by Bradon Nave
Constance shook her head and covered her eyes. “No…not amazing. I was horrified. My sixteen-year-old baby and that…that…”
“She was a sixteen-year-old baby, too. They were just exploring.” Bishop giggled as Tyson watched the interaction in amusement.
“No, Bishop, something else. Let us talk of something else. I do not wish to remember my precious boy that way.”
“Okay, okay. Remember when we were going to sleep out in the backyard with Dad when we were in elementary and make s’mores in the fire pit but it rained—”
“And so all of us slept right here in front of the fireplace and made them.” Constance smiled as she finished her son’s sentence. “We told ghost stories and had hot cocoa until at least three in the morning.”
“But the electricity went out because of the storm and Nate didn’t eat all of his s’more.”
“Yes…the next morning I awoke to a true treat of hardened marshmallow and disgusting chocolate all throughout my hair.” Before Constance could finish her sentence, Tyson was grabbing his belly in a giggle fit.
“That’s…that’s awesome. How long did it take you to get it all out?” Tyson smiled as he awaited her response.
“Hours…literally hours.”
“I bet you were so mad. Did you spank him?”
“What? Oh no, we never spanked the boys. It was an accident. And that night was truly one of the best memories we’ve shared in this house.”
“Some of the best s’mores too, huh, Mom?”
“Yes, Bish. They were delicious.”
“I’ve never had them.” Tyson pulled the album closer.
“Tyson…dude, you’ve never had s’mores?”
“Nah, B. I’ve never really been in a situation that required them.”
“Mom, we gotta hook this boy up.” Bishop sprang from his seated position and rushed to the kitchen. Flinging the cabinets open, he was pleased to find some chocolate bars which were still in date. He grabbed them, the marshmallows, honey-grahams and metal skewers.
The three of them toasted a marshmallow over the flames, and Constance gave simple instructions as to how to construct the sandwiched treat. Tyson’s eyes widened, as did his chocolate covered grin when he bit into the finished product.
“How have I been missing out on this? This wasn’t even on my bucket list…when I had a bucket list.”
Bishop watched his mother staring at their guest with an understandable appreciation plastered about her face. “Tyson, sweet boy…I want you to know that you are always welcome here. I hope that you will visit often. There will always be an open door, bountiful conversation and all the s’mores you can eat for you right here.”
Tyson swallowed and nodded. “Yeah…about that…I just…I don’t want what happened…” Tyson paused briefly as he looked to Bishop and Constance. “I really like you two, I want to continue to get to know you two and I don’t want what happened to mess that up.”
Constance immediately reached for his hand. “Nothing is messed up, Tyson. This is only the beginning of so much for you and for us.”
Her comment had him grinning and nodding his head. “You noticed I finished my s’more…there won’t be any in your hair for tomorrow.”
“Well,” she chuckled, “I certainly thank you for that.”
“Can I use your bathroom?”
“You certainly may.”
As Tyson excused himself, Bishop looked to his mother. “You okay?”
“Tonight was perfect, sweet boy. He is precious.”
“I really like the kid. I think he’ll be around quite a bit.”
“Yes…I do too.”
Bishop helped his mother from the floor and they began to tidy the living room as Tyson reappeared. He walked to Constance and offered her a full embrace. “Thank you. Thank you so much for everything.”
Seemingly taken aback by his actions, Constance looked to Tyson. “Why, of course.”
As Tyson pulled away, Constance took his hand. “Tyson…I must ask. I know they are yours now, but may I hear…may I listen to my son’s breath, just one more time?”
Her request silenced the room; Bishop watched the interaction in quiet.
“Yes ma’am. Anytime you want.” His soft answer was coupled with the unzipping of the sweat-jacket. Constance smiled hesitantly, and then placed her right ear to Tyson’s t-shirt and well-defined chest.
