by Beth Vrabel
Jason scoots back a little. “Nothing.” He looks at his feet. “People say things around me, and I hear rumors.”
“Then why are you asking me this? What do you know?”
Jason shakes his head again. “I don’t know anything. Not really. Except you were surprised to see the rest of us here today, but Mrs. Mitchell and Mr. Hardy weren’t surprised to see you.”
“I know your mom left your family more than a year ago,” Wes says. He looks down at his hands then back up at Rex. “I know about ten months ago, something happened that made you different. I think it’s whatever happened to your brother.”
Ally quietly adds, “I know you wanted us to stay off of the third floor.” She looks up at Rex. “What happened to August?”
Rex starts to answer. “He—”
Mr. Hardy opens the door. “All right, students. We’re almost at the end of our day.” He gives Jason a long look. “Have you come to any conclusions?”
Jason nods and looks to the others. “I told them about the anti-bullying club.”
Mr. Hardy crosses his arms. “And?”
“Why would you want us in it?” Wes asks. “I mean, you know what we did.”
“Exactly,” Mr. Hardy says. “I know what you did. I also know what you’re capable of doing.”
Mrs. Mitchell’s quick footsteps tap, tap, tap down the hall. “We’re ready for you, students! The residents are assembling in the main room. Let’s make this short and sweet, shall we?”
“We’ve decided to go in a classic direction,” Lilith says. “Acting out bits of The Wizard of Oz.”
Mrs. Mitchell crosses her arms. “Your original piece that you’ve spent the past hour on is The Wizard of Oz?”
Lilith nods. “We’ll be performing it in an original way.”
“Right,” Mrs. Mitchell says in a clipped voice.
Mr. Hardy holds out his hand. “I’ll collect your essays now. I assume they focus on the anti-bullying initiative?”
The five of them exchange a look. Each nods to Jason and he tears out the piece of paper, handing the essay to Mr. Hardy. The principal glances at it and then back up at them. “Listen—”
But before he can speak, the walkie-talkie on Mrs. Mitchell’s hip buzzes. “Code Blue! Code Blue! We have a Code Blue on the third level! Emergency physicians, all available hands, report to the third level!”
“What’s a Code Blue?” Lilith asks.
“Someone’s dying!” Rex gasps and pushes past them. She tears off down the hall, Mr. Hardy and Mrs. Mitchell calling after her.
Wes grabs Jason’s arm. “Hubert!” he says. “What if it’s Hubert? He was going to have to move to the third floor. What if he already did? And Grace is still mad at him!” Wes sprints from the room, heading in the opposite direction of Rex.
Ally whispers, “I don’t think Rex should be going up there alone.” She turns to Jason and looks at him straight on. “August is on the third floor, isn’t he?”
Jason ducks his head, then nods. “I think so.”
“You’ve thought so from the beginning, haven’t you?”
He nods again.
“What happened to him?” Ally asks. “You know, don’t you?”
“I heard a rumor.”
Jason turns away as Lilith peeks out the door. “Hardy and Mitchell just chased Rex. Wes is headed the other way. Let’s go. Now, before they come back for us. You know they’re not going to catch those guys. But maybe we can.”
Jason says, “But what about the—”
“It’s just a stupid skit,” Lilith says, already kicking off her platform sandals. “Let’s go!”
Jason trails behind the other two as they dart up the stairs, taking them two or three at a time as they race to get to the third floor. As they pass doorways, they hear more walkie-talkies ringing out.
Reaching the third floor at last, they burst through the doors. Mr. Hardy and Mrs. Mitchell stand in front of them with their backs turned.
“Crap,” Lilith mutters and lets the door ease shut. They peek through the rectangle window on the door. Mr. Hardy has his hand on Rex’s shoulder, whose back also is to them. Mrs. Mitchell stands on her other side. They’re leading her away from a room as several nurses and doctors trickle from it. Everyone is moving slowly, shoulders slumped, not at all like the rush to get to the room. Rex turns and they can see her profile.
She nods and smiles up at Mr. Hardy. Lilith quietly opens the door a crack. “Thank you,” Rex says. “I guess I… I sort of panicked when I heard ‘third floor.’”
