So, this chapter is definitely more intense than the last couple, but it needed to be. I had a lot of trouble writing it, so please, please review and let me know what you thought!
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I listened to the kid read to Soda and tried my best to look awake and alert. I knew Soda didn't care much about the book either, but since he wasn't up for doing much, he loved hearing Pony read. I'd tried to keep some humor in the room when I visited, but it was getting harder the worse Sodapop got. It had been two days since he'd started to get sick and he'd gone downhill fast. His cough had gotten worse and now he was spitting up green junk. His breathing had started out fine, but it hard gotten harder for him, so the doctors had put an oxygen tube in his nose. They'd hooked him up to a heart monitor too, just to be safe. He didn't complain, but we could all tell he was in pain.
Ponyboy had cancelled the jobs he'd had lined up and Darry had quit his job at the warehouse. He'd only done it after Steve had forced him to take some money, saying it was for all the food he'd eaten out of their fridge over the years. I'd heard Darry telling Pony they'd figure the bills out later.
These days, Darry only left the hospital for work or to grab food from the house, and even then Steve and I were usually the ones to bring the food to the hospital. Pony only left Soda's room to shower, eat, or have a smoke; otherwise he was at his brother's side twenty-four hours a day. There was a small cot in the room, but everyone was too stressed out to sleep much.
The door opened and Dr. Sheldon came in. Soda was getting checked by doctors every hour; Dr. Sheldon came as often as he could. I figured the odds were that Soda was his most serious patient right then. Ponyboy stopped reading and Soda looked wearily at the doctor, waiting to hear what the latest news was. "Any changes, Soda?" he asked as he checked the machines and IVs in the room.
Soda shook his head. "No, everything feels the same."
As Dr. Sheldon felt Soda's chest with his stethoscope, he frowned slightly. "Your breathing is still the same? It's not any harder?"
I saw Soda shoot a quick glance at Pony before looking back at the doctor. "No. Should it be?"
"Maybe," Dr. Sheldon said noncommittally. "I'd like to send you for another round of chest X-rays."
"Why?" Pony asked. "Is something wrong?"
Dr. Sheldon sighed and put his stethoscope back around his neck. "It sounds like there's more fluid in Soda's lungs, but I can't be sure without a visual. I might just be being overcautious."
"I'm sure that's all it is, buddy," I said calmly. Dr. Sheldon shot me a grim smile and left the room, sending a nurse in to get Soda for the tests.
While we waited for Soda to get back, we stepped outside for a much needed smoke break and some fresh air. As we lit up, I watched the kid stare off into space. I left him to his thoughts; my own were racing through my head faster than I'd like. I was a pretty good people reader and I could tell Dr. Sheldon didn't think he was being overcautious at all. I was pretty sure Pony thought the same thing, but we both left it for now, waiting for the test results before we got too worried.
"You wanna walk a bit?" I asked after we'd finished our weeds. It would be a while before Soda got back to his room and I needed to stretch my legs some. It was four in the afternoon and I'd been keeping the Curtis brothers company since the morning. Darry didn't like to leave them alone more than he had to, so Steve and I tried to make sure one of us was there when Darry was at work. Pony nodded and followed me down the pathway. He pulled out another weed as we walked and I looked at him seriously. "Pone, how's your guys' money holding up?"
"It's fine," he stated without looking at me.
"Kid, the truth," I pushed. He didn't answer and I grabbed his arm, stopping him so I could look him in the eye. "If you guys get into trouble with it, tell me or Steve, you hear?" Pony just shrugged so I pushed a bit further. "I know Darry won't take nothin' more, but he doesn't need to know."
"Yeah, okay," Pony mumbled. He pulled himself out of my grasp and kept walking. I knew he didn't want to take money from us either, but he would if he had to and he'd find a way to get it into Darry's hands without him realizing it.
We got back to Soda's room just a few minutes before he did and by the time Dr. Sheldon arrived, Darry had joined us, too. "I'm glad you're here, Darrel," he said, prompting us to all exchange nervous glances. "I assume you've been filled in already?" Darry nodded, so he continued talking. "Soda's X-rays show that the fluid in his lungs is the same, but there's now fluid outside of his lungs, as well. It's built up quickly and is likely a major factor in his difficulty breathing."
"Can you get it out?" Darry asked. I saw Soda close his eyes briefly; the poor guy looked exhausted.