As if he were at a doctor’s appointment, Tyson inhaled deeply while Mrs. Holloway’s head remained affixed to his chest. Bishop watched his mother’s eyes close as tears streamed. After a few breaths she pulled away before it was awkward, wiping her face.
“Thank you so much, Tyson.”
Tyson softly shook his head. “No,” his voice cracking. “Thank you. I can’t put into words. I can’t do it justice.” He took her hand. “You guys, in the middle of the worst time of your life, decided to save my life. I don’t know how to say thank you for that.” His shoulders shrugged. “I owe you, and Nathan, everything. You saved me.”
Constance reached her hand to Tyson’s face, the way she often did to Bishop’s, cradling it. “You are worth saving a thousand times, sweet Tyson. Knowing you are breathing, and smiling, and loving life, makes it so much easier to awaken in the morning and to close my eyes at night. You take so much of my pain away by just being.”
Hearing his mother’s trembling words awoke a realization within Bishop. She is completely right. If Nathan hadn’t made the decision to donate, if this tragedy had ended in ashes, it would be nearly impossible to overcome. Tyson was so much more than some statistic; Tyson was a reprieve. Nathan, for whatever reason, clearly did not want to be a part of the world they were in, but Tyson certainly did.
Bishop approached Tyson and his mother. “Group hug.” He forcefully took them in, kissing his mom on top of the head. “Plenty more memories to be made with you two, that’s for sure.”
“Bout ready to get me home, B?”
“Let’s do it.”
Pulling from the driveway, Tyson looked to Bishop. “Thank you for tonight, man. You and your mom are just…you two are amazing human beings.”
“So are you, Tyson. You’re going to do some pretty incredible stuff on this earth.”
“That’s the plan.”
“So…is your sister home tonight?”
Tyson smirked, turning to Bishop. “Nope. She’s at her secret place.”
The response had Bishop’s head spinning. “What? She’s not seeing anyone—”
“Hell no, dude don’t be dumb. That girl is totally torn up over you. She’s not seeing someone else.”
“Oh. Well, like yoga or some shit?”
“Dude, she’s at her secret place, as in, she asked me to keep it a secret…so I’m not going to tell you.”
“That’s fair.”
A few minutes later they were pulling up to a dark apartment.
“Do um…do you expect Alex to be back from this secret place anytime soon?”
Bishop put the car in park and turned to a grinning Tyson.
“Bishop, sir, are you wanting to come inside and wait for my sister?”
“Do you think that’s dumb? I can’t get past it, man—”
“I think you should stop worrying about what other people think, and I actually think you should stop thinking so much about it. Do what you feel is right, B.”
Bishop felt an uncontrollable smile creep across his face as the thought of Alex walking through the door came into his mind. “Okay…I’m coming in.”
As the two walked through the door, Bishop instantly took notice of the pitiful yelps of a dog coming from the apartment kitchen.
“I’m coming boy!” Tyson happily closed the door behind them and made his way to release the dog from his confinements.
Little Brutis instantly scurried from the kitchen and to the feet of Bishop. “Brutis? Is this Brutis from the shelter?” Bishop reached for the small dog, picking him up.
Tyson’s lack of response
was coupled with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.
“Ty…this is Brutis, isn’t it?”
“I plead the fifth.”
“That’s outstanding, Tyson. Nate loved this little dude.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah.” Bishop puckered his lips and accepted the small dogs tongue lashings.
“You’re not mad?”
“That you adopted Brutis? Not at all. I love it!”
“That…that’s the secret place, Bishop. Alex goes there all the time and helps that animal doctor out quite a bit.”
“What? How long has she been doing that?”
“Um…since you first took her there I guess.”
“She’s there now? Like, right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go surprise her, dude.”
Tyson walked to Bishop, taking his dog and petting him. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, dude. Things with you two are still weird and I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Oh, come on, Tyson. You said it yourself, forgive often, and I’ll be old soon.”
“Yeah, but I think it can wait until she comes home.”
“Tyson, please…you told me to go after what I want. I want to go see her. I want to make things right.”
