by Faye, Amy
Another voice, a vague feeling in my gut, said that I wanted to stay. It was wrong. At least, I told myself that it was wrong, and I believed it. There was no reason that I ought to stay, and there was no reason that anyone would want me to stay.
I’d only ever been trouble for my parents, only ever been trouble for my friends, and Laura was better off without me. People can get by without a man around. I’ve seen people in worse situations getting by without any trouble.
And in the army I saw plenty of people who just made the lives of everyone around them harder. Fight too much, and you bring everything down on your head. Could I really stop? Really settle down? No, I didn’t think so.
So there was no reason to think that I had to force myself to go see what it was that had Laura so freaked out about Mom. She would tell me when the time to worry had passed, if I was still around to see it. Until then, I had to focus on my own recovery.
But as much as I told myself that I wanted to leave, that I had no problem with it, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay, and I wanted to prove that I could be reliable. At least a little bit. At least kind of.
Sometimes, being reliable means that you have to let someone else carry your weight for you, even though you would rather be independent. Sometimes, it means the exact opposite. You have to prove that you can carry your weight and let other people have a rest.
My gut tells me that this is one of the times that I have to carry my weight if I want to be here any more without causing everyone a whole lot of heartache.
I take a step. God, I’m tired. I could just turn away. The other side of the hospital is only a few hundred yards, but I have to take another rest. God. It was the car accident that did it to me. It wasn’t that I was afraid, and it wasn’t that I was weak-willed. I could do whatever I set my mind to, whatever needed doing. I just had to prove it.
There was another long moment of hesitation. I could leave now. Last chance. The room was at the end of the hall. There was a door, but just like most of the doors in the hospital, it was sitting open. Like it was waiting for me. Inviting me in.
It had been impossibly scary to come home and find her like that on the floor. She was alright, wasn’t she? She was going to be fine. Mom was a strong woman, and she could handle anything that life threw at her. She’d handled me when nobody else could. A little thing like a fall? At her age? It was fine. She was only fifty-two. That’s not the age where a fall starts meaning something really worrying.
I sucked in a breath and crossed the threshold into the room. It smelled the same as every other part of the hospital, thick with the stink of iodine and medicine. The bathroom door was shut, and I leaned on it for support. Then I forced my legs under me and stepped again, further in.
She was sitting up, the hospital blankets pulled up to her waist. Her eyes were closed, and I wasn’t sure at first whether that was because she was asleep or she was just resting her eyes. Or perhaps… no, it was better not to think about that. Besides, right next to her, the machines beeped a steady, severe rhythm. Beep, beep, beep, beep. The line on the machine ticked with every beep.
She didn’t move when I came in further. I settled into my seat, and spoke very softly. “Mom?”
She snored in response and I laid back in the chair by the bed. It was wide enough for a very heavy person to sit comfortably. I found it to be an uncomfortable lounge. But it was what I had.
I waited for her to wake up, my hands folded in my lap. There was a lot to think about. A lot to worry about. And there were a lot of things that I had to decide for myself. So in a sense, a long silence was exactly what the doctor ordered.
What had happened with Laura since I’d left? She was like a completely different person. Eight years was a long time. Long enough to change anyone. And out of high school, a lot can change in a hurry. But this was something else entirely.
It was like something had changed her whole view on life. I knew dimly what it was, or at least what I thought it was. Charlie was a good kid. Tough enough to get by on his own, but at the same time, he was dependent on adults to let him know that he was doing alright.
He wanted to act tough, act aloof, but deep down, he was a kid, like any other. Even some stranger that had stepped into his life for the space of only a few hours was someone he was trying to posture enough to impress. In spite of myself, he’d succeeded with me.
But then again, what did I know? He was just a kid, and a kid that I knew nothing about. A kid who had someone else’s time and someone else’s genes. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I shouldn’t have been thinking about any of this.
After all, the first thing that I needed to learn was that there was no future for Laura and I, because she wasn’t interested. She was drunk, and I took advantage. That doesn’t mean that she wants to date, and it certainly doesn’t mean that she wants me to move back into town and make a big mess of her life.
That would just be par for the course at that point, but I couldn’t put the thought out of my mind entirely.
I’d have to solve a bunch of problems, that was clear. But I had time. At least, I thought I had time. I hoped I had time. As long as I don’t get into any more car accidents, maybe.
A voice tore me out of my thoughts. Mom slurred when she spoke, like she was drunk. “Dave? Are you okay? You look hurt.”
Fourteen
Laura
Charlie’s face when he came out of the school was the first unexpected part of my day, assuming that I didn’t count the 1-in-the-morning phone call. The second was still to come, when I went inside.
Most days, I waited for him to come to me. After all, I had no business inside the school. My responsibilities were all at the house. But today I had to go inside, so I’d always planned to get out.
Thoughts of how to efficiently route going through the building and getting a few minutes of face-time with the teacher fled my mind as I walked over.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
I sucked in a deep breath and tried to tell myself that there was nothing to worry about. After all, there were a thousand things that could go wrong, but relatively few of them were really something to worry about. Right?
