Souls in Peril
Page 17
“So, um, I’m having surgery tomorrow,” Izzy confessed to Em. It took Max by surprised. It also made him happy. It meant she tried reaching out to Em.
“Yeah, I have Crohns, and it’s been unmanageable lately. They’re going to do an ileostomy tomorrow to give my bowels a rest.” Izzy let out a hard breath. Clearly the risk unnerved her.
“Max’s aunt had that. He told me she felt a lot better afterwards.”
“Really? I’ve never known anyone who’s had it. The doctors always tell you that everything will be better, but I’m not big on doctors. I think it’s a shot in the dark with them sometimes.”
Em agreed. “I remember this one . . . Maybe the day before you have surgery isn’t a good time to share hospital horror stories.”
“Good point.” Max flopped into the chair, relieved he didn’t have to hear about blood and guts, two of his least favorite topics.
“I have to go. We are having a cheer practice in half an hour.” She turned to Max. “Do you want a ride home?”
Max glanced over at Izzy’s tight features. “No. I’m going to stay a little longer. Thanks for bringing me here.”
“No prob. Good luck tomorrow.” She squeezed Izzy’s hand.
“Thanks. Oh, Emma, please don’t tell anyone about the surgery. It’s kind of embarrassing.” Izzy dropped her head down.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Izzy. But I promise, I won’t tell anyone.” She waved and left.
“Okay, say it.” Izzy looked Max square in the eyes.
“Say what?”
“I told you so. You were right. She’s really nice.”
“Izzy, I’d never say I told you so.” Max shook his head. “I’d say you should’ve have trusted me, never I told you so.”
She rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”
“How are you doing with all of this? I get the feeling you’re a little nervous about tomorrow.”
“You’re dead wrong,” she assured him. “I’m extremely nervous.” She rubbed her hands over her face then pushed them through her hair.
“Izzy, they do this surgery all the time. Think about how much better you’re going to feel,” Max said, encouraging her.
“Yes. And if anyone finds out I have a baggie of crap taped to my gut, I’ll really be known as Icky Izzy. Or worse. Probably CSI, Crap Sack Izzy.” She pressed back into her pillow.
“No one will find out,” he assured. “How long did it take you to come up with CSI?”
“Half an hour,” she replied drily.
“Way to think positive. What happened to keeping to the code?”
“And what does don’t worry, be happy have to do with nicknames?” she teased, totally changing the code.
“My, my, sarcastic one. You are stressed over this, aren’t you?” Max scooted his chair over closer to the bed and wrapped his hands around hers.
“Do you think you could stay tonight, please?” She pulled her hand out from under his and wiped the tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Sure. Let me call my mom and let her know.” She nodded as he picked up the phone. Max handed her a tissue from the box on the nightstand. Mel wasn’t home from work yet, so he left a message on the answering machine.
“I’ll call again later and make sure she got the message.” He pulled the dividing curtain back. The snoring grandma had left. “Did she . . .” He dragged a finger across his neck dramatically, mostly in an effort to cheer Izzy up.
“That is sick.” Izzy tossed her pillow at him, trying not to smile. “They discharged her, and yes, she was still breathing when she left.”
“I’m going to miss the snoring.” Max’s head drooped.
“I’m not. Sonic booms are easier to sleep through.” Izzy slipped her hands behind her head. “My mom called today.”
Max didn’t like the tone in her voice. “And?”
“She wished me luck.”
“Is she coming out here?”
“No. My little sister’s in the school play, and my mom would have to miss the opening night if she came. They’re doing Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. She’s an Oompa Loompa.” Izzy kept her eyes moving around the room.
“She’d rather see her daughter in green make-up than come here for your surgery?” Max couldn’t believe his ears. These people are a dysfunctional mess.
“Orange.”
“What?”
“Oompa Loompa’s are orange. At least in the old Wonka movie, in the new—”
“Izzy, you know what I mean.”
“Why does this surprise you? She left me behind to live with a pervert.” She pushed her call button. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” A nurse with little Korean flags on her uniform came in.