Hesitantly, Tyson nodded and set Brutis down. “You better not shit on the floor, little dude.”
“I would never do that, Tyson.”
“Shut up. Let’s go, B.”
Back in the car, Bishop thought of all the things he might possibly say to Alex. The mounting excitement was instantly quelled by Tyson’s harsh tone.
“I don’t get this, dude.”
Bishop glanced to Tyson. “Get what?”
“We’re bro’s, I’ll be straight up with you.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” Bishops knuckles blanched as he gripped the wheel tighter.
“I’ve watched my sister mope around, basically crushed, and pick herself up while you wanted nothing to do with her. Now you can’t wait to get to her? You’re literally speeding to get to her…she’s been there the entire time.”
Bishop allowed Tyson’s words time to digest before responding. “It’s you, Tyson.”
“What? You better not be hitting on me—”
“Shut the hell up, you idiot. It’s you and the new life you’ve literally breathed into my family. You’ve came along and reminded me of how fragile life is…like I of all people needed reminding. But you reminded me that we’re not immortal, and no one is perfect. I can’t…I can’t be in misery one more day because of my pride and you just showed me I don’t have to be.”
“You really care about her?”
“I really do.”
“And you think you can forgive her?”
“I do.”
“Okay then…just don’t get us killed getting there. I’ve spent enough of my life trying to not die. I’d like to live a little longer if that’s cool.”
As they neared the area, a faint hint of something sinister entered Bishop’s nostrils.
“B…do you smell smoke or something?”
“I do.” Tiny specks of ash danced in the air, a few kissed the windshield.
Bishop’s heart began galloping as a soft orange glow presented atop the tree line above where the shelter stood. “Oh my god! Tyson, call your sister!”
“Holy shit!” Tyson’s shaking hands worked to call Alex. “It’s going straight to her voicemail! Bishop, what do we do?”
“Call 9-1-1!”
Tearing down the dirt road, Bishop was met by countless fleeing dogs of several shapes and sizes. Some remained statuesque aside the road, others ran about as if they hadn’t a clue what to do.
Like something from a horrific movie, Bishop and Tyson arrived to see the shelter’s roof sporting high-climbing flames from the top.
“I don’t see her car. I don’t think she’s here!”
“She parks it somewhere else! She’s here!” Tyson sprang from the parked car. “Alex!” His cries echoed out over the crackling flames. “Alex!”
“Tyson! Get in the car, the smoke isn’t good—”
“No, no, no, no, no!” Nearly collapsing in Bishop’s arms, Tyson wailed uncontrollably.
Bishop picked him up and sat him in the passenger’s seat. “Look at me, Ty! I will get her, I promise you! Promise me you will not leave this vehicle!”
With a sloppy-wet, frantic face, Tyson only nodded and continued crying.
Bishop slammed the car door and turned to see a horrified Edna running to him, her arm was badly injured—blackened with burns.
“Edna! Are you okay?”
“Bishop! She’s in there! She went back for the Great Dane, she went back for Stella! Stella ran out but Alex is still in there!”
“Stay with Tyson!”
“You shouldn’t go in there, Bishop!”
“Stay with Tyson!”
Running around the back of the building, Bishop heard faint sirens in the distance. Smoke bellowed from the open backdoor.
Ducking lowly, Bishop entered hastily, only the glowing flames lit his view. He chocked as he called out. “Alex! Alex!”
The thought of actually losing Alex eternally was more dreadful than any fear of death lurking in him—it pushed him further into the smoky abys.
A screeching cry from a cat on his right, had Bishop momentarily halting to unlatch its cage; the frightened animal ran from the scene out the open door.
“Alex! If you’re here you have to let me know! Let me know!”
A loud commotion from a neighboring room sent smoke and ash into Bishops mouth, crashing him to the floor as he coughed violently.
