Eating the Fruit of Lies

by Sandra Thompson Williams

  “I hope you don’t mind David,” he explained. “This is just a temporary rearrangement in order to make sure you have the space you need. I can’t tell you how it makes me feel for you to be here for me. I’ll remove the suitcase from the living room, and you won’t even know I’m here. I’ve just got to figure out what to do.”

  “Have you seen or spoken to Myra?” David inquired.

  “No, she wasn’t there when I returned to get some of my things. I think we both need time to consider our situations, but if you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  “Oh sure,” David said glancing at his altar horns. He felt like he was invading Stephen’s space so he went into his own bedroom. At least things there appeared untouched.

  David gathered his laundry together and decided to make himself scarce for the evening. He also needed some time to think.

  Once in the hallway, he heard his neighbors’ door opening. He descended the stairs without waiting.

  “Hey David!” yelled Michael. “How’s it going? Let me know when you’re having chili again,” he said.

  “Oh I will,” said David. “How’s your wife?”

  “She’s O.K.,” he said, lowering his voice. “Say, is it expensive to attend your counseling session?”

  “Not really,” David said. “We offer payment plans and sometimes the fee is discounted when the family has hardships.”

  “Could you send me more information?” Michael asked.

  “Hey, that’s no problem. I’ll be glad to have it mailed to you by the end of this week.”

  “Hey man,” he said grabbing David’s arm. “I’d really appreciate it.”

  Laundry was not a chore for David that evening. The problems he had on his mind made the time pass quickly. He hoped he had made the right decision in letting Stephen stay with him for a while. He just wished he had been asked about rearranging his prayer room. He resolved that he would use the living room to pray. It was an inconvenience, but it was better than not praying at all.

  He was sure it was his Christian duty to take in Stephen. What are friends for? They would have to find a way to share the apartment space for the next few days. The dampness from the musty apartment building basement was starting to bother David’s throat. He folded the clothes and left to get some throat lozenges.

  He returned to the apartment with basket in hand and took the clean clothes directly into his bedroom. Stephen was not there. David went into the kitchen cupboard and found a can of chicken noodle soup. He wasn’t sure how old it was, but he felt like he needed some soup. “I’m catching a healing,” he said out loud. He chuckled slightly as he thought of Aunt Tillie.

  After dinner he gargled with warm salt water and prepared for bed. Stephen had not returned so he thought he would turn in early. He reached for the small picture frame that held Rose’s picture. It was hard for him to come to terms with what he felt. He knew he loved her. He also knew that somehow, when the time was right, God would release him to marry her. He put the picture back in its place and picked up the Bible.

  His normal enthusiasm just wasn’t there, and he immediately started to yawn. He blamed it on his scratchy throat, as he closed the black leather cover and fell asleep.

  Laughter, heat and more laughter. That’s what David was sensing as he stared into the dark. He could see no one. He extended his arms to feel for whatever was there. Yet he felt he was just groping into the darkness. Who’s laughing at me? David thought. “Why am I so warm?” he said out loud. “It’s hot, hot, hot!” he complained throwing the covers off him.

  The alarm clock rang out loudly causing him to sit straight up. He awoke and discovered he was perspiring. Not only that, but his pajama shirt was pretty wet. He shut the alarm off and began to walk toward his prayer room out of habit. The door was shut and he remembered that he had a guest in his house. He deliberated on whether to pray in the living room, but it just didn’t seem private enough. He went into the kitchen to get some water for his dry throat. He felt as though the fresh water was putting a fire out.

  The fire was coming from his internal organs. He quietly went into the bathroom and got out the thermometer his mother had packed along with other basic medical supplies at the time that he was moving. Not only were his eyes red but his face looked flushed. The thermometer read 102. He hoped this was not a part of the virus that the media said had been circulating for the past three weeks. Yet, he couldn’t deny filling awful. He found two aspirin in the medicine cabinet.

  He wanted to pray, but instead he just crawled back into bed. He awoke again at 8 a.m. with the sound of music coming from his stereo system. He could tell he was still feverish. He opened his bedroom door and saw Stephen adjusting the volume on his system.

  They looked at each other, as if neither was expecting the other one to be there. “I didn’t know you were still here,” Stephen said. “Hey, are you OK?”

  “I’ve got a fever,” David replied. “I feel awful. I’m going to call the Center and tell them I won’t be in today.”

  Stephen glanced through the collection of CD’s on the shelf while David called his job.

  “Maybe you should call the doctor,” Stephen said. “You never know why a fever develops,” he warned him.

  “I don’t know,” David said. “First I’ll try these fever reducing tablets.” “I hate going to see doctors. Aren’t you working today?”

  “I took vacation for the week to kind of help sort things out. So if you need something from the druggist, let me know,” Stephen answered.

  Another two hours of resting reinforced his belief that working was much more fun than being sick. He decided he must call the doctor. The number of rings was quite discouraging.

  “Medical Group” a tired sounding voice finally answered.

  “Hi My name is ...”

  “Could you hold please?” a female voice interrupted.