“Hi, Izzy. Did you need something?”
“My brother’s going to spend the night if that’s alright. Could he have a pillow and blanket?”
“Sure. I’ll be right back. The doctor ordered a sleeping pill also. He wants you well rested for the surgery tomorrow.” She returned a few moments later with a pill for Izzy and a blanket and pillow. She gave them to Max, showing him how the chair reclined as Izzy took the pill.
“It’s not as comfortable as a bed, but better than sitting in a hard chair all night.” She also gave him a sheet of paper. “And this is a list of movies we have. Just let me know what you want to watch.” Max thanked her and handed Izzy the paper.
“No. Tell me one of your stories until I fall asleep.” Izzy adjusted her bed.
“Sure. How about The Princess Emma,” he suggested, mostly because he knew the story so well.
Izzy laughed. “Why did I know you’d choose that one?”
He ignored her and began. “Princess Emma lived in a land far, far away, with rolling hills and daffodils. She loved the brave Knight Jayden, but an evil wizard . . .”
Izzy fell asleep quickly. Max called Mel as he made up the chair for him to sleep on. “Hi, mom. Izzy wants me to stay here with her tonight. Her surgery is tomorrow. Is that alright?”
“Of course, sweetie. I thought you were in bed already,” she chuckled. “I was about to leave you a note. Tim and I are on our way out with some friends.” Max looked at his watch. Eleven p.m. He wondered where they could possibly be going at eleven o’clock at night. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Wish Izzy luck for me.”
“I will. ‘Night.”
“Love you, sweetie.”
Max settled into the chair, wiggling around trying to get comfortable. After a ten minute struggle with the arm rest, Max finally fell asleep.
“Where’s my pen, fat boy?”
No! Max dropped his head down. He’d forgotten to give Tim the stupid pen.
“I’m really sorry, Tim. I promise I’ll find it tomorrow,” JD vowed.
“JD, I found it. You don’t need to worry about it anymore. I’ll give it to him tomorrow,” Max promised.
But the dream continued, as it always did. Max groaned at all of JD’s pleads. Tim was determined to teach JD a lesson on responsibility.
Max rubbed his head in sympathy as the same twelve inch section of the frame split off and shot into the bedroom, only this time he didn’t wake.
“Get up, you fat lump.” Tim kicked JD in the butt as he lay on his side on the floor.
“I can’t. I think I’m going to be sick,” JD groaned. His stomach rolled. Tim grabbed him by the belt and dragged him in the bathroom.
“You’d better make sure it gets in the toilet, JD.” Tim’s voice changed. It held worry instead of disgust.
JD vomited in the toilet, twice, before dropping back on the floor. “I don’t feel so good. The room is spinning, and everything keeps fading in and out of focus. I think I’m going to die.”
Tim’s eyes bugged out, and his face ran pale. He bent down over JD. “No, you’re not going to die. You just need to walk it off. Come on. I’ll help.” He hooked an arm around JD’s waist and helped him off the floor. However, they didn’t even get to the door. JD twisted around and fell
back in front of the toilet, vomiting.
Tim scrubbed his face, and paced back and forth in the small space as JD vomited yet again.
“I really think I’m going to die,” JD said, wiping his mouth on his arm.
“No. We’re going to the hospital.”
Max jolted awake, nauseous, glancing around to get his bearings. “JD, it’s just a dream. We’re here with Izzy. That’s why you dreamed about going to the hospital,” he muttered softly so as not to wake Izzy. He got up and walked down the hall to the drinking fountain, taking a long pull of the cold water. Back in Izzy’s room, he stood at the window, trying to reassure JD. The moon shone bright, dusting the tops of cars in the parking lot with its pale light. The view was peaceful and calming.
He settled back in the chair, watching Izzy sleep for a few moments. She tossed and twisted around restlessly. Max didn’t know if she was in pain, or if her worries about the surgery bothered her. He wrapped his hands around hers and finished telling her the story he’d started earlier. By the time he ended, she’d settled into a peaceful sleep.
