Not Letting You Go

Chapter 5

Donnie awoke to the nurse gently touching his shoulder. "I'm sorry to wake you but we have to check your brother's IV. We also have few other routine procedures we need to take care of as well. Perhaps you would like to stretch your legs, maybe get something to eat, we won't be to long."

Donnie blinked at her a second, not only trying to wake up, but also trying to understand what she was saying. He glanced at Charlie, who's hand he still held, then slowly stood. The nurse had rounded to the other side of the room to wake Alan and Margaret as well. As the exhausted family made its way out the door, another nurse entered, carrying the supplies the nursing staff needed while looking after Charlie. She gave a soft smile as she passed the family reluctantly leaving.

The family moved to the bench they had waited on the night before. They had seen Dr. McDonald making his rounds, and decided to stay close, desperately wanting an update. About twenty minutes later he emerged from Charlie's room, and moved toward them. "Mr. and Mrs. Eppes…..Donnie? Right?" The doctor again shook everyone's hand.

"Alan, please." Alan corrected as he took the doctor's hand.

"How's Charlie?" Donnie spoke up. He wasn't interested in the pleasantries of the morning, he wanted his brother back. He wanted this doctor to tell him how long he was going to have to wait.

"Well I looked over the blood work from overnight and it's about where we expected. The drug still could take some time to get worked out of his system. Once that happens our concern will be any possible long-term damage it could have caused."

"Long-term damage?" Margaret found her voice, "like what?"

"Well, liver or kidney damage could occur. However, that is being monitored and so far we don't see any indication of that. We don't believe there was any damage to his heart, but normally thirteen-year-olds don't need to be resuscitated," Margaret paled, Dr. McDonald noticed Alan moving closer to his wife. "I'm sorry," Detachment was the doctor's coping mechanism. One he unfortunately had to develop over the years from seeing some of the terrible things that his patients and their families sometimes had to go through, he knew it made him seem abrupt at times. He continued, "Our two main concerns will be the chance of this being a long-term coma, which would be hard on his entire system, or the possibility of brain damage from the drug itself."

"WHAT?" Donnie couldn't believe the doctor was saying his brother might not be the same Charlie as before. "No, th..that can't happen. You can't allow there to be any brain damage. You…you don't understand how special he is!" Donnie was becoming extremely upset.

The doctor wanted to be reassuring, but he also knew the possibility of what could happen had to be told. "If there is anything, it will be the brains reaction to the drug." He looked sorrowfully at the family. "You have to understand, this drug was never designed for someone as young as Charlie. Clinical testing conducted with this drug has only been able to tell us so much. However, with the large dose the Charlie ingested, this will truly be a wait and see for us all." The doctor really felt for this young man before him. He was having a really hard time seeing his brother like this.

Don looked pleadingly toward his father. "No…..Dad…..tell him….tell him they have to fix this…..we can't let this happen to him." Alan had crossed over to Donnie and took his son in his arms, trying to calm him. Donnie's fear for his brother ran deep. The first thing Donnie thinks about when he thinks of his brother is his numbers, but his fear was about more than that. He was fearing that something else would be lost. The spark that he sees in his little brother's eye, the spark that tells him how much his little brother admires him. That no one is more important to his little brother than him. It was like the look Charlie would give him at some of his baseball games. Donnie was the teams power hitter and when needed was the one to knock home the winning run in the really close games. Once he would round the bases, listening to the sound of the crowd cheering his name, he would search the stands, looking for his brother's face. It would be one of the few times that Charlie would ignore his numbers and Donnie knew he had his brother's full attention. It was the spark of wonder from his brother's admiring eyes that he was most afraid of loosing.

"Donnie, we don't know yet….please son. Let's get him awake…..we'll deal with what ever happens then." Alan was feeling the same fear that his son was expressing.--not only the fear that Charlie's amazing gift could be lost, but that a part of what makes Charlie-Charlie could be altered. Alan looked at his eldest son,. "We will still have Charlie, no matter what happens. No matter how this turns out, he will still be our Charlie."

"Donnie, please," Margaret touched Donnie's arm.

Donnie looked at his mother. "Mom….Charlie?" The pleading in his voice was breaking his mother's heart. He was desperate for them to understand that they, that he couldn't loose Charlie to this.

Margaret's voice was breaking with emotion from seeing her eldest so upset. "Doctor…please is there any way to know when Charlie might wake up, so we'll know something?"

"As I said, it will take time for everything to be removed from his system. After that, honestly, it will become a waiting game." The doctor paused, taking in the family before him. Never had he felt for a patient's family this way. He could not understand why, with a family as concerned and loving as this one seemed to be, his patient had felt the need to attempt to take his own life. He desperately wanted to help this family, and give them a happy ending.

"I know I can't make you, but please, maybe you should go home for a while, rest, get something to eat. We can call you if anything changes. This is going to take time and in order to truly be available for Charlie, you need to take care of yourselves. I'll be back this evening with an update on his blood-work. Maybe I can give you better news then, but please, go home for a little while at least." With that he gave Alan a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and walked back down the hall.

Alan could see the wisdom in what the doctor had suggested. "He's right, I hate to say it but he's right. We should get some rest, something to eat."

"Alan?" Margaret began to protest but was cut off.

"No Margaret, you need to take care of yourself if you are going to help Charlie. Please?"