  David was a bit disturbed by the curtness. He was sure however, that his impatience was due to his physical condition.

  “Medical Group,” the voice repeated.

  “This is David Edwards. I’ve got a 102-degree temperature and a sore throat. I wanted to know if I could see the doctor.”

  “Sir,” the doctor is swamped today and tomorrow. Looks like everyone and his brother has some form of this latest virus. They all have rather high fevers. I recommend lots of juice and water. The best I can do is have the doctor call in an antibiotic for you. Do you know your health plan number?”

  “Not off hand,” David replied.

  “Date of birth?” she continued.

  He gave her his date of birth and was rather relieved that he didn’t have to go into the office. Stephen had volunteered to pick up his medication, and he was going to take advantage of the offer.

  “Sir your prescription will be available in about two hours. What pharmacy would you like to pick it up from?”

  “Healthmart is just around the corner from me,” David said.

  The simple questions were starting to tire him out. He felt a headache developing.

  “By the way,” David said. “My records should show I’m allergic to certain medications.”

  “Thank you” she replied. “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

  ‘No,” David answered.

  He asked Stephen to pick up his medication at noon. He went back to bed. There were chills going up and down his spine. He figured the virus was attacking at full force. “I’m catching a healing,” “I’m catching a healing, I’m catching a healing,” he kept repeating until he had fallen asleep.

  David greeted Aunt Tillie with a huge hug. “I haven’t seen you in such a long time,” he said.

  “Are you praying,” she asked. The question seemed to have reverberated over and over and over. He finally dropped his head in shame. “You’re a warrior, a warrior of might. Repeat after me, I’m a warrior. I’m a warrior. I’m a warrior—.”

  “David! David!” shouted Stephen.
“Here’s your medication.” David sat up in bed looking around as if he expected to see someone else.

  “That must have been some dream,” Stephen said. You said something about a warrior. Are you OK?”

  “Well, I will be. Thanks for picking up the medicine. What time is it?” he asked.

  “You’ve been asleep about three hours.”

  “What!” David exclaimed. “Seems like I just went to bed.”

  Stephen handed him a glass of water and his bottle of medicine. David glanced at the medication title but did not recognize the name. He then awkwardly opened it with his sweaty hands and took the capsules with hope of getting some relief.

  “It says I should take another dosage in six hours. Would you wake me at nine if I’m still asleep?” David asked.

  “Sure,” Stephen said. “I’m going out for a while, but I should be back soon.”

  “See you later,” David said. “I’m just tired.”

  It was a little while before David fell asleep. For the next thirty minutes he thought of his clients, his family, Aunt Tillie and Rose. He mostly thought of Rose. If we were married, he thought, she’d be here taking care of me. Then he felt guilty. He hadn’t prayed in his prayer room. He had let someone rearrange his life temporarily. Perhaps it was just a small inconvenience or perhaps it was a plot to stop him from being a warrior. Maybe I’m paranoid, David thought. That was the last thought he had before the sharp pains hit in his abdominal area. He knew something was wrong. He wasn’t imagining this kind of pain. He knew he wasn’t dreaming. It hurt too bad. He decided to call the doctor’s office again. That was his intention when he passed out from pain outside his bedroom as he made an attempt to reach the phone book on the kitchen counter.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  David would not remember the spectacular ride in the ambulance. Nor would he remember the panic of his friend Stephen trying to revive him. He had slipped into an unconscious oblivion. In the emergency room, he would be given a priority status. Virus cases and broken limbs would qualify as less important as they tried to bring him from shock and decide what had triggered such a reaction.

  “What happened?” the doctor asked Stephen as the nurse and intern administered the amount of medication called out by the doctor.

  “All I know,” Stephen said, “is that when I left the apartment, he had taken two of these,” he said showing the doctor David’s medication. “He asked if I would awake him at eight so that he could take another dosage,” Stephen explained.

  “Who are you?” asked the doctor. “I’m his best friend. I separated from my wife a few days ago and he said I could stay with him for a while. You know, until I figured out what to do,” he said.

  “How long had he been taking his medication?” the doctor asked.

  “I picked up the medicine for him after he called his doctor today. You don’t think it was the medicine do you Doc?”

  “We’ll run some tests to find out. In the meantime, can you contact his closest family members?” the doctor asked.

  “Sure, I’ll call his mom.” Stephen said. “Is he going to be alright?” he asked.

  “He seems to have had a classic allergic reaction to this particular drug. It sends your body into shock. I’m sorry I can’t discuss it any further without family.”

  “I’ll call her right now,” Stephen said.

  There was no easy way to tell this parent that her child was in serious trouble. Yet, Stephen did the best he could to cause her not to panic.

  Faye Edwards took the news better than Stephen imagined. She said she would call her husband and have him meet her there. When she called the office of Dennis Edwards, her brave act had been reduced to a whisper.

  “Dennis,” she said. “Meet me at the hospital. David is gravely ill.”

  “Who is this?” her husband asked after trying to recognize the voice.

  “It’s Faye,” she snapped. “David is unconscious.”