Charlie pressed his lips together and shook his head.
“Come on, Momma’s got to go back inside and talk to Mrs. Val, okay?”
I grabbed his hand and started walking towards the school. He pulled back against me. I turned and looked at him.
“Did something happen at school?”
“No,” he said. But something had happened somewhere. That much was clear, at least.
“Well I have to go talk to Mrs. Val, so…”
“Can I wait in the car?”
I’d hoped that I could get him to tell me what had him so upset, or to move past it, by just trying to keep going with what I needed to do. At the very least, I hoped that I might be able to get some clue, even if he wouldn’t say out loud what had happened. Maybe I could make a good guess.
I took a deep breath. “Of course, baby. You promise you’re alright?”
“You have to be careful, okay?”
I raised my eyebrow. “I’ll be careful. Why, are you worried about something?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, and made a face. The face said first and foremost that he wasn't’ going to talk about it; the rest was just a lot of things I guessed at. I didn’t know what to think. But if he wasn’t going to tell me, then I wasn’t going to push it.
“Okay, sweetie.” I clicked the button to unlock the door, and he climbed into the back. “Keep the door locked, okay?”
He nodded and I clicked the button to re-lock them, and shut the door. He was buckling himself into the rear passenger-side seat when I turned away to head inside.
A boy looked at me as I walked. He was nine, maybe. The same age as Charlie, or a little older. He had a look on his face that I would have expected from a kid that was a little older. Like he was looking at a woman, not just a mom. I
brushed it off. After all, he was nine.
I recounted the classrooms in my mind. I’d been here in the first couple of days, and it was still going to be a couple of weeks before the trimester ended and I had a meeting with the teacher to discuss performance.
At least, I hoped so. I couldn’t imagine that it seemed like he was doing well at home and then he was doing that poorly in class. And if he was doing exceptionally well, then I would imagine that could wait the three weeks for parent-teacher conferences.
Halfway down the hall, on the right, a room said ‘Mrs. E. Valentin’ on it. The door was open and I invited myself inside.
“Hello?” There was a woman, perhaps a foot shorter than me, as thin as I had been in high school. She could have fit into my pocket, it felt like. She smiled, her grin wide. She had ears that made her wide face seem even wider. I noted with some displeasure that she had a ring on her finger, one that I most certainly didn’t have.
“Oh, hi. Can I help you?”
I furrowed my eyebrows in an attempt to look as dumb as possible. In my experience, when you’re intruding into someone’s space, the first and most important thing to do is to make sure that you look like you made a mistake somehow.
“I think I got an email from you yesterday? I’m, uh, Charlie’s mom.”
The chairs were all arrayed out through the room around islands of tables pushed together into three large clusters. She settled into it, and though it was sized for someone who hadn’t yet found out what the real differences between boys and girls were yet, she didn’t seem to be dwarfing it the way I’d expect.
“Oh, hi. Yeah. Do you have a minute to talk?”
I’m here, aren’t I? I kept myself from saying that. She sounded as sincere as anyone I’ve ever heard, which seems to be a constant trait of elementary school teachers. “Charlie’s waiting in the car, but yeah. I can wait.”
“How’s he doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how does he act at home? Does he seem to be enjoying class?”
“I mean, it’s not like he’s coming home bragging about it, or anything, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t know. He does he homework, and we talk about it if there’s anything that he’s not understanding. Does that answer your question?”
“I guess what I’m asking is, does he seem to like it here? Has he talked to you about any friends, or anything?”
I thought about it. I couldn’t think of a specific time that he had. Then again, I couldn’t think of a specific time that he hadn’t, either. Was I just not paying attention to the right things? I didn’t think of myself as a bad mother, but maybe I was stretched too thin.
“I can’t think of anything, I’m sorry. Is there a specific reason you’re asking, or…?”
“Well, I’m just having some… trouble, maybe. That might not be the right word. I’m just seeing a little bit of what I’m worried might be… negative behavior.”
“From Charlie?”
“Oh, no! Not at all. He’s a darling.” Elizabeth Valentin’s wide monkey ears made her smile seem that much wider. Like a cartoon character, almost.
“So, what, then?”
“Well, I don’t know. He seems to get very upset sometimes, playing with his friends. He assures me, and all of them assure me, that it’s all just friendly fun and games, but…”
“But you’re worried it’s not?”
“I don’t know what else to think. I’d think it’s bullying, but if he says it’s all just between friends, then…”
“And what about these other kids? What do they say?”
“Of course they’re going to deny it, aren’t they?” The teacher smiled sadly. “I just don’t know what to do, and I wanted to see if you’d noticed anything.”
I played back the past several weeks in my mind. I couldn’t think of a time that I’d heard him say anything good about something that had happened at school. I couldn’t think of anything bad, either, so on the balance it was even, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was just missing something.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t noticed anything. Did you want me to talk about it with him?”