"I'll put a chest tube in to drain the fluid. There's a good chance the fluid will keep building, so the tube will need to stay in." Dr. Sheldon turned his focus to Soda. "I'll give you an anesthetic to numb the area, but it won't take away all the pain when the tube goes in. If you want, I can give you a general anesthesia to put you to sleep during the procedure. The tube won't hurt once it's in, so you'd wake up with everything finished."
Soda shook his head vigorously. "No, I don't want the drugs."
We all looked at him, surprised. He hated needles, and he was turning down the option to be asleep while they stuck one in his chest? "You sure, Soda?" Darry asked. "You won't feel anything."
"Yeah, I know," Soda said quietly, looking down at his hands, "but I don't want to go to sleep."
We were all quiet as we realized what Soda was afraid of. "It's a mild sedative, Soda," Dr. Sheldon gently explained. "You don't need to worry about not waking up from it."
"I don't want the drugs," Soda repeated.
Dr. Sheldon nodded and turned to Darry. "I'll need you to sign the consent forms. I want to do this right away, before the fluid has a chance to cause his body any more stress."
Darry nodded and Dr. Sheldon left temporarily. Darry took a seat next to Soda and took hold of his hand, Pony following suit. I thought about leaving; medical procedures weren't something I enjoyed watching, but I figured that if Soda was going to insist on being awake during this, I could at least offer him whatever support I could. When Dr. Sheldon came back, he got right to work cleaning Soda's chest. Before he put the anesthetic in, he looked carefully at Soda. "Are you sure?" he asked again. Soda just nodded mutely, and the needle went in.
Soda kept his face completely calm. The only indication he gave that anything was happening was a slight flicker to his features. Dr. Sheldon made a small cut in the side of Soda's chest and got the tube ready to put in. I couldn't watch, so I kept my gaze focused on Soda's face. It was pinched tight in pain now as the tube was gently pushed in and I found myself wishing I'd left the room after all. I swallowed hard and reminded myself that I had no right to complain, not when Soda was sitting there taking all this in silence.
When his face finally relaxed, I chanced a look down and saw the thin tube sticking out of the side of his chest and trailing down to a machine below the bed. The machine was starting to fill with fluid and I realized I'd reached my limit on medical horrors for the day. I took a step towards my friend and gently squeezed his shoulder. "Sorry Soda, but I've gotta go get Magan. I'll come by to see you tomorrow, okay?"
"'Kay. Thanks for staying, Two-Bit." He gave me a small smile before I ducked out of the room. I hadn't exactly lied. My little sis was sitting at home and would be fine by herself for another couple of hours, but I suddenly thought she might like to go out for ice cream. It had been too long since I'd done anything meaningful with her.
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A coughing fit woke me up from one of my countless naps. I turned onto my side and tried to breathe through the pain that flared in my chest during these episodes. I never breathed a word about how bad it was; I just took the hands offered to me and held on tight till the coughs subsided. This time wasn't as bad as some of the others and when it had passed I was able to smile at Pony and Steve, who were with me today. "You need anything?" Pony asked me, and I shook my head at him.
"What time is it?"
"Almost five," Steve answered me. "Darry'll be here soon." Even though Darry couldn't do anything more than everyone else, I felt just a bit safer with him around. He'd always watched out for me when we were growing up, and he was still my protector. I looked sadly at my little brother and saw dark circles under his eyes. I wanted to tell him to go home for the night so he could get a real night's rest, but I didn't want him to leave. Besides, he'd ignore me anyway.
"I've got something for ya," Steve said, reaching onto the nightstand and showing me a card. He'd come in while I was sleeping earlier and must've forgotten about it till now. "It's from the guys at work." I took it from him and smiled at all the signatures. I wasn't especially close to anyone from the DX, but it was sure nice to know they were rooting for me.
"Thanks, Steve," I said, handing it back to him. He nodded and put it back in its spot on the table.
While we waited for Darry, Steve filled me in on the goings on at work. They'd hired someone to replace me, but he said Brad was willing to fire the guy the second I was ready to come back. He said it like it was such a sure thing that I'd get better.
As Steve kept talking I started to find it getting harder to breathe. It felt like there was a huge weight on my lungs that was pushing down, making it painful to get air in and out. I tried to ignore it at first, but after a couple minutes I knew I had to do something. I interrupted Steve in the middle of a sentence. "Get the doctor," I gasped. I found myself suddenly struggling for breath, the weight on my lungs doubling in size.