“Yes, dear,” Mrs. Mitchell says. “But the third floor is where stuff like this happens. You know that. Everything is fine.”
“For now,” Rex says. Mr. Hardy squeezes her shoulder. She moves away from his grip, and his hand falls to his side.
“Yes,” Mrs. Mitchell says and exchanges a glance with Mr. Hardy over Rex’s downturned head. “For now.”
3:42 p.m.
WES “The Flirt”
The conference room where the group has spent the past hour and a half is smack in the middle of the floor with a stairway at both ends. Wes sprints so fast his arms are pumping. At the staircase, he barrels up half a flight of stairs before he hears it.
Kissing. Like loud, movie star kissing echoing down the staircase to him from above. Ew. Wes shudders.
Now what? He could keep on running, make sure Hubert is okay, but he’d have to get past whoever was making out in the staircase. Just how much longer would the elevator be? Finally, there’s a pause in the kissing and Wes hears, “Hubbie, if you had just told me the truth!”
Hubbie? Wes trots up the stairs. Grace and Hubert pull apart from their embrace and gasp at Wes, who bends, clutches his knees, and laughs.
“What on earth are you doing here, Wes?” Grace asks. She fans at her cheeks.
Wes laughs as Hubert’s face turns a deep shade of red. “I heard the alarms. Wanted to make sure you were okay. That if it was you, Grace knew, too.”
“Wait,” Grace says, stepping back from Hubert. “Wes knows? About the congestive heart failure?”
Wes shakes his head. “No, I just figured it out on my own.”
Grace pats Hubert’s cheek. “I wish I would’ve sooner.”
Hubert shoves his hands into his pockets. “I was a fool, Gracie. I should’ve told you from the get-go, but I wanted to spare you the pain. Wes here helped me figure out I was just hurting you more.” He pulls his wife closer to him. “And the truth is, I don’t want to do this alone.”
“You won’t have to.”
Wes looks away as they kiss again. He clears his throat and they laugh, pulling apart. Grace sighs. “Thank you, Wes, for convincing this stubborn old man to see reason.” To Hubert, she adds, “I wouldn’t have traded my past for anything, but I do wish I would’ve had more time with you. Could’ve traveled the world.”
“Taken you to Paris. Or even dancing,” Hubert says.
Wes shrugs. “Well, I’m going to prom here with Judith on Saturday. You two should join me. Maybe we could talk Mrs. Mitchell into putting up a disco ball and playing some tunes for us.” Wes grins. “I know a couple kids I bet would help out.”
Hubert and Grace laugh in unison. “Deal,” Hubert says.
As the couple put their arms around each other again, swaying back and forth as Hubert sings into Grace’s ear, Wes backtracks down the stairs. He heads to the conference room, sees that it’s empty, and starts running again, this time to the other stairway.
At the top of the third floor stairs, he pauses again, this time taking in the backs of his friends, all of whom are clustered around the cracked-open door, clearly eavesdropping. He tiptoes forward. “What are we listening to?” he whispers.
“Gah!” Lilith gasps. Jason, Ally, and Lilith duck down from the door window. Wes catches a glimpse of Mr. Hardy and Mrs. Mitchell talking with Rex before they turn toward the door.
A second later, the four of them tumble into the hall when the stairwell
door is yanked open. “As I was saying, Rex,” Mr. Hardy booms, “I don’t think you have to go back to the others. I had a feeling they’d be on their way to you.” He crosses his arms as the quartet stand.
Lilith straightens her dress. “We were just—”
“Save it,” Mr. Hardy says. “Back to the conference room.” He holds open the door. Softer, he adds, “Rex, if you want to make sure everything is good with your own eyes, I understand.”
Rex stares down at her feet and then up at the four of them.
Just then a nurse steps out of the room near where they stood. Doctors and nurses had been rushing in and out of the room, but now it was quiet. “Not long now,” the nurse whispers to Mrs. Mitchell. “But Frank’s still asking for his granddaughter.”
Mrs. Mitchell shakes her head. “Even if she left now, Becky would never get here in time.”
Lilith gasps. She glances back at the rest of them with wide eyes and then goes into the room.
“Stop!” Mrs. Mitchell says. “You can’t go in there!”