Max yawned and stretched out in the reclining chair. JD, you need to write a story for Izzy. I think she’d like that.
JD agreed.
**
“It’s going to be fine, Izzy.” Max brushed the hair from her forehead.
“Okay,” she nodded. “Thanks for staying with me last night.”
A guy dressed in blue scrubs entered the room. “Time to go, Miss Thurston.”
“But my dad’s not back. He’s downstairs getting coffee.”
“He can come into the waiting area and see you before the surgery, don’t worry.”
Max held out his left index finger. Izzy wrapped hers tightly around it. Max wondered if she somehow hoped to draw on JD’s strength to buoy her up. “Keep to the code. I’ll wait for you, Izzy,” Max called out as they wheeled her away.
He sank into the recliner, dozing off and on. He’d not slept well, and he felt it now. An hour after they took her away, her father came back to the room.
“She left for surgery and hour ago,” Max said, standing and stretching.
“Yes, I’ve been with her in the surgical waiting area. You may as well head to school. She’ll be in intensive care until tomorrow, barring any problems. Only family is allowed in there. And contrary to what you and Isabelle told the nurse, you are not family,” he added sternly. “Her doctor feels it’s best since she’s been quite ill lately. He wants to keep an eye on her.”
“Okay.” Max didn’t really want to leave. He even doubted what her father said until he verified it with the nurse.
It was six-thirty. If he hurried, he could get home and changed in time to catch the bus. He jogged to his house, making good time. Mel stood in the kitchen, making herself a PB and J sandwich as he came in the front door.
“Good morning, sweetie. How’s Izzy?”
“They took her to surgery. No visitors till tomorrow. I wish I had a cell phone so I could check on her later,” Max said, half to himself.
“No cell phones, fat boy. You want one, you get a job.” Tim strutted in wearing a Farmer Joe’s t-shirt. He’d finally gotten a job. Max didn’t bother pointing out Tim’s hypocritical statement.
“Timmy, please don’t talk to JD like that. He’s sensitive.” She stroked Max’s head.
“You mean spoiled. The lazy lump doesn’t do anything around here, Mel. Why can’t he get a job?” Tim shoved Max out to the way to make himself a sandwich.
“He’s tried, but he hasn’t had any luck.” Tim sneered but said nothing.
Mel slipped her sandwich in her purse as a small gray Prius pulled up in front of the house. “There’s my ride. Have a good day.” She gave Max a kiss on the cheek. When she kissed Tim, he slapped her playfully on the butt. “Stop. JD’s in the room,” she said with a giggle.
Max wanted to throw-up. He’s seen his parents flirting with each other, but watching Tim made him want to join a monastery.
“Your mother coddles you, boy. You’re lazy.” Too tired to bother with him, Max went and got in the shower. Thankfully, Tim left before he got out. He dressed and ran out the door, finding Emma sitting out front, waiting for him in her car.
“Want a ride?” She smiled and his heart melted.
“Sure. Thanks.” He got in, setting his backpack in the rear seat.
“I figured you’d be worried about Izzy and could use some company.” She handed him a small paper bag. Max recognized the small brown bag instantly. She’d bought him a bagel from Bagel Heaven.
“Oh, man. I love this place.” He tore open the sack and pulled it out; a whole wheat bagel with garlic, and low-fat cream cheese.
“This is my favorite kind.” He sunk his teeth into it and groaned.
“I took a chance. It was Max’s favorite too, and since you two have so much in common, I hoped you’d like it too,” she beamed proudly. “I haven’t bought one of those since . . . well, you know. Anyway, it was kind of fun getting to buy one again.”
“Well don’t let me stop you from having fun.” He ate the bagel way too quickly, loving every bite.
She pulled into her usual parking space at school. “JD, I’m sure you’ll want to call and check on Izzy throughout the day, so here.” She handed him her phone. “Just don’t get caught,” she warned.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s not like I can use it. I’ll get it from you after school when we go by the hospital to see her.”
