Thankfully, the second pig-heart transplant had taken place at Dr Bryce’s clinic so I was no longer the sole focus of attention. It made what I was doing easier. It was simple really. I had some problems of my own to sort out.
‘Marlon, could you cover for me again tonight?’
‘You’re not going swimming again, are you?’ Marlon asked, upset.
I could tell he wasn’t happy with me for the position I was placing him in. Every day for the last week I’d phoned my mum to tell her I was going to his house after school. Then, after my swim, I’d go to his house for ten minutes or so, then phone for Mum or Dad to come and pick me up. I knew that sooner or later I’d be found out, but with a little luck it would be later.
I’d suddenly become obsessed with swimming. Well, not so much with swimming as with Daredevil Diving. I still hadn’t made it to the bottom of the pool, but I was going to. I was determined. I had no idea why it was so important to me, but it was. It was as if, by touching the bottom of the pool, I’d be proving something to myself and the rest of the world. Only I had no idea what.
‘Cam, you can’t keep doing this. You can’t go to the leisure centre every evening.’
‘Watch me,’ I said.
‘But suppose someone sees you?’ Marlon said unhappily.
‘So what? Besides, things are back to normal now. The crowds have gone from outside our house. Our phone’s been plugged back in. Nan’s gone home. Why should everything else be allowed to return to normal except my life?’ I argued.
‘Going swimming after school every day isn’t normal unless you’re training for the Olympics,’ said Marlon. ‘And you won’t even let me come with you.’
‘You’ve got to stay at your house just in case my mum or dad phone,’ I said.
‘Sooner or later they’re going to twig. Grown-ups are stupid but they’re not stupid all the time.’
‘I know. But I’ll have finished by the time Mum and Dad catch me.’
‘Finished what?’
I didn’t answer. ‘So will you cover for me?’
‘You know I will.’ Marlon replied.
‘Of course I know you will.’ I smiled at Marlon. ‘’Cos I know I can trust you.’
Marlon smiled at that but the frown didn’t take long to return to his face.
‘Marlon and Cameron, would you like to stand up and share your conversation with the rest of the class?’ asked Mr Stewart. ‘I’m sure we’d all be fascinated to hear what’s so riveting that you have to speak while I’m trying to teach.’
I said the first thing that came into my head. ‘I was asking Marlon if he’d written a poem for his English homework.’
‘And had he?’
‘No, sir.’
‘And have you?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Let’s hear it then,’ said Mr Stewart.
I stared at him. ‘Er . . . It’s not really finished yet.’
‘Doesn’t matter. Let’s hear it.’
‘It’s not very good.’
‘Let’s hear it.’
‘Sir, It’s dire!’ I admitted.
The rest of the class tittered at that.
‘I’m even more intrigued now. Get it out,’ said Mr Stewart. I scowled at him but he wasn’t going to change his mind. Reluctantly I dug into my desk. I couldn’t believe he was really going to make me read it out. I always knew he was a sadist and here was my proof.
‘Sorry, sir. I must’ve left it at home,’ I lied. No way was I going to read out my first attempt at my homework. It was a poem about a butterfly, for goodness’ sake. No way was I going to read out anything so weedy.
‘That’s a shame. I’ll have to make sure I ask your English teacher to show me this amazing poem worthy of all that discussion just now,’ said Mr Stewart.
‘Sorry, sir,’ I mumbled.
Mr Stewart got on with the rest of the lesson. Me? I couldn’t wait for the lesson to finish. I was desperate to leave and go swimming. Under the water nothing and no one could touch me. Nothing could trouble me. Thank goodness this was the last lesson of the day. As soon as the buzzer went I would make sure I was the first one out of the classroom. In fact the others wouldn’t be able to see me for dust. One of the advantages of having a new heart – even if it was from a pig: it made me healthy enough to get out of the class in a hurry.
Take a deep breath, I told myself. And another. And another. Now go!
