The Living Room (10 page)

Brenda entered the room. “I brought David over with me. His parents will be stopping by tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

“Of course, it’s great.” He coughed slightly.

“He asked to meet you. He says he’s never met an American before but heard your accent is quite funny.”

Daniel never thought of himself as having an accent and, between coughs, suggested, “Well, as you can see, I have a bit of a cold. I wouldn’t want to…”

He realized as he spoke that passing on a cold at this point was probably an irrelevant concern.

“Right, maybe I’ll just go up to say hello and amuse him with my accent,” he said sarcastically.

The climb up the stairs was difficult. His achy body strained and he tried to suppress his worsening cough.

“Hello, David. I’m Daniel.”

The boy responded as if he were the one that should be in the bed.

“Your voice isn’t that funny.”

“I’m sorry. I could try another one?” He attempted a laugh. Then he coughed louder, choosing to sit across the room out of consideration.

“Are you sick too?”

“Yes, I have a cold.”

“Well, that won’t kill you,” the boy said with a blank look in his eyes.

Silence.

Daniel sat up, reminding himself that, yes, of course he would recover. “So do you like cars?” he asked the boy.

“Not really. I’m too young to drive one, and I probably never will.” He had a calm understanding of his destiny.

“I see. Well, what kind of things do you like?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you like riding your bicycle?” Daniel noticed a helmet with stickers on it next to the bed.

“No,” David responded, somewhat puzzled, and then realized the object of Daniel’s attention.

“I have to wear that when I’m not in bed.”

“I see,” Daniel answered, noting the pain on his face from the embarrassment he’d surely felt from the teasing of other children. “Well, I think it’s a cool helmet. I’m just going to make something to eat. Do you want anything?”

“No thanks. I need to get some rest,” the boy continued to speak as if wise beyond his age.

“Okay, well get some rest, and I’ll come up and chat with you later, and I’ll bring a funnier voice next time.”

The boy, unimpressed, rolled over to sleep.

In the kitchen, Daniel tried to learn a little more about his new housemate from Brenda. “I noticed a helmet next to the bed. Does he have a concussion?”

“No, David has a tumor. It’s inoperable and taking over his brain. He gets faint sometimes and just doesn’t need any bumps to the head. Is it all right if I have some toast?” She changed the subject robotically.

“Yes, of course, as much as you want.” He wondered if he could now accept this kind of news and continue to eat and discuss topics so nonchalantly.

He gathered some snacks and headed to bed, coughing louder, which gained some attention from Brenda.

“I put some syrup next to the bed for you.”

“Thanks, Brenda,” he said after clearing his throat.

He was asleep when Claire arrived home. She went in to talk with David. She had known him for some time and her attachment to him was more than she wished for. They chatted for over an hour about their day and caught up on the latest medical news from one another. David read medical journals in hopes of finding a cure for himself. Exhausted from her day, and weary of Daniel’s cold, she fell asleep in the chair.

Daniel woke late in the evening and was concerned to find his bed half-empty. He labored up the stairs, struggling to keep his cough at a muted volume so as not to wake the boy. He discovered her asleep, holding the medical book she had obviously been reading to him. As he smiled, he unwillingly let out an unexpected cough, waking the two from their sleep.

“Daniel, what are you…what time is it?” she said, coming to her senses.

“I’m sorry, dear, and to you, David. I just came up to see if you were here.”

David was unimpressed. He also showed his protectiveness over Claire. “Well, we are both here and were both sleeping, until now.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“I’m coming to bed too. I’ll be right down,” Claire responded.

Claire gathered up her things, and David asked, “Do you share a bed with him?”

The question caught her off guard, but amused her at the same time.

“Go back to sleep, David.”

He rolled over and returned to sleep, his face showing signs of resentment.

Downstairs, she climbed into the bed and took Daniel’s hand, while allowing a distance between them because of his coughing, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I guess I fell asleep reading. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. It’ll get better. I’m not too sure our guest likes me very much, though.”

