The Reason

by William Sirls

  Brooke, Shirley, and Jim moved closer to the window, watching as Alex joined Charlie on the lawn. The big man took the little boy’s hand, and the sight of it made Jim start to cry.

  Charlie and Alex took three hesitant steps toward the deer and paused. They turned back to the living room window and smiled, pointing at the deer again like they were trying to tell them something.

  Alex was shouting and lifting his hands. He sounded ecstatic.

  “It’s the deer,” Jim said. “C’mon.” He took Shirley’s hand and led her out to the porch, Brooke right behind them.

  They couldn’t hear what Alex was screaming at first. But then he turned around and ran toward them.

  “Don’t you see?” Alex asked, clenching his hands full of bright red hair as if he wanted to pull it out. “Don’t you see? The deer was dead! But now she’s alive! She’s alive!”

  TWENTY-SIX

  Macey dropped the folded copy of the Carlson Herald on the coffee table in front of Kaitlyn. “Check it out,” she said, sitting at her desk and grabbing a handful of manila folders. “Zach brought it by earlier.”

  “Already saw it,” Kaitlyn said, leaning back on the couch. “Carrie Armstrong showed it to me down at the cafeteria. A lot of people down there were talking about it.” She picked up the paper for another look and read the headline above the photo: “‘East Shore Professionals Nurse Cross Back to Health.’”

  “Isn’t that a good picture?” Macey asked, opening one of the folders and pulling a red pen out of her desk drawer. “Zach must be eating it up.”

  Kaitlyn glanced at the photo again. She tried not to look at Zach and checked out Kenneth. She grinned. “I don’t think God would ever look bad in a picture.”

  “Very funny,” Macey said, pulling a sheet of yellow legal paper out of the folder. She crumpled it up and tossed it at Kaitlyn, missing horribly.

  Kaitlyn tapped on the photo, feeling slightly bothered that Zach hadn’t dropped the paper off to her. “It is interesting that Zach and that Kenneth guy are standing next to each other in the same picture, don’t you think?”

  “Why is that?” Macey asked, rising.

  “One guy thinks he is God. The other guy, you think is God.”

  “I never said that,” Macey said, snatching the newspaper out of Kaitlyn’s hand and plopping down on the far end of the couch. “Why can’t I ever be serious with you about things that aren’t work-related?”

  “Lighten up,” Kaitlyn said, leaning her head apologetically toward the doctor. “I kind of thought you were suggesting that he was—”

  “I didn’t say that. I was just—I don’t know—theorizing.”

  “Theorizing?” Kaitlyn asked, tilting her head slightly and knowing full well that her friend had been doing more than just theorizing. “You were dead serious.”

  “Okay,” Macey said. “So what if I was?”

  Kaitlyn smiled. “Well, it’s not every day that your best friend theorizes about a higher power hanging drywall.”

  Macey crossed her arms. “Like it or not, and as weird as it sounds, I’m standing by what I said.”

  “Okay,” Kaitlyn said, raising her eyebrows and hands. She sat up straight. “Subject change. I’m putting in an admin supply order. Need anything?”

  “We don’t have to change the subject.”

  “I didn’t mean to hit a nerve,” Kaitlyn said. “I’m sorry, okay?”

  “You didn’t hit a nerve,” Macey said, and paused. “Okay, maybe you did hit a nerve. I’m probably being a little too sensitive about all of this, but it has certainly been a bizarre couple of days. It’s not like me to talk religion. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Sorry,” Kaitlyn said again. She meant it.

  “No, I’m sorry,” Macey said. “I need some black pens. And white-out.”

  “You’ve got it,” Kaitlyn said.

  Macey picked up the paper again. “Kenneth certainly seems like a good guy, though, doesn’t he?”

  Kaitlyn grinned. “Oh, I would say almost . . .” She stopped at the risk of going overboard.

  “Almost what?” Macey said with a hint of smile. “Say it, smart aleck.”

  “Heavenly.”

  “I knew it,” Macey said, shaking her head.

  “By the way,” Kaitlyn said. “Other than him dropping off the newspaper, have you seen much of Zach today?”

  “No,” the doctor answered. “It’s strange, though. A couple people told me how he spent extra time with the kids today. Again.”

