by C. S. Lakin
Mosey closed his eyes, there in the parking lot, and prayed. Prayed for God to turn all that bad into good, Jay’s harm into healing, his bitterness into forgiveness. He praised God for his mercy and grace, confident God, in his time, would answer his prayers and provide just the right opportunity, as he always did. For—he reminded himself for the millionth time—God is not only able . . . he is willing.
Jake had never seen the inside of Reuben’s apartment, just the entryway. Lindsay gave it a nice feminine touch, Jake mused, as he walked down the hallway, Reuben leading him and his pumpkin pie to the kitchen, where delicious smells of turkey and baked bread filled his nostrils. And the place was clean, neat, not what he expected, Reuben having two small children, a baby and Angie barely walking. Jake remembered his own cluttered, messy place and Leah never feeling up to doing the dishes or laundry, all those long, tiresome hours Jake had put in, trying to keep up with school and take care of the household chores too.
Jake really didn’t want to do this Thanksgiving celebration, but Reuben had insisted. Last year the young couple’d had Lindsay’s parents over, but Jake had been in no shape, still wasn’t, to be cordial and make small talk, filling the air with strings of words that signified nothing. He would have quit all the holidays if it weren’t for Dinah, who was determined to celebrate every single one of them with Ben, elaborately decorating the house at Christmas with a big tree and lights and tinsel, taking him to the mall to get his picture taken with Santa, something he was much too old to still do, but Dinah had been taking him now since he was little and wasn’t going to let him get off so easily. She hung each photo, in chronological order, by tape along the mantle in the living room—already had them up this year, along with the tree, even though it was only November.
He said hello to Lindsay, visited the baby in her high chair, then let Angie draw some pictures for him with her crayon. Dinah came in then with Ben, and Angie ran to her, threw her arms around her aunt, dragged her by the hand into her bedroom to show her something terribly important, followed by Ben. Reuben sat Jake down in a chair in the living room, asked him if he wanted a glass of wine or some beer, then the doorbell rang and in moments his other two sons came in, their approach cautious and unsure as they chatted quietly with Reuben in the hallway.
Jake hadn’t seen much of Levi or Simon in the last year. After Joseph’s death, Levi had suffered what the doctors called “an episodic disorder,” a condition that threw him into bouts of temporary paralysis and seizure, muscle spasms, and other strange fits. One doctor said Levi may have been predisposed to such conditions, seeing as how he’d had birth trauma, meaning his mother had taken drugs and drank too much alcohol when pregnant. Apparently, these episodes were often precipitated by stress, fatigue, and dietary factors, all of which Jake could easily chalk up to the trauma of losing Joseph, something Jake knew Levi felt terribly guilty over, although he’d never open up and talk about it.
Yet, Levi chose to go live with Simon again, and through collecting some state benefits, got by without having to work. Jake worried about Levi, but did not know how to help him, not with Ben’s illnesses and medical appointments woven through his days, taking up whatever free time he might claim. Dinah had finished her associate’s degree and was now attending Cal State Northridge, still caring for Ben and living at home.
Jake worried about her lack of social life, noting that ever since that incident with Shane she had withdrawn, stayed mostly at home. Jake tried to encourage her to go out with some of her friends from college, knowing she used Ben as an excuse to bow out of dating and having a normal life most twenty-three-year-olds had, some of her friends no doubt already married, starting families. Jake worried Dinah would hide forever, forever scarred not only by that horrible experience with Shane but after losing Joseph, unable to allow any opportunity sneak in that might make her suffer loss again. Maybe that was why she clung so hard to Ben, fought for him when he didn’t feel like fighting himself, the pep talks maybe more for herself than for him.
Jake stood as Simon and Levi came over to him, gave them each a brief hug, told them they looked well. They answered politely, Simon doing the talking and Levi looking medicated but that was how he always seemed to look, each time Jake saw him.
“You still working at that bike shop, Simon?” Jake asked, motioning the two boys to sit on the small couch near him.
“I’m assistant manager.” Simon sat but fidgeted.
“Oh, that’s good,” Jake answered. “What have you been up to, Levi? Feeling any better these days?”