Claire smiled. “I’ve known David for about a year. Brenda says he’s a little jealous over me.”

“Well, he should be jealous.” Daniel coughed uncontrollably into his hand. “Just not tonight, I guess,” he added.

She turned out the light and they both struggled to sleep amidst the sounds his chest was making.

David’s parents arrived in the morning. They were quite pleased with the surroundings but wished he were home with them, just the same. He didn’t feel well today and complained of a high fever. They spent a few hours at his side and prepared to leave in order to give him time to rest.

Daniel sat alone in the kitchen reading the paper and was interrupted by the footsteps coming downstairs.

“Mr. Clay?” the mother said.

“Yes, come on in,” Daniel invited her.

“We just wanted to thank you for allowing David to stay.”

“Please have a seat.”

Both of David’s parents sat, at first just to be polite, but they ended up taking an hour to let out all they were keeping inside. Daniel learned about the rest of their family— David’s older brother and the sister two years younger—and the hole in their lives from not having David at home much anymore.

Daniel listened attentively and asked questions about their beliefs and experiences, trying to understand what it must feel like to manage life under such circumstances. They were brave and also scared, not thinking too far ahead with any plans.

After they left, he took to his bed to rest his body and throat, which were both tender after the visit and conversation. In bed, he could hear the boy moaning through the vent. David’s fever almost reached through the walls, calling out for relief. Daniel readied himself for a trip up the stairs. Though concerned about his own illness, he wanted to check on David to see if he could help in any way.

He found the boy covered in sweat, his eyes almost swollen shut with the fever. Daniel quickly masked his cough and pulled a chair up near to the bed. He tried to speak to David but Brenda interrupted him.

“Daniel,” she ordered in her loudest whisper, “back to bed, and let him sleep! You both need rest.”

“He’s burning up.”

“I know. I’m going to give him a shot in a minute that will help; now down you go.”

“All right, let me just say good night.” He was hinting for a moment of privacy.

Brenda left the room and retired to the kitchen to prepare the medication for David.

Outside the window, Daniel noticed the sun falling behind the waterline. The sky was just dark enough to display a few of the brighter stars. As before, he focused on the brightest one. “Hang in there, buddy. Brenda is coming back with something to help your fever.”

He checked over his shoulder to ensure that the two of them were alone and then took David’s hand. Turning his gaze toward the window, he placed his other hand on the boy’s forehead. Closing his eyes now, he prayed to himself.

“Please, Lord, he is too young to suffer this way. Take from me as you wish to help this boy and heal his pain. Heal him and the secret will be kept with me.”

Again and again, like a rehearsed mantra, he prayed for the boy’s relief from pain and spoke of gratitude for his own fortunes.

“Okay, Daniel, off to bed.” Brenda reappeared with the proper dosage. “Claire will be home soon.”

He wished them both a good night and retired slowly to his room, his cough now coming more frequently.

Chapter 11

As the sun rose, Daniel woke up with a worsening fever. Through the vent, he could hear Claire talking to David upstairs and wondered how he had missed her coming in last night.

Downstairs checking on her other patient, Claire asked, “How are you feeling this morning, sweetheart?”

“I didn’t even hear you come in last night, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, think nothing of it. I could see you were lucky to be asleep with that fever. I’m making you a special tea to bring it down, and I’m staying home today. Brenda had some things to take care of in town.”

They spent the morning together talking in bed about her family and the years of home care she had given her mother. Claire had no regrets, but it was obvious the responsibility had taken its toll on her.

Daniel had never witnessed his parents growing old, becoming sick, or needing assistance. He recounted the accident in which they had perished and how his life had changed from that day forward.

In the late afternoon, David called for Claire. She rushed up to see him. He was fine but showed a degree of jealousy over her time with Daniel.

“Can you please stay up here for a little while? It’s just a cold. You know he’ll be better in a few days.”

“Of course, I will stay. Let me get a cloth for your head, and we’ll go through that chapter in the new journal you wanted to hear about.”

“I don’t need a cloth today. Let’s just get to reading.”