Steve immediately yanked the door open and yelled for help, then was right back at my side. "Soda?" Ponyboy's voice was shaking and I looked over at him. I could see my own fear mirrored in his eyes. Before either of us had a chance to say anything else a doctor rushed into the room. He pushed Steve out of the way, who moved around the bed to join Pony. The doctor took one look at me gasping, trying desperately to breathe, and called out the door for backup, which came in faster than I knew what was happening.
I kept struggling for air but now I couldn't get any at all. The room was spinning and I saw people moving around me in a blur. I looked around, frantically searching the distorted room for Pony or Steve, who'd both been shoved aside now. I was so scared and I wanted someone with me. Dr. Sheldon was standing over me and saying something, but I couldn't hear him. My chest felt like it was being crushed and with each futile gasp for air I could feel my fear building to the edge of hysteria. Why couldn't I breathe? How had this happened so fast? A needle was jabbed into my arm and everything started to get hazy. I fought against the darkness, scared of what it might bring. I tried to gasp out Pony's name, but no sound came out of my mouth. I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore but I didn't want to go to sleep. I was so scared I'd never wake up again. Against my will, my eyes closed. Something was shoved down my throat and I tried to lift my hand to get it out, but my arm was too heavy. I tried to open my eyes again but I couldn't. I felt the darkness trying to claim me and finally I couldn't fight it anymore.
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I stumbled back against the wall as Pony and I were both pushed away from Soda's side. I glared at the doctors, thinking that they could've let one of us stay with him. I could see Soda looking around fearfully and felt Pony move towards the bed, but I put a hand on his shoulder and he stood still again. We both knew we had to let the doctors do their jobs. One of them put a needle into Soda's arm and a second later his eyes closed. Right away, Dr. Sheldon started putting a tube down Soda's throat. I heard a soft cry from beside me and I squeezed the kid's shoulder.
We both stood silently frozen, watching Dr. Sheldon finish hooking up the ventilator and taping it into place. The heart monitor had been beeping erratically, but it settled into a steady rhythm as Soda's chest started to rise and fall again. I remembered my vow to get Soda better before he had to be on life support, and thought bitterly what a joke that had been. Here he was with a tube stuck down his throat, another one in his chest, and IVs and wires crawling all over his body.
The room emptied and only Dr. Sheldon was left, listening to Soda's breathing again. "What—what happened?" Pony asked. I still had my hand on his shoulder and gave it another quick squeeze before letting go. I was glad to have any company, even Pony's.
Dr. Sheldon continued his exam for another minute before answering. "I'll need X-rays to be sure, but my guess right now is that his lungs rapidly filled with more fluid and became very stiff, causing too much strain for his muscles to keep working properly."
"Will he be alright?" I asked hesitantly.
"I'm sorry, I can't answer that," he sighed. "We'll keep doing what we can, but medicine only goes so far. It's up to Soda to beat this." He quietly left the room and I moved closer to Soda, Pony following right behind me.
I gently picked up Soda's hand and started talking to him. "You hear that, buddy? It's up to you. I know you can do this. You have to keep fighting. You hear me? Don't give up, Soda."
Two nurses came in to take Soda down for the X-rays, which wasn't an easy task anymore with all the equipment he was hooked up to. Pony gently brushed his cheek before stepping back and watching him be wheeled away. For a few minutes we both just stood there. I had no idea what to say to the kid to comfort him; I was feeling pretty shitty myself after watching my best friend almost suffocate. The tension increased when Darry came in the room and I realized we had to tell him what'd happened. "Where's Soda?" he asked immediately.
"He's getting X-rays," I answered dully.
"Again?"
"Yeah. Listen Darry, there's something you need to know…" I trailed off, trying to figure out how to tell him.
"What is it, Steve? Is he okay?" Darry looked between me and Pony, who couldn't seem to find his voice, and I forced myself to spit it out.
"No, he's not," I said quietly. "His lungs stopped working. They had to put him on a ventilator."
Darry collapsed into the nearest chair and looked up at me despondently. "How long ago?"
"Not long," I told him, following his lead and sitting down. "Ten, maybe fifteen minutes."
He swore and I knew he was wishing he'd gotten there earlier so he could've been with Soda. Ponyboy suddenly moved towards the door and Darry put a hand on his arm to stop him. "You okay, kiddo?"
"Yeah," Pony answered, nodding. "I just need some air." What he meant was, he needed a smoke. Darry knew this too and let him go.
We sat in silence until Soda was brought back into the room. I saw Darry stiffen at the sight of his unconscious brother. Pony'd been gone for a half hour now and I realized Darry wouldn't be in any shape to look for him for a while. "I'm gonna go find the kid," I said. Darry nodded, but he didn't take his gaze off Soda.