Levi nodded as he dropped down onto the cushions. “I’m on some new meds. They seem to keep the episodes in check.” He pursed his lips, glanced toward the kitchen. “How are you, Dad?”
“Okay. Getting by.”
What could he say? They didn’t really want to hear the truth, just like they didn’t want to tell their old man the truth of how they felt. It was easy to see his sons were troubled. But, no doubt just like other families at their holiday gatherings all over the country this night, they would smile, make small talk, discuss safe, comfortable things, meet from time to time, these holidays marking time, ticking off seasons and years until they used them all up.
Jake thought back to Thanksgiving at his home, when he was a boy. How his mom would make a feast and invite cousins and aunts and uncles from her side of the family, random, stray relatives Jake hardly knew, only saw at rare family gatherings. He knew his father hated those feasts, not liking all those people in his house, eating his food, drinking on his tab. Jake never really thought about it, but his father had been a loner, never had friends he went out with, did the things men normally did with other men. Ethan became his constant companion, his best buddy, once he reached a certain age, his father turning Ethan into a man way before he should have.
Jake looked at his own life, realizing now how much he was like his father. He never wanted to be anything like Isaac Abrams but now Jake saw how very much he turned out, despite his efforts, too much like his old man. Showing favoritism to one child over the others. Isolating himself from the world, hiding in his house, drawing away from male friendships. Even in high school Jake had been a loner, couldn’t recall even one friend he hung out with after the last bell of the day sounded., whereas Ethan had his crowd, and went out on the town and to ball games and all the things teenagers usually did. It was as if Jake had spent his life running away from his father, only to end up looking at him every time he stood in front of a mirror. How had that happened?
“Dinner’s ready,” Lindsay called out from the kitchen, as Reuben loaded the table with a platter of turkey, followed by a bowl of candied yams, Lindsay lighting the two white tapers and giving the dining room a soft glow. She got her baby situated in the high chair and Angie on her booster seat, then nodded at her husband when everyone sat waiting expectantly for the feast to begin.
As Reuben said grace and all bowed their heads, Jake reminded himself of how many things he was grateful for. He spent so much of his time grieving, feeling sorry for himself, wishing he had made other choices, been more careful in handling his family. He snuck a glance at his children, let his eyes skim over Dinah, Ben, Levi, Simon, Reuben. He keenly felt Rachel’s absence, Joseph’s absence, but they seemed to hover near him in spirit, and he felt some comfort in the midst of his unhappiness, in this small warm shoal of gathering together. He hoped there was a heaven and that his wife and son were there, together, joyful. The thought brought a bittersweet smile to his lips. He had made so many mistakes but he would try to be a better father, even at this late date, try to listen to his children, encourage and support them.
He felt his heart soften as he saw them all in their broken state, life having beaten them up and cracked them into pieces. They were managing, doing the best they could and in many ways Jake was proud of them, at the way they were now trying to make their own way in the world, glad Simon and Levi had outgrown their wild druggie stage and seemed to settle into the grov
e of normal life, as best as they could manage. And Dinah and Reuben were so responsible, caring for the ones they loved. Jake doubted any of them would ever completely heal, not as long as they had memories to remind them of past hurts. But they had a future ahead of them, more future than Jake had left, and at the very least he would do what he could to help make that future brighter than the past had been.
Feeling something resolved in his soul, Jake added his amen to the prayer and smiled as the plates of food passed and his family spoke in a lively manner, eating and laughing . . . and gratefully forgetting.
Part Six: Present Day
Revelation
Revelation: an act of revealing or communicating divine truth; something that is revealed by God to humans; an enlightening or astonishing disclosure.
June 10
Jake turned his head at the sound of the door opening. Dinah breezed in, followed by Ben, who walked in his slow, careful gait over to the edge of the couch and sat down. Jake scooted over, made room for his son, put on his best smile although he felt terrible. Not just from his recurring chest pains, his unstable angina that caused poor blood flow through his heart, but seeing Ben so pale and weak, worsening, it seemed, before his eyes, each day, the interminable waiting for a kidney donor wearing him down, the lack of hope more corrosive than his disease.