  The office phone rang, and Macey reached her desk on the second ring.

  “Hello, this is Dr. Lewis.”

  Kaitlyn crossed her arms and looked back at the paper— mostly at Zach.

  Macey snapped her fingers and pointed at the paper, wanting Kaitlyn to hand it to her, and she did.

  “She called the paper ten times?” Macey asked. “The man of her dreams? Oh, man in her dreams. Which one was he?”

  Kaitlyn watched as the doctor ran her finger across the page.

  “On the far right?” Macey asked, squinting at the picture. “I, uh . . . I can’t make any promises . . . Well, yes, I suppose I could try. What’s her phone number?”

  The doctor grabbed the pen off the desk and pulled off its cap.

  “Go ahead and give me her number, Shannon. Got it. And her name is? What? You’re kidding me . . .” Her last words were mumbled.

  Kaitlyn watched the color drain from Macey’s face.

  “Okay,” the doctor said, holding the phone tightly, her eyebrows huddling as if she was confused. “Thank you, Shannon.” She promised to have Zach call her back and hung up.

  “What’s wrong?” Kaitlyn asked.

  Macey was still staring at the phone. “That was Shannon from the Carlson Herald. The one who came and took our picture?”

  “Yeah,” Kaitlyn said.

  “She tried to call Zach a couple of times today,” Macey said, her eyes wide and staring.

  “Macey. What’d she want?” She was freaking Kaitlyn out, acting so weird.

  “She said there’s a woman who keeps calling, demanding to know the name of the man in the photo. She said he’s the ‘man in her dreams.’ It’s Kenneth, I just looked.”

  “So? Maybe she thinks he’s cute.”

  “She wants Kenneth to call her.”

  “Well, there you go. Some girls just can’t give in to eHarmony, it seems.”

  “Kait,” Macey said, meeting her gaze. Her face had gone totally pale. “The woman’s name is Mary Springsted.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Good morning, everyone,” Macey said, entering through the staff door of the room to a big smile from Alex. He was in Spider-Man pajamas and new Winnie the Pooh slippers, just a little too big for him, and sat between Brooke and Shirley.

  “Dr. Lewis,” Kaitlyn said professionally, “Mr. Alex has a question for you.”

  She bent down in front of him. “What is it, Superboy?”

  “When do I get to take my sleepy medicine?” he asked, resting his chin on his knee.

  “Can you wait a little bit longer?” she asked, surprised at how anxious Alex was to reap the benefits of the sleepy medicine promised to him by Kaitlyn. Maybe he thought it sounded like a dream adventure. Or maybe he’d rather sleep than fret. I know I would . . .

  “Okay,” Alex said, standing up and shuffling his feet. His new slippers swooshed on the carpet, and one slid partially off his heel. He bent over and pulled it back on.

  “How’s your hip feeling today?” Macey asked. “I’m guessing a little sore, maybe?”

  “A little,” Alex said, holding his tiny thumb and index finger a half inch apart from each other to indicate his measurement of discomfort. “That much.” He tapped Brooke’s leg for her to lift him to her lap. “Will it hurt, getting a pote put in me?”

  Brooke kissed the top of his head. “It’s called a port, little man,” she said. She looked to Macey to answer him.

  “That port is going to help
us give you your medicine. And no, it won’t hurt going in. That’s why you’re getting the sleepy medicine. You’ll wake up and—wham!—it’ll be in place.”

  “Okay,” Alex said. “But where is Mr. Brave?”

  “Mr. Brave took his sleepy medicine already,” Kaitlyn said quickly. “He’ll be asleep for a little while too.”

  “Alex,” Macey said, pushing a wheelchair to the center of the room and then sitting in it. She grabbed the tops of the rubber wheels. “I want you to know what a great job you are doing so far. I’m super impressed.”

  “Thank you,” he said, then moved over to whisper in his mom’s ear.

  “Ask her,” Brooke said to him, nodding at Macey. “Go ahead.”

  Alex seemed hesitant to ask, as if he liked being the kid who had all the answers.

  “He wants to know how long he will be asleep,” Brooke said. Alex looked thankfully to his mother and then quickly at Macey.