“Well, can I get you anything? How does your head feel?”

“It’s great, actually, but I’m bored, and the only thing giving me a headache is all that coughing downstairs.”

Claire smiled as his protectiveness shone through the words. She picked up the medical journal and read aloud the paragraphs on tumor treatments and the latest radical therapies. David listened intently, as if every word were important to his own future. Claire tutored him chapter after chapter; case study findings and opinions from all over the globe were of interest to them both.

David was fixated on his nurse. He not only enjoyed her readings for the education, but also for the time alone with her. She was his angel and his first crush. He only wished that, in her presence, he were a man. Her every hand gesture, lip movement, and animated body motion electrified him. He often thought ahead to when the next opportunity to spend time with her would present itself.

The next morning, Daniel’s nurse woke him from a peaceful rest. But the one who sat beside him holding a thermometer was Brenda.

“I sure hope that’s for under my tongue,” he joked, hoping for a laugh.

“Of course it is, Daniel. I wouldn’t want to see your good side.”

Brenda took his temperature and shook her head in frustration with the noise that was taking place upstairs.

“My goodness,” she said, observing the ceiling.

When Daniel tried to inquire what was going on, her irritation was diverted toward him. “Don’t speak! And hold still.”

He waited until she finished attending to the thermometer and asked again, “What’s going on up there? Is everything okay?”

“He’s having one of his tantrums. There is a lot of anger in that young man.”

“What is he upset about?”

“The world, mostly. Today he’s upset because Claire’s not here. He’s feeling better, though, so I’ve called his parents to come and take him home.”

“Is it safe for him to go home?” Daniel remembered that he had not come here to heal.

“Hey, Brenda, can I ask you something?”

“You can ask,” she replied in a tone that said an answer shouldn’t be expected.

“Why do you like this flute music so much?” he referred to the record that she played every day that she was in charge.

“I guess it just reminds me of the past.”

“Why? Did you know the person on the record?”

Brenda stayed silent, hoping to avoid the conversation.

“Is it you playing?”

“Your temperature is still quite high. I’ll get you a new cloth.” She tried to avoid the subject.

“Brenda, I don’t mean to pry, but is that you playing on the record?”

“What if it is?” She was defensive. “You don’t seem to care much for it anyways.”

“No, I was just teasing you about it. Actually, it’s really good, I’m starting to get used to it. So do you play professionally?”

Brenda paused before her admission. “I did at one time, but it was a long time ago.”

She fidgeted with the cloth in her hands. It was obvious that she had never shared this secret with anyone before.

“Hearing about my life isn’t going to help your cold any, Daniel.” She stood to get him a new cloth.

“No, but it helps me know you better. And I’d like to.”

She felt the sincerity in his voice, so Brenda sat at the edge of the bed again to explain.

She relived the events as if they had happened the day before. “It was a long time ago. I had played the flute since I was about seven or eight. After my schooling was complete, I got married and wanted to start a family. I started playing for small gatherings to help out at home, so we could afford a child.

“I was offered the chance to go traveling with an orchestra for a year.” She smiled in remembrance. “But it was then that I became pregnant with our first and only son, Gregory Jr.

“Anyway, my son was born quite premature and he lived only a week short of seeing his first birthday.” The painful memories were now apparent on her face.

“I spent the entire year in that hospital, and every night, I would bring my instrument out and play for him. I guess I hoped it would help him in some way, but it didn’t.”

Daniel reached for her hand to comfort her.

“Nothing could have helped my son with the body he was born into.” She paused in reflection.

“But, those nurses, they tried everything. They helped me more than anyone to get through it. I admired them, and I wanted to be like them. So I packed away my flute, went to nursing school, and here I am today.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, and I’m sure your music helped more than you know.” Daniel squeezed her hand.

“So, do you still have your flute?” he asked.

“Oh probably, packed away somewhere.”

She thanked him for listening and felt an unfamiliar calmness about sharing a story that she had always assumed would be kept to herself.