“Hey, Dad,” Dinah said as she bustled around the kitchen, “you feeling any better?”
“A little.” He patted Ben’s hand, his son whose eyes were full of concern for his father. So often he saw Joseph looking out from those eyes, causing memories to spark, Ben looking so much like his brother but now already years older than how Jake remembered Joseph. The painful sensation of missing Joseph was a chronic affliction, like an old wound that never heals, a scar still tender when touched. Maybe even the kind of pain amputees say they experienced their whole lives—the throb of a missing limb long gone.
Dinah came back into the living room and set straight away at propping up Jake’s pillows, smoothing out his blanket.
“I don’t really need a blanket; it’s not cold in here.”
Dinah, all efficiency and patronizing, answered with her cheery smile. “It’s more for comfort—you know that. Everyone needs a little security blanket.” She handed him his bottle of water. “You need to drink this, all of it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jake answered, took the bottle from her hand. He looked at Ben. “How did your treatment go?”
“Fine.” Ben let out a long breath and Jake heard the slight shudder as it left his son’s mouth. Jake could only imagine how tired Ben was of all the hemodialysis treatments. Getting carted to the clinic four times a week now, hooked up to those tubes with the fistula embedded in his hand, the techs pumping blood in and out of him for three hours at a time like he was part of the machine, a big box of metal doing the job his kidneys refused to do. Jake had been taking turns with Dinah, hauling Ben to his treatments, and then Jake’d had that small heart attack, scaring him but the doctors assuring him he’d be fine. They’d told him that with his condition he’d experience these chest pains on and off, pains that lasted an infernal fifteen or twenty minutes, feeling like someone was reaching into his chest cavity and squeezing his heart, making it almost impossible to breathe.
He felt bad that Dinah now had two needy patients to care for, sandwiched between all her other home care patients, but she never complained. She set her own schedule mostly, allowing her to be home when her boys got off the bus from school and enjoy dinner with her husband, and only occasionally did she need to rush out at night to handle an emergency. Since her husband Tim was an independent CPA, he often worked at home, and Jake appreciated his “loaning” out Dinah these extra hours to care for him.
Jake hated to be this incapacitated but he knew he had to rest, not push himself. Dinah was determined to get him well and back on his feet, although since he’d taken early retirement, what was there to do? Lately he’d been toying with the idea of tackling his wood carvings, those relics buried under dust and drop cloths in his abandoned garage. But every time he thought about carving, memories would wander in, unwanted trespassers into his mind, snatches of conversations he’d had with Joseph when he was small, with Rachel before she died, and the ache would start back up in his heart, much like the chest pains caused by his angina. Maybe those memories were the cause of his heart condition—a heart bruised and broken and incapable of handling the emotional load of his past. It wouldn’t surprise him.
So he found other things to do with his time—reading books, watching the History Channel, Skyping with Reuben’s daughters. He wasn’t surprised those girls loved to backpack and climb. Reuben and Lindsay had been stringing those kids up mountains since they could barely walk. But Jake was glad Reuben had given up his obsession with Everest, his son shaken by the big 1996 disaster where eleven seasoned climbers had died in a sudden storm. Reuben still loved a good climb, but he stayed close to home and lower to the ground, and that made Jake happy.
Ben got up, stirring Jake out of his thoughts, and put a hand against his forehead.
“Another dialysis hangover?” Jake asked.
Ben nodded, squinted. “I’m going to go lie down. But you still owe me that chess rematch and I’m holding you to it.”
“Okay, I’ll be ready for you.” Jake watched his son, only twenty-four, hobble down the hall as if he were an old man, the leg cramps and fatigue making him hunch over. They rarely spoke of the wait—Ben’s being on the list for a new kidney. They’d been told it could take years, but when days dragged by laced with pain, waiting even one week seemed unthinkable. Jake knew Ben worked hard at keeping a stalwart attitude but he could tell the bravado was slipping. Dinah worked double hard to keep him hopeful, spending hours on the phone and the Internet trying to find ways of hurrying this process of saving her brother’s life, frustrated that sheer effort had no bearing on the outcome. Dinah was always used to seeing results, immediate results from her hard work, just as she had when she’d been a young dancer, putting her all into her ballet practice. Jake smiled at the memory of his little girl in her leotard and pink toe shoes. He knew Dinah had wanted at least one daughter she could encourage to dance, but she did find great joy in Reuben’s girls, and their love for watching ballet could only be credited to their aunt enthusiastically taking them to every ballet performance in town, year after year.