I struck out for the middle of the pool, kicked back with my legs and dived. Kick, kick, kick. Down, down, down. The water stung my eyes and the further down I went, the more it felt as if giant hands were wrapped around my chest and squeezing. But I kept going. I could see the bottom. Just a little further. But from the pounding of my heart and the raging of the blood in my head, I knew I’d have to turn back now or I wouldn’t be able to turn back at all. Cursing my weak body, I headed back up towards the surface of the water, desperately disappointed. Would I ever make it to the bottom? I was beginning to wonder. But I had a more immediate problem – the surface of the swimming pool looked as if it was miles away. I kicked harder, forcing myself to go faster. I broke through the surface of the water just as I thought my lungs must surely burst. I tried to float on my back, but my body was having spasms from trying to drink down air into my starved lungs. I swallowed some water and started coughing and spluttering as I tried to clear my mouth. I twisted round, forcing myself to float, forcing my body to calm down. My heart, which had been racing so fast it seemed to consist of just one continuous beat, began to slow down. But I had a pain in my left shoulder and the left side of my neck. I felt sick and my lungs were hurting and the pain didn’t ease as I began to breathe more normally. I made my way to the side of the pool and hauled myself out. Even that was a major effort. I was so tired. I went back to the changing rooms, had a shower and decided to head straight home.
By the time I put my front-door key in the lock the pain in my shoulder had passed, but I still felt a bit sick. I’d been feeling vaguely nauseous for a few days now and it was getting worse, not better. As I closed the front door behind me, I could hear one of Mum’s favourite Lenny Kravitz songs playing softly from the living room. I tiptoed to the living-room door, which was open. I peeped through the crack between the door and the door-frame. Mum was sitting on the sofa with her feet up on Dad’s lap and Dad was massaging her toes – again!
‘That’s very relaxing.’ Mum smiled at Dad. ‘Alex has stopped kicking me and gone to sleep.’ She patted her bulging stomach.
‘I can’t believe I’m massaging your smelly toes again. You are such a smooth talker!’ said Dad in his lovey-dovey voice. ‘You could talk the man in the moon into giving you a green cheese sandwich!’
‘I don’t want the man in the moon. I just want you.’ Mum smiled, making me want to throw up!
‘What is it with you two and toes?’ I asked, going into the room.
Mum frowned. ‘What’re you doing here? I thought you were at Marlon’s?’
‘I was. I decided to come home by myself.’
Mum swung her feet off Dad’s lap. ‘You came home by yourself?’ Her voice was sharp.
‘Yes, I did – and nothing happened,’ I replied.
‘Cameron . . .’ I could tell Mum was winding up for a mega-rant.
‘Cathy, you can’t spend the rest of your life hovering over Cam like a hawk,’ Dad said gently. ‘Sooner or later he’s got to start doing things for himself again. You can’t do everything for him.’
‘I’m not trying to. I just . . .’
Dad smiled and with that smile Mum’s voice trailed off.
‘Are you OK?’ she asked me at last.
‘I’m fine,’ I lied. My nausea hadn’t passed but I wasn’t about to give Mum an excuse to smother me again. I wished Nan was here. I badly wanted to talk to her. ‘Mum . . .’ I began.
The doorbell rang.
‘I’ll get it,’ I said.
‘No,’ Mum said at once, ‘I’ll—’
&
nbsp; ‘Cathy . . .’ Dad admonished gently. ‘The crowds have gone, the police have gone and most of the letters have stopped. We can’t spend the rest of our time in this house hiding and living in fear.’
I saw Mum take a deep breath. ‘I thought you were going to open the door,’ she snapped.
I smiled. I knew the snap wasn’t directed at me. Even if I lived to be ninety, Mum would still be fussing over me. I went back out into the hall, thinking how nice it was to walk into the house and not hear a major argument going on between Mum and Dad. Things seemed to be working out after all. I opened the front door.