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My hands shook as I took a cigarette out of my pack. It took me three tries to light it and when I finally did, I breathed in so deep I actually choked. I hadn't choked on a weed in years. Over and over in my head I saw Soda getting a tube shoved down his throat. I tried to convince myself that it was temporary, that the doctors would drain the fluid and take the ventilator out, but I knew I was lying to myself.
It took three smokes before my hands stopped shaking and one more before I felt ready to go back inside. I'd been planning on going to Soda's room to see if he was back yet but somehow ended up in a different part of the hospital. I slowly entered the silent chapel and slid into a pew near the front. I couldn't bring myself to pray—I knew I'd break down if I started to put my thoughts into words—so I settled for just sitting there, hoping that my presence in the chapel would be enough to get God's attention.
To distract myself, I concentrated on taking in the details around me. There was small alter at the front of the room with candles spread over it. A few of them had been lit by other visitors praying for their own loved ones. I wondered what they were sick with and if they'd get better. There was a small cross behind the candles, but not much else adorned the space. It was only meant to be a quiet place for people to go to and no one had bothered to make it look too fancy. Despite that, it was still comforting to feel like there was some sort of higher being out there. If Soda died, I wanted to think of him in heaven with Mom and Dad. I couldn't stand the thought that he would simply cease to exist.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I jumped when someone sat down next to me. I looked over and was surprised to see Steve. Darry must've sent him. "How'd you know I'd be here?"
He shrugged. "Lucky guess." He didn't offer anything else and for a long time we just sat there in mutual silence. It was strange to be sitting alone in a chapel with Steve Randle of all people, but somehow it didn't feel uncomfortable. The silence was so deep that I was startled when he spoke up again. "I know how scared you were, watching them hook Soda up to the ventilator. I was just as scared." I gave Steve a sidelong glance. He was staring at the front of the chapel with a sad, faraway look on his face and I realized he was telling the truth. He had his arms draped over the back of the pew we were sitting in and he gave off an air of not caring that we were in a chapel, but I was starting to get the feeling it was an act. We sat in silence for a while longer until he spoke up quietly again. "My grandma used to take me to church, every Sunday. She died when I was eight. I never went back, not till that one day you and Johnny dragged us there." He silently went up to the front of the chapel and lit a candle. He stood over it for a minute, then turned and walked by me and out of the chapel without another word.
I stayed for another few minutes and then slowly got up to leave. I didn't seem to be able to make my feet move very fast and I trudged through the hospital corridors. The past few months of worry and sleep deprivation were finally catching up to me and I felt like I could sleep for a year. I knew I wouldn't get any sleep tonight though, not with Soda feet away fighting for his life. When I got to Soda's room I washed up and was just about to head in when the door opened and Steve came out. He stood in the doorway, blocking it, and studied me. "Take care of him," he said softly, then headed to the elevators. I stared after him for a second, trying to figure out if he'd meant Darry or Soda.
Going into the room I found Darry sitting beside our brother, holding his hand. He looked up at me when he heard the door and I saw that his eyes were red and puffy. Had he been crying? I could count on my fingers the number of times I'd seen Darry cry. I decided not to mention it and instead just sat down and took hold of Soda's other hand. "Hey, Sodapop," I whispered. "We're right here, okay? Me and Darry are both right here."
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"I just don't see how you think it's okay to keep him in this situation, Alan."
I gripped the receiver harder and glared daggers at the telephone. "I don't see how you think it's okay to take him away, Diana," I growled. Diana was normally a good friend, but she was seriously pushing the limit on this case.
"When's the last time he slept in his own bed?" she asked harshly. "A hospital is no place for a fifteen year old to spend all his time."
"It's no place for a seventeen year old to spend all his time, either," I reminded her.
"Taking Sodapop out of his brother's custody won't make a difference," she pointed out. "His medical bills are paid for and the hospital is taking care of all his needs. It's Ponyboy I'm worried about. He needs a home he can go to that is actually supervised. I understand why Darrel is spending all his time in the hospital right now, but if he isn't able to provide a safe environment for his brother, I'm going to have to do it for him."
"Christ, Diana. Ponyboy wants to spend all his time here. These may very well be the last days he's ever able to spend with Soda. Are you really going to take that away from him?"
I heard her sigh and knew I'd gotten through to her. "Do you really think he's going to die, Alan?"
