Chapter 3: Mercy
The door opened before I could knock. It took my mind a moment to process what I was seeing. Standing before me was my sister.
Faith appeared to be a few inches taller than she was when I saw her at Christmas. She was going through one of those growth spurts. Her hair was a bit longer as well. It had grown below her shoulders. She was beautiful, always had been and always will be me.
"Aren't you going to come in?" she asked.
That woke me up from my daydream. I had a bad habit of drifting off into my own world at the worst times.
I stepped through the doorway, and she hugged me. She did not want to let go, and I felt horrible. She and mom needed me, but I let them down.
"I am so glad that you are here," Faith spoke again.
"I am glad to be here," I replied. I held her tightly. For a moment, I felt as if I were the one clinging to her for once. "Where is mom?"
"She's in her room. She's been waiting for you."
I walked through the living room to the stairway. Jack followed me. He could tell that something was wrong with me. We spent a lot of time together so we could sense things like that in each other.
Everything upstairs was messy. The red carpet that had been so clean before was dusty and worn. The paint on the walls was fading.
Mom's room was at the end of the hallway. My room was the first one on the right. I almost went into it by mistake. Faith gave me a funny look.
"Instincts," I told her.
I walked slowly until my mind went back to mom. I hurried myself upon thinking of her.
I stopped in front of her door. I hesitated at the door handle and pulled my hand back. Faith gave me a pat on the back. Ever since we were children, she had supported me. I was reassured when she looked me in the eyes and smiled at me.
"Go ahead," she said, "it's going to be alright."
I smiled weakly at her and turned the handle. The door opened up revealing a room that I was very familiar with. Mom was laying on the bed with her eyes closed. I thought she was asleep at first. I made my way over to her.
"Mom?" I said quietly.
She opened her eyes. They were dark, darker than I had ever seen them. Even with the curse of death in her eyes, she looked happy. Her expression was comforting.
"Christian, I see that your sister finally reached you." Her voice was weak. She spoke slowly and quietly.
"I'm sorry. I have been really busy. My phone has been tied up lately." I was not trying to give excuses, but it was sounding that way.
I did not tell her about the call from Yale. She would have yelled at me for not going for the interview. Getting accepted into a major college like Yale was one of her goals for me.
"It is fine. I am just happy that you have been making it on your own."
"Trust me, it is not as impressive as you think it is." I laughed at myself a little when I said this.
"You are my son. You can be as impressive as you want to be." She took my hand and kissed it gently.
Faith was not the only one who had been on my side for my entire life. My mother never stopped telling me how special I was. She put both of her children on a pedestal. It was as if our few accomplishments made her the proudest woman in the world.
"Listen," she began again, "the reason that I told Faith to call you is that I need you to take me to the hospital."
"You can't take care of yourself here?"
"I can't take care of myself at all. I need to be somewhere safe. This house is not in good condition anymore. Your sister does as much as she can, but it is too big a job for her."
I looked at Faith. She looked distraught with herself. She was biting her bottom lip. No wonder she was so worn out. I could not imagine a fifteen year old girl trying to keep a place like that in order all alone.
I knew better than to argue with mom. She was on the verge of death. An argument would not have been the right thing for her then. Her heart was too fragile and too important to me.
I wanted to cry. The woman that I grew up admiring was in terrible pain, and none of us would be able to make it go away. It was obviously my fault. I was selfish. I should have stayed home when I noticed the condition that she was in.
"It is not your fault." Did mom read my mind? It would not have been the first time. On more than one occasion, she talked as if she knew what I was thinking before I said it out loud. I did not respond.
Faith and I helped mom get downstairs. Walking must have been painful. She tried not to grimace for our sake, but we could see through her attempt.
Time became slow at the bottom of the stairway. Mom did not want to leave yet. She felt incomplete without saying goodbye to a very important place.
"Wait," she spoke softly, "take me to the kitchen."
I was still not willing to argue with her, but any extra steps would be more hurtful than helpful. We went to the kitchen anyway. Mom leaned over the table and gave the room a long look. She was not satisfied with the shape it was in. I could tell by the look on her face.
"Take care of this house if something happens to me," she told me.
"I promise."
Within the next five minutes, we made it to the car. Jack followed us out, but I was not going to take him with us.
"Go back inside, my friend. We will be back as soon as possible."
He understood my orders and entered the house through the dog-door with his head lowered. He whimpered as I started the engine and left the driveway.
"Do you want to go back to Anne's Memorial?" I asked.
"That's fine, dear."
St. Anne's Memorial Hospital was something of a safe haven for mom. It was built before she was born, and everyone from our area had been using it. This would be my sixth visit in eight years.