“Thanks. I’m not sure she can have visitors though, but we can check.” Max slipped the phone into his pocket. “See you at lunch.”
The day dragged. Even eating lunch with Em did little to speed things up. He’d called the hospital twice, but each time her father told him she hadn’t come out yet. Not until he checked after sixth period, did he find out she was in recovery and doing great. As predicted, she’d be in the intensive care unit until tomorrow.
“Okay, thank you, Mr. Thurston.” Relieved, he tracked down Em before the bell for seventh period and told her.
“JD, that’s great.” She hugged him. The hug caught Max by surprise, and he didn’t get the chance to hug her back. He handed her the phone and she tucked it in her purse.
“I think we should celebrate. It’s Friday, which means no school tomorrow, obviously. Why don’t you come over and we’ll order pizza and watch movies?” she offered.
“Sure. That sounds like fun.” He was going on a date with Em. If JD had known how, Max would have done a backflip.
“It won’t be a ton of fun. My parents are going out, which means my little brother will be there.”
“That’s cool. I like Noah.” Okay, not a date, but a night of pizza and movies with Emma McKay was still great.
“See you after school.” Max watched as she headed for her next class.
The kid who squirted root beer all over him walked by, laughing. “Dude, she is way out of your league.” He shook his head and strolled away.
But not even an obnoxious tenth-grader could bring him down today. Izzy’s surgery went well, and he’d spend the evening with the hottest cheerleader in all of New York, quite possibly the world.
After school, they went straight to her house. With time to kill before dinner, Em asked him to show her some more tricks, as she called them, on the computer.
“Em, they’re not tricks. The things I’ve shown you are how you work the program,” he laughed.
“Whatever,” she waved her hands at him. “Show me again how to insert smart pictures.” She sat down at the computer next to him.
“SmartArt you mean?” he grinned.
“Keep teasing me, and I’ll make sure they put anchovies on your half of the pizza.” She smiled innocently.
“Hello you two. I brought your little brother and the pizza.” Bev held the back door open for Noah, who came in carrying two pizzas.
“Hey, JD. Hope you like anchovies.” Unlike his sister, he flashed a mischievous grin.
“So, Napoleon, how was school?” Noah quoted back, not missing a beat.
“The worst day of my life, what do you think?” Max answered in his best Napoleon Dynamite voice.
“Man, I love that movie,” Noah said, stuffing a large slice of pizza in his mouth.
Max nodded, too busy filling his mouth to answer.
“Why don’t we watch it tonight? I haven’t seen Napoleon Dynamite in over a year.” Em sat down next to Max and picked up a bread stick.
Max thought about the last time they’d watched it. It was on their one year anniversary. The local theater offered a one day showing to help stimulate lagging summer sales. As they watched, they repeatedly quoted lines from the movie to each other, annoying several people around them. They moved to the back row to keep from being kicked out of the theater. And it was easier to sneak in some kissing there.
Em took the boxes of pizza into the family room as her parents left for a dinner date. “Don’t start the movie without me. I need to take a shower.” Noah shoved half a slice of pizza in his mouth.
“Noah, take one after,” Em complained.
“Ugh, Gosh,” Max quoted.
Noah laughed. “No way. I smell like your gym shoes.” He darted out of the room, narrowly escaping the TV remote she chucked at him.
“My gym shoes do not stink.” She picked up the remote and sat down next to him. Max smiled but said nothing. Noah had it right. Her gym shoes did smell pretty bad.
“I’ve been working on a photo journal. Want to see it?” She asked.
“Sure.”
Emma went to her room, returning with a large twelve inch by twelve inch photo album. She sat next to Max and opened the book to the first page. “These are tickets to a movie Max and I went to on our first official date.” She mounted them in the book alongside a miniature movie poster.
“Where did you get that?” Max pointed to the poster.
“I printed it off the web. See, I’m learning,” she beamed.
She had flyers from all the school dances they attended, tickets from the varies plays and movies they’d seen, and pictures. Dozens of pictures. Some mounted, some waiting to be mounted.