"Mom, I'll stay until you guys get back." Donnie stopped his father's attempt to protest, "Dad, please, I'll go home once you both come back. That way he's not alone." Donnie looked at his mom. "Mom, please, you need to rest. I'll watch out for him."

Margaret looked at her son, then placed her hand on his cheek, the same one, she remembered with a chill, that she had, in blind anger and fear, slapped. "You always have." She pulled him to her and kissed that very cheek. "I love you Donnie. Don't ever forget that. You found him last night before it was too late. You've always watched out for him. You're a good brother." She hugged him tight.

Alan also pulled him into a tight embrace. "I love you too Donnie."

"I love you both too." Donnie choked as they separated. Donnie then watched as Alan led Margaret down the hall, toward home. He turned back toward his brother's hospital room, never wanting to protect his brother more in his life.

The drive home was a silent one between Margaret and Alan, each lost in his or her own thoughts. It was late morning as they pulled into the driveway of the Craftsman they loved so much. It was a home that contained so many happy memories, but now was overshadowed by the terrible incident that occurred the previous night.

Alan got out of the car and came around to help Margaret. He opened the door, but she just sat there. "Margaret dear?", he whispered, reaching for her hand.

"I can't go in the front." She spoke so softly he had nearly missed it. "Not until we bring Charlie home through that door. I can't go through it without him." She looked at Alan, and he had never seen her look so broken. She knew it was only a door, but it was the door that a near lifeless Charlie had last gone through on a stretcher. Until she could walk her baby back in it, she would not use the front door of the house.

"We'll go around back." Alan held his hand out and she finally took it. Slowly they made their way around back and into the house.

Alan led his wife to the living room, not ready to take her upstairs. He wanted to see how things looked, to make sure any discarded trash from the night before was thrown away before she had to go up there. Margaret didn't protest when he led her to the couch, retrieving the blanket off the recliner to cover her. To his surprise she quickly fell asleep. He watched her for a moment; the events of the previous night had taken their toll on her, as he was sure they had on himself as well. Alan knew he should rest, but he wanted to take care of the upstairs first.

He glanced at the answering machine as he walked toward the stairs and felt his heart nearly stop. It was blinking, showing they had a message. He felt his insides turn cold, fearing something had happened to Charlie in the short time they had been gone from the hospital. He reluctantly pushed 'play'.

Beep

"Hey Alan, it's Stan. Where are you? When you didn't show up this morning we had to reschedule the meeting. You know it was an important one, call me and let me know what happened?"

Beep

"Margaret, it's Debbie at the office. We were supposed to meet by ten this morning to go over the notes for court today. Where are you girl? It's 10:30. Call me."

Beep

The messages ended. Thank God no hospital calls, Alan thought as he realized he needed to make a couple of phone calls that they totally forgot about. He went into the kitchen to get the list of numbers from the refrigerator. On the way, he decided to just tell everyone it was a medical emergency and that Charlie had gotten really sick. He wasn't going to go into any details. He retrieved the numbers and made the calls. Everyone was understanding, wishing them well and offering prayers. Alan felt even more drained, if that was possible, after the phone calls. However, he still wanted to take care of upstairs. So he grabbed a couple of trash bags and headed up.

As he reached the top of the stairs he stopped. How could your world change so drastically in a simple, normal place you pass through several times a day? However, proof lay before him. The discarded plastic wrapping for the tubing that was used to get much needed air into Charlie's still lungs. The covering for the needles of the IV that was started. The paper covering for the deliberator pads that were placed on his son's small chest to shock life back into a still heart. Alan felt his knees go weak as he allowed himself to slide down the wall of the hallway.

He had not yet allowed himself to think, to truly think, about what had happened. His family had needed him to be strong, but now, alone in the hallway where one of his son's died and the other helped to bring him back, he couldn't be strong any longer. His breathing hitched as he covered his face with his hands. Trying to remove the events of the night before from his mind would not be as simple as removing the evidence from his sight. Now, in this place that was the crossroads to his family's normal, everyday life, his emotions finally escaped. In the silence of the hallway he let the flood-gates open and Alan Eppes cried.

He had no idea how long he had sat there. He had never felt so emotionally or physically drained. When he was finally gaining some control of his emotions, he took a couple of deep breaths, to help calm the hitched breathing that had come with the breakdown. He slowly pulled himself up to his knees, opened the trash bag and began to discard the physical remnants from the hall, knowing all too well that the mental ones would undoubtedly last a lifetime.

Alan slowly made his way back down the stairs, the trash bag securely tied. He walked it directly to the trashcans outside next to the garage and uncharacteristically slammed it into the nearest can. Taking a moment he glanced around the yard, his eyes landing on the Koi pond. He remembered the day they had finally stocked it with the Koi; Charlie had been so excited. He had just turned four, it was a few months after his gift had been discovered. Immediately Charlie started sitting by the pond, watching the fish, getting excited when he picked up on a pattern one of the fish would swim. No one else really saw them, even when Charlie tried to point them out. His mind never understood why nobody else saw what he did.

Alan shook himself from his thoughts and walked back into the house, through the kitchen and into the living room. Margaret was still curled up at one end of the couch. Not wanting to disturb her, Alan sat in his recliner a few feet away. He leaned his head back, taking a couple of deep breaths, and then closed his eyes. Not since childhood had he spent much time in prayer. However, he felt if there ever was a time to offer a silent prayer, this was the time. He hoped, after all these years, God would still hear him and allow his son to return to them. He felt himself start to drift off and soon sleep claimed his exhausted mind and body.