“I don’t suppose it would be a bother?”
I took a deep breath. No, it wouldn’t be a bother. The bother was that I didn’t know about it sooner. “No problem,” I said.
I forced a smile for a moment before I started towards the door. I hoped that it looked convincing, and Mrs. Val didn’t show any sign that she was worried. But the truth was, I had a lot to think about. And a lot to talk to my son about.
Which presented me with the second really big surprise of the day when I went back to the car, because he wasn’t in his seat when I got there.
Fifteen
Dave
I never liked having a wireless phone. It was just a waste of money for me. Something I didn’t want and didn’t need. Something I didn’t use much, if ever. That didn’t mean that I didn’t have one, though. Because there was always the possibility that I got stranded somewhere, and then I needed to be able to call a taxi or something.
So I had one, in spite of myself. It was too damn expensive, but it didn’t rely on cell towers. It was some kind of satellite model, which could have been a lifesaver if I were ever in the wilderness. I barely kept it charged. I had a second, to spite myself even more, because no matter how much I hated having it, I had to be able to take calls inside.
The second one rang by my bed as I laid there, too tired for words and wanting to go back to sleep. The painkillers hadn’t kicked in, not really. Not until I’d gotten back to my room. Because that was when I finally started feeling as if someone had struck a blow about my head and I could barely keep my eyes open.
I forced myself to, though, as best as I could. There was no reason that I needed to sleep the whole day away, and even less reason for me to be up all night, and there was no way that I was going to be sleeping for the next eighteen hours so that I woke with the sun.
I reached out without looking and grabbed the phone. It wasn’t fancy. The sat-phone, that was the fancy one. This one was exactly what it had to be for a phone I kept in my pocket because I needed to make sure I wouldn’t miss anything inside a building.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other side wasn’t immediately familiar, but in my exhaustion I wasn’t thinking very clearly. It started to come back to me eventually, but it took a while.
“Dave?”
I blinked and tried to think. “Uh… Laura?”
“Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”
“I’m up,” I groused. “Just tell me what the problem is.”
“It’s about Charlie.”
“Okay?” My heart thumped in my chest. I couldn’t explain why, but the mere mention of his name had me on edge immediately. “Is he okay?”
“Uh…”
I didn’t like ‘uh.’ Uh sounds remarkably unlike ‘Yes,’ which was the only answer I wanted to hear.
“Give me a minute. I’ve got to get a cup of coffee, and then I’ll be on my way.”
“Jesus. I just, I didn’t know who to call.”
“What is the problem? Tell me that first. Once I know what’s going on, I can try to help, but I need to know first.”
“I just, Uh…” she sucked in a breath loud enough that I heard it through the phone. “I can’t find him.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, either. Of the whole thing, that was the worst thing she’d said yet. I’d been fighting to keep my eyes open barely a minute ago, but my legs swung out of bed before I could think of anything else.
“Where are you?”
I pulled open the bag that contained all my stuff. How I was going to get to her, I didn’t know. I’d run if I had to, but I wasn’t going to leave her high and dry.
“I shouldn’t have called,” she said. “You don’t even have a car, do you?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. I was pulling on my pants, the phone buried in
the crook of my neck. “I’m on my way, okay? Just tell me where I’m going.”
“I’ll come and pick you up.”
“Tell me where you are, and I’ll start moving in your direction.”
She finally told me. She was at the elementary school. The hospital here isn’t big, as hospitals go. I should be too tired for any kind of activity, but the adrenaline is surging so hard that I am pretty sure I could run a world-record mile.
I pull the gown off and pull my shirt on. It’s got a big red splotch in the midsection where my side tore itself open on the door as it crumpled into me. I felt my ribs protesting, and the truth was that I didn’t give a shit.
I was moving before I hung up the phone. The nurses thought that they could stop me, but they thought wrong. Apparently they didn’t want to stop me nearly as much as I wanted to leave. Once it became clear that verbally telling me to stop wasn’t going to do anything, they gave up and started on the second line of defense. Presumably they were calling security to meet me on the way out. I’d like to see them try.
I sucked in a breath as the elevator doors opened. A big guy, perhaps two-fifty and standing nearly my height, met me at the elevator. He had a badge pinned to his chest that said Security on it, just like I thought.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to come back to your room with me.”
I shouldered past him. “I’ve got places to be.”
“I can’t advise that, sir. Not without doctor’s orders.”
I gave him a hard look. Eight years ago I’d have already started throwing punches. It turns out that I can grow up. “I’m going. I’ll be back.”
He pursed his lips, but I was already turning away. I started the long, loping strides before I had really hit the door. Within twenty seconds of making it out I was hitting the pavement hard. Within four minutes, I was breathing hard. Two minutes after that I was passing a black sedan that turned hard to make a U-turn.
In the driver’s seat, Laura looked like she was about to have a heart attack. So I slowed down, in spite of myself.