The first was my fault, sort of. I broke my arm when I fell out of the oak tree. That is the way that the story was told, but I remembered it a little differently. My instincts told me that I was pushed.
Those aggravating friends of my sister's did it. Conveniently, they were the friends that no one could see. Faith even apologized after it happened. Her apology confirmed my suspicions.
The other visits to Anne's Memorial were on account of mom. Ever since she was diagnosed, she had been going on and off. She went every time that the pain flared.
Our ride to the hospital was not the same as most of the rides in my car. I turned off the radio. Disturbing rock music would certainly not make mom feel any better. The hospital was only a fifteen minute ride from home so I did not take the time to find anything else on the radio.
Anne's Memorial was huge. It was not so much bigger than the average hospital, but it was still easy to get lost there. Unfortunately, I had not spent enough time there to have it figured out.
As we pulled into the parking lot, I lost my confidence. I began to doubt that even being at the hospital would help mom heal. I needed to distract myself.
"Was it this big last time?" I asked Faith. Of course it was the same size, but I made like I had forgotten.
"Yes," she replied, "where has your memory gone?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
We helped mom out of the car. She tried to pull away and walk on her own, but we did not let her. The sliding doors as the front of the building helped her get inside without getting hurt.
The doors opened up into the visitor's check-in room. The walls were painted a soft, light blue color. A small fountain was in the center of the room to the right of the front desk. Faith helped mom into a chair in the waiting area while I took care of things at the front desk.
A polite looking receptionist smiled at me from behind the desk.
"How may I help you?" she asked.
"My mother needs a room in the Patient Building. She isn't feeling very well," I answered.
"Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Do you have a specific doctor that you would like to see her during her stay?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Well, you can take care of all of that on this form."
She handed me a small pamphlet to fill out. I scanned it over. It had basic information as well as treatments, allergies, previous visits, etc. I'd watched mom fill this out a few times, but I was old enough to do it for her this time.
I went to sit down next to Faith and my mom. Faith was watching a television in the corner of the room, and mom was resting her eyes. I took my time with the form. I signed her in to stay in the Patient Building for monitoring. I knew which doctor to request.
In the past few visits, mom had become close to a young doctor. His name was Alan Lopez. He was part Latino. She liked him because he had something in common with her. He was a big believer in God. Alan was about forty years old, but he looked much younger. He had a charm about him. Faith and I even liked him.
I filled out the form and walked back up to the desk to give it to the receptionist. She was taking a phone call, but she motioned for me to stay there. I waited for a moment for her to finish talking.
"Thanks you for filling this out. I will call Doctor Lopez right now and have him come talk with you while the computer processes your information."
We did not have to wait around long. Apparently, Doctor Lopez was not busy with patients or other business. He came from behind a screen door that I assumed led to his office.
"Well, it is nice to see my friends again. How is everyone today?" His Latino accent was cheerful.
"Not great," I replied, "mom needs for you to take of her in the Patient Building. She is hurting."
"What is wrong Miss Sharp?" he asked, now looking at my mother.
"It is time, Alan." I had never heard her refer to him as just Alan before, but he did not seem to mind. He gave her a nod of understanding.
"I see. Well, I will make sure you have a comfortable room. You will have to stay here until the computer gets you registered. Would you like me to stay with you?"
"No thank you, but we will have someone call you if we need you." Mom gave him a half-hearted smile.
"Ok, Miss Sharp. Take care of yourself and don't hesitate to let me know if you need anything."
He walked back through the same screen door as before.
"We have some time to kill," I said, "it may be awhile before you are assigned to a room."
"Your sister is probably hungry," Mom replied, "take her to the cafeteria for some lunch."
I had not even thought about lunch. I glanced down at my watch. It was 1:15 p.m.
"I'm fine," Faith said, but she looked famished. I remembered what mom said about her doing all of the work around the house. I would be starving too if I had to keep that place in order.
"Faith, you need to have something for lunch," Mom told her.
"I am getting a little hungry myself," I added.
We convinced Faith that she needed to eat something, but mom elected to stay behind and rest. I turned my cell phone on so she could call from the waiting room if she needed us. I told the receptionist to keep an eye on her.
I was not sure exactly where the cafeteria was, but I went by the signs on the walls. They pointed to different vicinities in the hospital. I asked a janitor which way I should be going because I could not find the way even with the signs.
"Take the elevator down to the bottom floor," he said.
"I thought that this was the bottom floor," I replied.
"No, the hospital is built on a hill. The first floor is like a basement. This is technically the second floor."