‘Dr Bryce!’ I said, surprised. ‘We only saw you a week ago. You’re not due again until after Christmas.’
‘I need to see you and your parents,’ Dr Bryce told me, with no trace of a smile.
One look at his face and I could see it was serious. Without a word, I stepped aside. Dr Bryce came into the house and headed straight for the living room. I closed the door slowly behind him. I stood out in the hall for a few moments. I didn’t want to go into the living room. I was afraid of what I would hear. Maybe if I stayed out in the hall, then whatever it was wouldn’t be about me and wouldn’t affect me. But it didn’t work that way. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t go away just because I wanted to do my ostrich act and bury my head in the hall carpet. I walked into the living room.
Mum and Dad were sitting on the sofa with Mum’s feet now firmly on the ground. Dr Bryce was in the armchair. They all watched me as I sat down next to Dad.
‘I’ve got some bad news.’ Dr Bryce didn’t even attempt to beat about the bush. He turned and looked directly at me. ‘To put it simply, Cameron, your white blood cell count is way up.’
‘My T-cells or my B-cells?’ I asked.
Dr Bryce was too worried to be impressed. ‘How much do you know about the way your immune system and your white blood cells work?’
‘Only what we’ve done in biology and what I’ve read in books and over the Internet,’ I admitted.
‘Hang on. What does all this mean exactly?’ Dad asked quietly.
A deep silence filled the room. ‘It means—’ Dr Bryce began.
‘It means that maybe my body is starting to reject my new heart,’ I interrupted, never taking my eyes off the doctor.
‘Not necessarily. It may just mean that we need to rethink the dosage and content of your anti-rejection and immuno-suppressant drugs. The trouble with all these drugs is that it’s a fine balancing act between what and how much of each drug you should get.’
‘I thought you said you’d developed a new drug, a complement blocker that would stop Cameron’s body rejecting his heart.’ Mum’s expression was stony.
‘We have. I think, I hope we just need to amend the dosage. Cameron, I’ve brought you a new series of injections which I’d like you to start taking immediately. I’ll take the old ones back with me.’
‘More injections.’ Mum said, dismayed.
‘We’ve reached a deal with a pharmaceutical company only this week. They’ve agreed to start manufacturing the drug in tablet form from the New Year. We don’t have the resources at my clinic to do that, so hopefully the injections won’t be for too much longer. Cameron, I also want to change the immuno-suppressant tablets you’re taking. I think we need to be more aggressive.’
‘Will all this work?’ I asked.
‘It’s impossible to tell. All we can do at this stage is monitor you closely, and keep fine-tuning the dosages of the various drugs you need to stop your body rejecting your new heart.’
Dr Bryce dug into his large briefcase and brought out a clear plastic box full of vials. ‘We don’t want your body to reject your new heart but at the same time we don’t want to leave your immune system so weak that you couldn’t fight off a cold if you caught one.’
‘I understand.’ I nodded.
‘How have you been feeling, Cameron? Have you been feeling more tired than normal? Or maybe a bit ill?’
‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘I’ve been feeling fine. Great in fact.’
‘Hhmm!’ Dr Bryce studied me. ‘I think I should go back to seeing you weekly rather than monthly.’
‘But what about my fortnightly check-ups at the local hospital? D’you still want me to go there as well?’
‘Yes, I think so. I’ll speak to the hospital. I also want to change a few of the tests you regularly have.’
I shrugged. ‘OK. If you think I should.’
‘I do,’ Dr Bryce replied.
‘Well, I’d better go upstairs and get on with my homework,’ I said, jumping to my feet.
No one told me to stay, so I didn’t. I left the room and forced myself to run up the stairs, even though I was dog-tired. When I got to my room, I chucked myself down on my bed, gasping for breath. My heart was pounding again. I told myself that the stairs weren’t responsible for my racing pulse, it was Dr Bryce’s news – but I knew that was only partly true.