  “What happened?” he asked, trying to gather his thoughts which were racing at an uncontrollable speed.

  “I don’t know,” she answered.

  “Are you home?” he asked. She nodded.

  “Are you home, Faye?” he asked again.

  “Yes, yes I’m home,” she said.

  “I’ll be there to pick you up as quickly as possible,” he said. “Try to stay calm.”

  They said very few words on the way to the hospital. Mostly because they were afraid to talk. She did tell him that Stephanie was at an all-day field trip and wouldn’t be home before six that evening. They both agreed it was best not to upset her so far away from home.

  The hospital receptionist informed them that David was on the third floor. Faye Edwards walked faster than normal to keep up with the pace of her husband. When they got to Room 307, they paused briefly, looked at one another and took a deep breath before opening the door.

  The sound of a beeping machine and a nurse recording data from a printout nearly went unnoticed by Faye Edwards. She immediately went to the bedside of her son who appeared to be sleeping and called his name. When he didn’t answer, she grabbed his hand, ignored the intravenous tubing and started to cry.

  The nurse looked at them both and said she would be right back with the doctor.

  “I guess she didn’t want to answer any of our questions,” Dennis Edwards said.

  The door opened slowly and a well-groomed woman that could have been 50 years old appeared ahead of the nurse. Her hair was pulled back and tied with a silky scarf, while a stethoscope adorned her neck.

  “Hi, I’m Doctor Payne,” she said, extending her hand.

  “I’m Dennis Edwards and this is Faye Edwards. We’re David’s parents.”

  “What happened?” they both asked at the same time.

  She smiled and looked at them both in a very caring way. “I know you both have lots of questions, so I’ll explain to you what we know at this time,” she said.

  “Your son was feverish and called his doctor for a prescription. When he got the prescription he took two pills, according to his friend Stephen who was with him at the time. The medication he took had derivatives of penicillin in it.”

  “Penicillin!” Faye Edwards blurted. “He’s highly allergic to that,” she said staring at her husband.

  “That’s right,” Dr. Payne continued. “A short time later his body went into shock and what we call a low grade coma.” “We’re basically trying to give him a drug that counters the affect that the penicillin has had on him.” In most cases, the drug has been very successful. Yet sometimes, I’ll be totally honest with you, sometimes the patient is nonresponsive to the drug.

  His vital signs are good and the drug usually works after about eight hours. It’s been two hours,” she said.

  “Is it true that comatose patients can hear what’s being said?” Faye Edwards asked.

  “We do have some medical proof that in certain cases, the hearing is unaffected by the coma. For those reasons, we do encourage caution in discussing the medical condition while in the presence of the patient. Upon arrival we did a cat scan and brain waves are normal. Let’s keep our fingers crossed or pray if you so desire.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Dennis Edwards said.

  “By the way, David’s friend Stephen is in the family waiting room. He might be able to give you some more information on exactly what took place. I’ll be back in a few hours to check his vitals. If you need me, any of the nurses can page me,” she said, before leaving the room.

  The hospital is a world of its own. Time passes but no one notices. Everyone is preoccupied with thoughts of what might have been done, what ought to be done and why haven’t they tried this.

  Stephen offered all the support he could. He felt awkward admitting that he and his wife were estranged. He was glad that they didn’t probe further regarding his separation. He offered to go back to the apartment and check the messages for David in addition to calling his job. Secretly, he also planned to call Myra. Som
ehow, David’s situation had jarred him into thinking that life was short. He didn’t want to live it with regrets. He also thought it would be best for David’s parents to wait the situation out without interruptions from the outside.

  Eight hours after having received the medication for countering the penicillin, there was no change in David’s condition.

  “I’m going to call the Pastor,” Faye announced to her husband. “I meant to do it earlier but I got distracted.”

  “That’s a good idea,” her husband said. “I’ll have Doctor Payne paged, we need to find out what’s going on.”

  Dr. Payne met with them in the family waiting room. No one else was there. “We have no explanation to why he is still comatose,” the doctor said, showing a bit of nervousness that was not seen earlier. “There are other drugs to try, but we run the risk of triggering another reaction at this stage. I’m afraid we are sort of stuck in a wait and see mode. I’ll let you know if there’s any change. I’ll be in the area if I’m needed,” she said before leaving. She walked out the door and a familiar face walked in.

  “Sister Marie!” Faye Edwards said with excitement as she hugged her tightly around the neck.

  “Thank you so much for coming!”

  “What do you mean?” Sister Marie said. “He’s my son too, I adopted him when he wasn’t looking. The Pastor was speaking to one of the nurses, he’ll join us in a moment,” Sister Marie said. I understand an allergic reaction caused this,” she said.

  “That’s right,” Faye Edwards interjected. “Somebody wasn’t doing their job and gave my baby penicillin,” she said, getting very emotional.

  “Don’t upset yourself any more than you already have Faye,” Dennis Edwards said.

  “I’m trying to be calm,” she said. “It’s just not fair. He’s such a good boy.”

  “Don’t you think the Lord knows that Faye?” Sister Marie said comfortingly.