  “Not long,” Macey said. “When you wake up, don’t forget you may feel a little sore and a little sleepy, but both your mom and Mr. Brave will be there with you, all right?”

  “All right,” Alex said. “Can I have that sleepy medicine now?”

  “When you leave here, the anesthetist will give it to you,” Macey said, getting out of the wheelchair. “Can you say anesthetist?”

  “Yeah,” Alex said confidently. “Answerthetisist.” He looked around the room as if proud of conquering that challenge.

  “You ready, Alexander?” Kaitlyn asked, standing. She stepped behind the wheelchair and grabbed the handles. “You want to walk or ride?”

  “Ride!” Alex blurted, sliding off his mother’s leg.

  Kaitlyn gestured toward the chair, and he hopped on it. She put down the foot pedals, but his little legs didn’t reach them.

  “Don’t I get a hug, mister?” Brooke asked.

  “I’ll take one too,” Shirley said. “Charlie is going to be wondering where you are all day.”

  “Tell Charlie I got a wheelchair ride, Mrs. Lindy!” Alex said excitedly, shimmying off the wheelchair. He gave his mother a quick hug and then wrapped his arms around Shirley’s leg.

  “We love you,” Shirley said. “We’ll see you in a little bit.”

  Alex waved toward Kaitlyn and Macey as he climbed into the chair again. “Hey, Mrs. Lindy, are you gonna tell them about Pastor Jim’s eyes?”

  Shirley smiled. “At some point, Alex.”

  Alex’s left slipper fell completely off, and Kaitlyn picked it up and put it back on for him. She patted his head, winked at Brooke, and then looked down at Alex. “Tell Mom and Mrs. Lindy good-bye.”

  “See you later, alligators,” Alex said. Macey held the door, and he dropped his elbows on the armrests as Kaitlyn pulled him backward out of the room.

  “He is so cute,” Macey said, closing the door. She walked over, sat next to Shirley, and then laced her fingers together and leaned forward. “Do either of you have any questions? About anything at all?”

  “I don’t,” Brooke said. “Can you think of anything we should be asking, Shirley?”

  “I think they have done a wonderful job of explaining things,” Shirley said.

  “I know this is a lot,” Macey added. It was a lot, and Brooke had been dealing with the situation as well as any parent the doctor had seen. “Alex is off to a great start. Most kids constantly fight any type of process, and he has done absolutely incredible. Believe me.”

  “I believe Alex is going to be all right,” Brooke said. “Just keep telling me what I need to do and I’ll do it.”

  “All right,” Macey said, standing back up. “Dr. Norman will be done with the procedure in about an hour, and then Nurse Kaitlyn or I will take you back there. Remember, you will see him with two bandages. There will be one on his neck and a larger one where the incision is on his chest. And plan on seeing a small amount of blood under or around the dressing on his chest. Don’t let that alarm you.”

  “Okay,” Brooke said.

  “And you’ll start his chemotherapy this afternoon?” Shirley asked.

  “Most likely,” Macey said, her doctor tone fading from her voice. “Mrs. Lindy, I know I’m going to be seeing a lot of you guys in the weeks to come, but I was wondering if I could somehow speak with Pastor Jim before Saturday’s harvest party? On a personal matter?”

  “Of course,” Shirley said. “He’d love it. Come by anytime you wish.”

  “I could maybe stop by tomorrow evening, if that’s convenient.”

  “I’ll tell him you’re coming,” Shirley said. “And I actually had a question for you about James.”

  Macey sat back down. “Sure.”

  “An amazing thing has happened. James can see now, and I was wondering what the medical explanation might be. We were out and about, and when we came—”

  “I-I’m sorry,” Macey interrupted. “Did you say Pastor Jim can see?”

  Shirley’s smile widened. “Yesterday morning, when we went home from here, his eyes—all of the damage to his eyes—it was all gone. They look brand-new.”

  “What do you mean, brand-new?” Macey asked slowly, waiting for a punch line.

  “James said that he was in the kitchen and that he had a sneezing fit. When he opened his eyes, he could see.”

  “From sneezing?” Macey asked, wondering how Shirley and Brooke could be so calm. They acted as if a scab had fallen off the minister’s elbow. Regardless, something key was obviously missing from the story.