Dinah sat down in the spot Ben had vacated, Jake noting a sparkle of happiness in her face.
“What is it?” Jake asked.
“I’ve got an appointment set up with one of the best kidney specialists in the country. The clinic is known for finding donors when no one else seems to be able to. Dad, maybe they can help Ben, find that kidney for him. Just being on this waiting list isn’t working.” She lowered her voice. “He’s going to die if he doesn’t get one soon. I think if this doctor sees him, maybe they’ll be able to draw on their resources, use their influence to find him a match. He’s young, type O blood. This shouldn’t be so hard.”
Jake knew Dinah would give a kidney to Ben in a heartbeat—all of them would. But they’d all been tested, and every one of Leah’s kids had either her blood type, AB, or his—B. Ben had Rachel’s O and there was no getting around it—the donor had to have type O blood—and that was just the first requirement. The cross-matching would have to be favorable too, and if they were looking at a dead donor versus a live one, there were six factors that had to match up, and even if all six matched favorably, there was still no guarantee Ben’s body would accept the donated kidney. It was all a crap shoot, to Jake’s mind, with really bad odds.
“Where’s this clinic?” Jake asked. “And when’s the appointment?”
“Here’s the thing, Dad. It’s in St. Louis—”
“St. Louis? That’s too far—”
“I know. But I already called my brothers. They’re willing to go.”
“I don’t understand. All three of them?”
“Dad, I think i
f they all go, it will make a better impression, show how desperate we are. Ben doesn’t have to go to the initial consultation. The doctor just needs to talk to someone in the family and look over Ben’s medical records.”
“You should be the one going.”
“You know I can’t. Not just because I have to take care of you. I can’t leave my other patients, not on this short a notice.”
“Short notice? When’s the appointment, then?”
“Friday.”
“Two days from now?”
Dinah nodded. “Simon’s taking care of the plane tickets; it’s all arranged.”
Jake squeezed Dinah’s hands. “Honey, don’t get your hopes up.”
“I have to. Someone has to.”
Jake admired her bravery and determination, wondered how she kept it up year after year. Seemed she’d been taking care of Ben since the day he’d been born. “Look, even if this doctor agrees to see Ben, I don’t think Ben can make the trip. His insurance won’t cover any special transport that far, and I don’t think he can handle traveling on a commercial flight—”
“Let me worry about that, Dad. First we have to see what the doctor says. If he thinks he can help Ben, I’ll carry him on my back all the way to St. Louis.”
Jake chuckled. “You’d do that, wouldn’t you?”
Dinah nodded and leaned over to give Jake a kiss on his cheek. He pulled her close and hugged her, so grateful for such a wonderful daughter. He suddenly remembered how she used to play on the floor with Levi, the two of them with her ponies. Where did that memory come from? Even now, Dinah was close to Levi, and they often went out to movies, just the two of them, Levi and her loving all the superhero action shows, making Jake think of how Levi used to draw those cartoons in his sketchbook, a little weak boy who stuttered admiring those who were strong and powerful. Jake wondered if that was what had drawn him to Simon back when he was young, Levi seeing his older brother as some powerful superhero who could protect him. But Simon’d only gotten Levi into trouble and heartache, and it had taken long years—decades, even—for Levi to find his feet and stand on his own, away from Simon’s oppressive shadow. Although, Jake was proud of the way Simon had finally came to terms with life. He still had a hot temper and a short fuse, but the years had cooled those burning embers of hurt, although Jake didn’t doubt Simon still thought about his mother. No doubt that was why Simon could never settle down, last longer than a month in a relationship. As soon as Simon felt himself getting close to a girl, he ran away—before the girl could break his heart. Jake hoped someday that pattern would change, for he really believed Simon needed a strong, loving woman in his life, one committed to him and who would never leave him. That would go a long way toward healing Simon’s heart.