The thick smoke was overwhelming, not even the backdoor was visible at this point. His stinging eyes produced thick, sappy tears. The nauseating and suffocating effects of the situation had him facing defeat. Turning to crawl in the direction he’d come from, his hand fell into hers—flaccid and hidden within the cloudy chaos.
“Al…Alex.” He lowered his face to the floor where the air was cleanest, inhaled deeply and stood as he lifted a lifeless Alex, and in an act of blind faith, ran with all he had left in the direction he hoped was the exit.
November air never tasted so good. They fell to the soft earth, the sounds of burning wood, sirens and distressed pets were all about them.
Bishop on his back, his lungs and eyes burning as he forced fresh air into them, was quick to set his own recovery aside and turn his attention to her—Alex.
“Alex!” Her mouth was agape, she didn’t appear to be breathing. Bishop was relieved to find a faint pulse within her throat.
He positioned her flat on the grass and pressed his lips to hers, filling her lungs with his breath. “Breathe, Alex! Damn it! Breathe!”
Repeatedly he gave her breath; his tears fell to her soot-smeared face, until the sirens were all around them. Loud voices fell on the scene as women and men in firesuits and paramedic attire flooded the area.
“We got two back here!” Bishop heard—nothing truly penetrated. He reluctantly allowed his breaths of life to be replaced by a bagged breathing device with an oxygen tank. The world was blurry as medical workers attempted to ask him questions and load him on to a stretcher.
He watched an inert Alex being loaded into an ambulance, wondering if this would be the last he would see her with a heartbeat. And then his gaze fell on Tyson, completely distraught from the passenger seat. He’d kept his promise, and now he was devastated.
Chapter
Thirty-Six
The pokes, prods, and aching throat and lungs were nothing in comparison to the ache in his heart. Not knowing of Alex and her condition was dreadful. Not being able to comfort his friend, Tyson, made it even worse.
Bishop tried to contain his anxiety as he remained in an isolated emergency department room. He wore a hospital gown and was hooked to an I.V. pole.
The composure he’d maintained was obliterated the moment his mother came charging through the doo
r of the room.
“Bishop!” Constance ran to him.
Bishop sat up in bed and cradled his face into his mother. “Mom!” He wailed out as she squeezed him.
“Oh, my boy, you’re okay. You’re alive and okay.”
Bishop was nearly incapable of speaking, but had to beg his mother to find the answers he so desperately needed. “Please…please, Mom, you have to find out if…if she’s okay.”
She took his face in her hands, kissing his cheek.
“Mom, please! I have to know she’s okay. And Tyson, he’s…”
“Okay, sweet boy. I will find out. I need you to rest. Please, rest your head and eyes, you mustn’t strain your voice anymore.”
“Please, Mom.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
What seemed like an eternity was actually only seven minutes according to the clock on the wall. Bishop scanned his mother’s face as she entered the room.
“Bish…I was told Tyson is with Becca, they are in the waiting room. He is okay right now.”
“And Alex?”
The slight pause had Bishop ready to fling the bedding off of him and run to her down the hall.
“She was in there for so long, Bishop.”
“Mom! Is she okay?”
“It’s too soon to tell, sweet boy. She’s been intubated, with the breathing tube, and sedated. They don’t know if she was without oxygen and if so for how long.”
His mother’s words were vile. “No! Oh my god, no! It’s going to happen. She’s going to die.”
“Bish, it is too soon to tell, don’t think like that yet.”
Looking to his mother, he canned his emotions momentarily. “You’re a physician, what do you think? Does it look bad? Tell me the truth, Mom.”
“She was unresponsive when they brought her in, but it’s just too soon to tell, Bishop. The brain is such an odd thing. Only time will give us an accurate idea. It is just too soon to know.”
A slight commotion in the hall caught their attention. “I just need to see them.” Tyson came through the door, followed by a disgruntled nurse. He immediately went to Constance, hugging her as he cried.
“I’m sorry. I told this young man, family only, but he wouldn’t—”