  “That’s what happened,” Shirley said. “He’s been healed. You can see it tomorrow for yourself.”

  Dumbfounded, Macey watched Brooke nod in agreement with Shirley’s story and grinned. “That’s what happened,” Brooke said. “I’m guessing you don’t hear that every day.”

  Macey stared at Brooke and then shook her head, not in disagreement, but to clear it. “Mrs. Lindy, maybe I should come by tonight instead of tomorrow. Would that work?”

  “Of course,” Shirley said.

  Macey stood and crossed her arms. Her stomach was churning in a tightly wound ball of anxiety for the third straight day. Things keep getting weirder . . .

  Pastor Jim can see.

  The result of a sneezing fit. That’s not something you see in the American Medical Journal.

  She brushed her palm nervously against the end of her ponytail and faked a smile.

  Wait ’til Kaitlyn hears this one.

  Sneezing fit? I don’t think so.

  I think the guy in Mary Springsted’s dream had something to do with this too . . .

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Kaitlyn waved back to Macey as the doctor disappeared behind the elevator doors. She was off to talk to the minister. The guy who could now supposedly see.

  From sneezing? Kaitlyn thought. Gimme a break.

  She drummed a pen across the top of the nurses’ station and turned her head in the direction of Zach’s office down the hall. He was still there. Not that she’d seen him. Was he avoiding her now?

  The third floor had seemed eerily quiet to her over the past couple of days, almost too quiet. Down the hall she could hear a vending machine buzzing steadily from the waiting room. And then she heard a fresh batch of ice fall and crash in the ice machine before giving back into the dull silence. A closet door closed in the A wing, immediately followed by the stuttering laughter of one of the kids. And then there was nothing—nothing but the steady hum of the vending machine in the waiting room again.

  But there was also something else.

  Something beyond the vending machine was humming. It wasn’t a buzz or hum she could hear, but one she could feel. Almost like a glow you could touch. Kaitlyn held her hand out in front of her face and pinched dreamily at the air, as if she were trying to capture a piece of it.

  “What are you doing, Kaitlyn?” Harriet Jasper asked.

  Kaitlyn snapped out of it and blushed as she looked at the other nurse. “Oh! Nothing . . .” She shook her head and yawned. “I’m obvious
ly working too much. I’m practically seeing things.”

  Harriet laughed playfully. Layers of fat jiggled at the bottom of her arm like tiny water balloons as she imitated Kaitlyn pinching at the air. “You looked like Mr. Miyagi from The Karate Kid trying to catch a fly with chopsticks, except there was no fly and no chopsticks.”

  Kaitlyn wasn’t all that amused but couldn’t summon the strength to fake it. “Does it seem quiet to you around here lately, Harriet?”

  “Lesia and I were talking about that earlier,” Harriet said, sipping at her third mineral water of the day, a critical element of yet another diet. “Quiet and low maintenance. The kids all seem to be doing great.”

  “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

  “You know how it goes. It’ll be chaos before you know it,” Harriet said.

  Kaitlyn nodded and picked up her coat. “I’m outta here, Harriet. See you tomorrow.”

  “Have a good one,” Harriet said.

  Kaitlyn put her coat on and headed down the hallway toward the elevators.

  She walked past the visiting room, thinking about Pizza Hut or Taco Bell. Pizza Hut. Definitely Pizza Hut, and then a long bath, and then a good night’s sleep. That’s what she needed.

  There’s that buzz again.

  Her pace slowed until she finally stopped about fifteen feet from the elevators. She turned around and looked suspiciously back at the waiting room door. The buzz—that presence. It was coming from there.

  She turned, went back to the waiting room, and had a look. It was practically empty, except for a few people. A young couple watched their two-year-old play with wooden blocks on the floor in front of them. The dad looked indifferent, sprawled out from the stained chair, his eyes on his phone. The boy’s tiny left arm was in a cast, and the woman seemed to have the dark yellow remnants of a black eye that didn’t exactly match the fresher and darker string of bruises at the base of her neck. She quickly looked away in what Kaitlyn easily recognized as shame. Kaitlyn felt a shiver of rage and studied the man beside the woman, then moved on to the other guy in the room.