But Lilith doesn’t stop. A chair is beside the bed. She pulls it closer and slips her hand under the palm of the old man’s.
“Becky?” Frank, the old man, whispers.
Lilith glances at Mrs. Mitchell, whose eyes fill with tears.
“Becky?” Frank says again.
“Hi, Pap,” Lilith says, her voice coming out in a squeak.
Frank smiles. “Becky girl!” Each word is a whisper with a long pause between.
“Want me to sing for you, Pap?” Lilith asks. She doesn’t notice as the others gather in the doorway.
“Is this appropriate?” Mr. Hardy asks Mrs. Mitchell as she steps away from the room.
Mrs. Mitchell shakes her head. “Of course not. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t right.”
Lilith is crying as she sings about waking with clouds far behind her, and as Frank’s eyes slowly close.
“Is he gone?” Lilith whispers after the song ends.
Mrs. Mitchell shakes her head. She lays her hand on Lilith’s shoulder, squeezing gently, as she points to the machine showing Frank’s heartbeat. “He’s here; he’s just peaceful right now.”
Mrs. Mitchell holds out her hand but Lilith shakes her head.
“I don’t want to leave him alone.”
Mrs. Mitchell smiles in a sad way. “He won’t be, dear,” she says, but not in a fake, folksy way. “Not for a moment. We’ll be with him the whole time.” As if on cue, a nurse quietly enters the room. Mrs. Mitchell gently leads Lilith to the others.
Without hesitating, Ally pulls Lilith into a hug. Jason pats the back of her head. Wes shoves his hands in his pockets, but moves closer to them. Only Rex stands slightly to the side. They stand like this until Lilith’s breath steadies. When Lilith pulls away, her eyes are red.
“Are you okay?” Ally asks.
“Of course not,” Lilith answers.
No one speaks for a long moment.
“Would you, guys…,” Rex says in a voice so low she is surprised to see them each look her way. She takes a deeper breath. “Would you, guys, want to meet August?”
4:07 p.m.
REX “The Rebel”
or
Just REX
Rex orders her arms to stop shaking. Orders her voice to be loud.
“My brother.” Her chin pops up. “Do you want to meet him?”
It was stupid to think of August—August—as a secret.
August was never a whisper. His was the name she shouted as she opened the door at the end of the day; the name she called from the kitchen table when she couldn’t figure out a math problem; the name she screamed when she was lost in a crowd.
But somehow August had gotten stuck in the filter of her lips, ever since that terrible day when she first realized that it didn’t matter how much you love a person. It didn’t matter if his face was the one that anchored you in place. It didn’t matter if you needed him. Love isn’t a strong enough glue to keep a person together, and it will smash you to bits if you try.
She hadn’t said his name out loud—hadn’t even thought it—since then. Until this morning, shoveling tuna casserole with Picasso. With Jason.
Ally walks beside Rex. Lilith treads by her other side, with Jason and Wes just behind them. Farther back, Mr. Hardy and Mrs. Mitchell trail the group. As they walk, Rex finally talks about her brother. “August, he always took care of me. Earlier, I said he took care of me after Mom left, but that’s not true. He’s always taken care of me, even before she left. Far back as I can remember, he’s the one who would check my homework, tuck me in at night, make me breakfast.” Rex stares straight ahead, every so often peeking to the side where Ally watches her face. “So it wasn’t a big deal to me when she bailed. I still had him.”
Rex rakes her hand through her choppy hair, then continues. “But I didn’t think about what it was like for August. He was—is—a lot older than me. He was twenty-two when Mom left, and he still lived with us. I thought he was so strong. So able to handle anything and everything. I’ve always been… I worry that I’m a lot like Mom. She, like, blows up at people. She’s selfish. She can totally cut a person up or rip them apart just with what she says. But August wasn’t—isn’t—anything like that. He’s kind, and quiet, and thoughtful. Pulls-up-the-blankets-at-night thoughtful. And so I’d just tell myself that what made him made me, too.”
“What about your dad?” Lilith asks. “Where is he?”
Rex shakes her head. “He died when I was a little kid. Car accident.”