I had not paid enough attention to realize it, but he was right. From the rear entrance of the building, it would have been easier to notice, but we were definitely on the second floor.
"Thank you, sir."
We found our way to the elevators, and I pressed the down button. We did not wait very long for the doors to open. We stepped inside and were joined by an older gentleman.
"Where to?" he asked.
"First floor," I answered.
He pressed the 1 on the button panel. I noticed that the hospital had a total of eight floors. That did not include the rooms in the Patient Building across the street where mom would be staying. I was happy that she was not going to be in this building. I would have gotten lost for sure.
"Which of you are sick?" the gentleman asked.
"Neither actually," I replied, "we are with our mother. She has cancer."
"I'm sorry to hear that." He had a nice suit on. He was not a worker from the hospital, because he was not wearing one of the outfits that the rest of them had on. "I am having a cat scan done."
He looked tired. He may have been waiting for a long time. The hospital was so cluttered up with patients that it was normal to have to wait awhile to have something done. Still, a cat scan seemed like one of the more simple tasks.
The elevator door opened with a ding.
"Nice meeting you folks," the man said.
We went ahead down the hall. He should have gotten off with us. There were no floors lower than the first so he had nowhere else to go, but he remained in the elevator anyway. I ignored it.
I saw a sign which said to go right to reach the cafeteria. The halls were too confusing for a sign to be of much help in that place. I trusted my gut and took the path that I thought looked most reasonable.
"Any idea if we are going the correct way?" Faith asked me.
I stopped and adjusted my glasses. "Not a clue, but we will find it eventually," I replied.
I saw another reception counter at the end of the hall.
"Do you think we should ask which way to go?" Faith asked again. She had a good point. I was decent at several things, but my sense of direction was horrible. I approached the desk.
"Which was is the cafeteria?" I asked the receptionist.
"That would be right across the hall, young man," she replied. She pointed to an open door with a big sign that said HOSPITAL CAFETERIA. Naturally, I would miss that, but I smelled the food now. I should have been using my nose instead of my eyes.
"Thank you."
We navigated our way across the hall. People were flooding us from all directions. The cafeteria was obviously one of the more popular attractions there. Faith grabbed my hand before we got to the door. It was a good idea. I did not want for her to get lost, especially not here.
Upon entering the cafeteria door, the smell of food surrounded us. I had to admit, I was not a huge fan of cafeteria food, but I was hungry. Just then, I spotted a small sub station in the corner of the room. I convinced myself that if anything there would taste good, it would be a sub sandwich. Faith noticed it before I did. She was pulling me that way.
We both ordered turkey and cheese, but Faith's was a six inch. A six inch would not have satisfied me at that time. We ate them passionately.
As I was wiping my mouth with a napkin, the cell phone rang. Mom was on the phone in the waiting room.
"Christian, call Carol and have her feed Jack while we are gone."
I had forgotten all about him. There was no telling how long we would be there, and he needed someone to feed him. Aunt Carol always took care of Jack while we were away from home .
"Thanks for reminding me," I said, "I will call her as soon as we are finished eating."
"Also, you need to go across the street and check into a hotel. I know that the both of you will not be able to stay in the Patient Building with me all night."
"Are you sure, Mom?" I mean, Faith could stay with you. I could go back home and come back tomorrow."
"No, she needs you to stay with her. She does not need to sit up all night waiting for me to feel better. She has been putting up with me for awhile like this."
"Ok. We will come back to the waiting room, and I will leave Faith with you. Then, I will go across the street."
"Sounds like a plan. See you in a bit."
"Bye."
"Mom?" Faith asked after I hung up the phone.
"Yes, she is still waiting. She wants us to check into a hotel room across the street for the night. We can't both stay in the Patient Building all night with her. It is a good idea."
She became quiet. I could tell that she was thinking pretty hard about something. I settled on staying the night in a hotel and checking on mom in the morning.
I made a point to call Aunt Carol before I left the cafeteria. She was devastated to hear about mom. She wished her the best and promised to look after Jack until we got back. She also made me promise to call every night to give her status reports.
After my phone call, we found our way back to the waiting room. Mom was asleep in the chair. I checked my watch. 2:30 p.m.
"They should have gotten a room ready by now," I complained. I figured this would be a good time to check on the hotels.
"Stay here with mom; I am going to reserve a room for us across the street," I said to Faith.
"No, she is asleep. Take me with you," she argued.
"There would not be much point in you coming with me. It won't take very long."
"Christian Sharp, you will take me with you, and that is final."
Her deep, blue eyes convinced me to let her go. At least we could keep one another entertained. She had a way with people, and it could have been useful to have her with me.