I thought of Alex downstairs waiting to be born, but the thought hurt. So I turned my thoughts to the swimming pool at my local leisure centre instead.
‘I’ll make you a deal,’ I spoke to my new heart. ‘I’ll play Daredevil Dive just one more time. If I manage to touch the bottom of the pool then you have to stay inside me and not cause any more trouble. And you . . .’ I spoke to the rest of my body. ‘And you have to leave my heart alone and let it get on with pumping my blood around my body. OK, everyone? I’ll try to touch the bottom of the pool just one more time. And if I manage it, then we all live together until we’re ninety. Agreed?’
It was agreed.
I’d go to the pool after school tomorrow. I was in control once again. Not my body, not my heart – but me. All I had to do was touch the bottom of the pool. My future was now back in my own hands.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Losing
‘Marlon, I still don’t know why you’re here,’ I said crossly.
Today of all days, I didn’t want any company while I swam. Today was too important. I was scared but determined. Touching the bottom of the pool was like tossing a coin. Heads I win. Tails I lose.
‘I like to swim occasionally too,’ Marlon replied.
‘But it’s not even Tuesday. You and the others only ever come swimming on a Tuesday.’
Marlon smiled at me. ‘There’s no law that says I can’t come swimming on a Thursday instead.’
I was about to argue but I thought better of it. If I protested too much, Marlon might realize that I was up to something. But I was still annoyed. I bundled my bag and my clothes into a locker and banged it shut.
‘So what’ve you been doing here every afternoon, anyway?’ asked Marlon as we both made for the pool.
‘Just kicking about and swimming. I’ve been trying to build up my strength and stamina. Swimming is brilliant exercise,’ I replied, in what I hoped was an off-hand manner.
‘Fancy a race? Just a width but underwater?’ Marlon challenged.
Under normal circumstances I would’ve snatched his hand off, but these were hardly normal circumstances. I didn’t want to waste any of my energy on a race. I knew I didn’t have that much energy to spare.
I smiled. ‘Maybe later.’
I sat down at the edge of the pool and slipped into the water. It was cool, verging on cold, and made me gasp. I held onto the bar which ran around the side of the pool and kicked out leisurely with my legs to warm myself up a little. Marlon dived straight in and immediately struck out for the other edge of the pool. I watched him for a few moments. I was so glad Nan had talked some sense into me. It was a pain that Marlon had insisted on coming to the pool with me today, but I was glad we were still friends. I think if it hadn’t been for Nan I might never have had sense enough to let go of my anger. It was strange the way things turned out. Before my heart operation, everything had seemed so clear. I didn’t have long to live so I knew what my priorities were – my family and my friends. Yet after my operation, for a while my priorities had become
completely messed up.
So what was important to me now?
I couldn’t see past touching the bottom of the pool. My friends had all done it, but that wasn’t the reason. It was a challenge I’d issued to myself. It was my way of proving that I was as good, as healthy, as deserving of life as anyone else. I looked across the pool. Marlon had almost reached the other side. I’d have to act fast.
This was it! Now or never. Do it now, while I was still fresh and had the energy. I let go of the bar and began to tread water.
One . . . two . . . three . . . go! I swam to the middle of the pool, took several deep breaths and dived down and down and down. I didn’t stop, even when my lungs screamed at me for air, even when my heart shrieked at me to turn back, even when my blood roared at me to stop. I kicked my legs and went down further.
And I touched the bottom.
It was icy cold beneath my fingers but I had reached it. Elated, I turned round and kicked against the bottom of the pool to give myself an extra push back to the surface. Except the surface was a long way away. And halfway up through the water, I knew I wasn’t going to make it.
Consequences
Chapter Twenty-Five
Walking on the Moon
When I opened my eyes, I was lying flat and a brilliant white light was blinding me. I thought I was dead, I really did, until I heard a scraping sound beside me and then Dad’s anguished face swam into focus above my own.
Pig-Heart Boy Page 15