I leaned my head in my free hand and gave a sigh of my own. "I don't know, Di. I hope he doesn't, but it's not looking good. I had to put him on a ventilator this afternoon."
I heard a muttered curse word from the other end of the line. "Alright, I'll try to hold them off for a while longer," she agreed, referring to her superiors. For weeks now, as a favor to me, she'd been doing her best to convince them that the best place for Ponyboy was with his brothers and that taking him away would only scar him emotionally and would almost certainly kill Soda. The last thing that family needed right now was more stress.
"Thanks, Di," I said and hung up the phone. I looked at the lab results spread over my desk and swore. When Sodapop Curtis had come into the ER three months before, I'd been determined to cure his leukemia. I'd remembered the newspaper articles from September about his family and thought it so unfair that on top of everything else, these kids now had to deal with cancer. The odds were against him, but he was young and otherwise healthy and after all, didn't the universe have to have some sort of balance? Was it really possible that whatever God there was could take every single thing away from one family?
Whatever hope I'd had left had dissipated when I'd put the ventilator in. Despite all my efforts, his pneumonia had progressed to the point where he was on life support, and cancer patients didn't typically come back from that. I groaned and buried my head in my hands. It was so rare I ever got to save a life anymore.
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Forty-eight hours. For two straight days neither Pony or I'd left Soda's side for more than an hour each. I'd called my roofing boss and told him what'd happened. We couldn't afford for me to take time off work, but I really didn't care. I'd sell every damn thing in the house if it kept me with Soda while he needed me. Except for the necessary bathroom breaks, a couple quick showers, and the odd snack, we'd been sitting with our brother, holding his hands and talking to him. We weren't sure if he could even hear us, but it made us feel a bit better imagining he could. Dr. Sheldon had explained that Soda had to be kept sedated so that he didn't try to fight the ventilator. I tried to tell myself that at least he wasn't in pain this way.
Pony had fallen asleep with his head resting on Soda's bed. I'd given up trying to convince him to sleep on the cot that was in the room. He'd fought me every time I'd brought the topic up. In the end, he'd agreed to sleep there if I did it first and that had been the end of the conversation. The cot remained empty while we both had short naps in our chairs whenever we couldn't stay awake any longer.
Ironically, it wasn't the cancer that was killing Soda anymore. His blood tests were coming back showing huge improvements, but it wouldn't matter if he couldn't beat the pneumonia. This had been the biggest problem with other transplant patients; the procedure had gone fine, it was the aftereffects that killed them. For the past two days I'd been trying to stop thoughts of coffins and gravesites from filling my mind. Doing all that for Mom and Dad had been hard enough; I couldn't even fathom doing it for my little brother.
"Any changes?" I looked up to see Ponyboy rubbing sleep out of his eyes with one hand; the other was still holding onto Soda.
I shook my head. "No. He's still the same." I gently brushed Soda's cheek, making sure to keep my hand away from the ventilator. "C'mon," I breathed, "you can do this."
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It was so dark. I didn't like it. I wasn't afraid of the dark, not normally, but this blackness was just so solid and I couldn't get away from it. I knew Darry and Pony were with me. I could hear them talking to me sometimes but I couldn't make my eyes open. I was just too tired. Every so often I'd have the sensation of being in the hospital bed, but I could never get my body to do anything, and then I'd be back in the darkness. I'd figured out what was going on and I was terrified. I wanted them to take me off the sedatives; I'd keep the ventilator in, I'd make my body do it somehow. I just wanted to see my brothers.
It was getting hard to breathe, even with the ventilator. It felt like I had an elephant sitting on my chest and every time I took a breath, the elephant got heavier. I could hear Darry talking to me again, but he sounded far away. "Keep fighting, Soda. You need to keep fighting, okay little buddy?" I'm trying, Dare, really I am. But I'm so tired. The elephant was getting heavier and Darry's voice was getting further and further away.
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"We're here for you." I saw Pony give me a small smile as I pep-talked Soda. It was the only thing that had kept us going the past two days.
"Please keep trying, Soda," he added. I could hear the tears in his voice and I struggled to hold back my own. We needed Soda so much. He was the spontaneous one, always so full of life, but always there when we asked. He bound our family together. Pony and I were closer than we'd ever been, but neither of us would recover if Soda didn't. The reality of that hit full force when erratic beeping suddenly filled the room; my eyes snapped to the heart monitor. Even as I focused on it, the beeping turned into a single, endless wail and I felt my world fall apart.
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Reviews? Or should I run for my life?