with what you know, but never once have I ever wished anything different. I know we haven't been as close as I would have liked. You always responded better to your mother." Alan glanced at Margaret, still asleep on the couch. "Just know that I have always, always loved you. You and your brother mean more to me than anything in this world. I love you son, please don't give up on us. You're wrong to think we'd want anything any different. I'll tell you something else, your brother loves you immensely. You fight for him, do you hear me, you fight for Donnie. This is tearing him up. He misses you so much. We love you Charlie, you fight this for us." Alan reached up and kissed his son's forehead and leaned back in the chair. Exhaustion finally found Alan Eppes, but even in sleep, his hand never left his son's.

you fight for Donnie

We all love you Charlie