Ally puts her hand on Rex’s shoulder. Rex shrugs it off, but then she smiles at Ally. “Sorry. I just don’t like…”
Ally nods and she laughs. “I don’t, either. Not usually. Don’t know what’s going on with me today.”
Rex sends her a halfway smile. “I don’t think any of us do.”
“What happened when your mom left? To August, I mean?” Wes asks.
Rex swallows. “Nothing at first. Mom left a lot, but she usually came back after a couple days. But when weeks went by without hearing from her, August changed. He didn’t eat as much as he should’ve. He didn’t sleep at night. He got fired from his job as an apprentice for a carpenter.”
Ally nods. “My dad changed, too, when Mom left. He got, I don’t know, more focused. More intense.”
“It was the opposite for August,” Rex says. “I’d come home and he’d still be in his pajamas. I started making dinners. He didn’t even do things he used to love, like playing the guitar or listening to music. He… he kind of checked out.”
“Was he sick?” Wes asks.
Rex doesn’t say anything. She glances over her shoulder at Mr. Hardy. He lifts his head in a half nod and says, “Not all sicknesses are visible or as easily understood. August was hurting. He was depressed. Would you say that’s right, Rex?”
Rex nods once, a quick duck of her head. “He’d say things like how I deserved more, deserved to be with a real family. How he was worthless.”
Lilith shifts closer to Rex, but is careful not to touch her.
“Rex…,” Mr. Hardy says, but she shakes her head, swallows.
“August took a lot of pills one day. There was a note, with our grandmother’s phone number and address written on it.”
No one says anything. Rex’s face burns.
In the thick silence, Mrs. Mitchell clears her throat. With a strong voice, she says, “Doctors were able to revive him, but he hadn’t had enough oxygen for a really long time. When a brain is deprived of oxygen, it becomes damaged. Most of the time that damage is not reversible.”
“What does that mean?” Ally asks, her eyes darting from Rex to Mr. Hardy to Mrs. Mitchell. But Rex stops walking abruptly. On the door next to where she stops is a picture of the resident, just like in the other halls. This time, though, it isn’t an old woman or man. Pictured is a young man with thick dark hair, wide brown eyes, and the same heart-shaped face as Rex.
Her chin high, Rex glowers at
them, daring them to keep walking. Daring them to stay.
Wes and Jason file past her into the room.
Rex raises her eyebrow at Ally, taking in the shimmer of sweat breaking out over her forehead.
Lilith’s jaw sets. She narrows her eyes, then puts her arm around Ally’s waist. “I’m going to help you be strong now,” she whispers, “and you’re going to help me later.”
“About Frank?” Ally asks.
Lilith nods. She leads Ally into the room.
Mr. Hardy and Mrs. Mitchell hang back. Mrs. Mitchell reaches toward Rex, but she backsteps before she can touch her.
“Hi, August.” Good job, she tells herself when her voice comes out sounding solid and controlled. Rex crosses the room on steady legs to where her brother sits in a large black wheelchair. His arms are curled at his side and his face hollow, more so even than it is in the picture on the door. His mouth stretches in a lopsided smile. “I brought some friends today.”
The four glance at one another, and then Wes steps forward. “Hey, man,” he says. “Nice to meet you. I’m Wes.”
Wes’s voice isn’t any different when he talks to her brother than to other people, and it makes her so grateful that she smiles straight at him for the first time all day. Some people, even some nurses, have super high voices when they talk to August. It gets under Rex’s skin. He’s still a grown man, not a baby, she tells them. But she doesn’t have to with Wes. He looks at August, too, when he talks to him. Not everyone does that, either.
The other three stand against the far wall. Rex sits on the bed next to the wheelchair and turns to the group. Jaw set, she says, “He can’t talk anymore.” She glances at Mrs. Mitchell, who’s still in the doorway with Mr. Hardy.
Mrs. Mitchell nods. “Rex believes he understands, though. And we think he might know more than we give him credit for. Don’t you, love?”
“He can’t walk.” Rex points to the wheelchair. “Or feed himself. Or…”
As her voice trails off, Lilith walks to the window. “Maybe you’d like some sunshine in here, August?” She pulls open the curtains. “Oh, look!” She holds up the album next to the record player beneath the window. “My parents love the Beatles.”