Later in the day, David’s parents arrived to take him home. While they thanked Brenda for her care, David escaped the room to say a few words to Daniel while he lay in bed. This was the first time that Daniel saw him in his helmet. He tried to sit up straight to converse.

“Thank you for letting me stay here. I’m sorry about all the noise I made. Sometimes I get mad.”

“Don’t worry about it. Sometimes I get mad too. You’re welcome to come back anytime and visit.” He coughed loudly into his hands and struggled to maintain his posture, half-upright in the bed.

“Thanks.” David turned to leave the room but couldn’t. He could only make it to the doorway before he stopped again and, without gazing back, politely requested, “Take care of her. She helps a lot of people. She deserves to be taken care of.”

“I will. I promise I’ll take care of her every day, the best I can.”

Reluctantly accepting that it would never be him in Daniel’s place, the boy nodded and left the room. Daniel was left to ponder over his luck in finding such a jewel.

Once Claire returned home, they had a long talk about her day and then about how he was feeling physically. They wouldn’t be having any more visitors unless he was feeling up to it. She also informed him that she would take him with her to work in the morning to run some tests, to make sure he didn’t have pneumonia.

She tucked him in and stretched out on the couch on the other side of the room. She was exhausted but couldn’t sleep. Rest and relaxation came from staring at him, wondering in return how she was so fortunate to have met her mate.

By mid-morning, Daniel was sitting in a hospital room behind a curtain. Between coughs, he tried to make jokes about the robe he was wearing with nothing underneath. The humor was lost on the nurses. They had heard everything in the book over the years, but Claire protected his ego and smiled at the humor.

Dr. Abrams arrived and greeted Daniel with an almost forced grin. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Daniel.” No one bothered to correct the faux pas.

“Can I see you for a minute, Claire?”

“Wait, wait, I’m not one of the children here—I think it’s okay to talk in front of me.”

With that, Dr. Abrams spoke as if Daniel were not even in the room. “I’m ruling out pneumonia at this point, but I’m quite concerned about the blood cell counts.”

Claire stared awkwardly at Daniel as she pried more information from the doctor.

“Could he just be worn down from the cold?”

“Well, that’s what concerns me. There is no appearance of mucus in the chest or throat, which would indicate this as a cold, and other than coughing and tiredness, he has no symptoms. There is, however, an irregular amount of white blood cells in the esophagus region.”

“From all the coughing, perhaps,” Claire suggested.

The doctor, now a little uncomfortable, continued: “That wouldn’t cause the results shown in the tests. I’m going to run a few more and need a biopsy done. So you’ll be staying with us for a day or so, Mr. Daniel.” With that, he left the room.

Daniel was stunned and couldn’t comprehend all that had just taken place. He watched Claire for any response.

“Don’t worry, dear, I’ll work a double and be here with you all night. I’m sure he’s just ruling everything out. He’s
very
thorough. Let me get you some water.”

As she left from behind the curtain, the concern showed on her face. She rushed to catch up with the doctor to inquire further.

Daniel sat restlessly and thought back to when it all had started—with his painting outside the house. He had flashbacks, first of the cold weather and then of the paint fumes. He wondered if he had inhaled too much or had an allergic reaction.

When Claire returned, he suggested, “I think I know what it is!”

She seemed less concerned with his diagnosis than with the one she had just received from the doctor.

“I thought I had caught a cold from the weather, but I bet it’s a reaction to, or poisoning from, the paint fumes. They were so strong, I could almost taste them.”

He could see in her face that this wasn’t the likely cause, and that something more serious might be at hand.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot your water. I’ll be right back.” She kissed him gently and left him alone again to scrutinize recent occurrences.

He was pretty sure the paint was the culprit. It was certainly the easiest conclusion for him to accept.

That evening, while awake in his room, he tried to ignore the voice of concern replaying in his head and listened instead to the endless voices of others in the ward. He wondered what it must be like to work in such a place, and how much worse to live in one, especially for a child. Claire had pulled a few strings and had him placed on her ward for observation.

He shared a room with Ryan, a young boy whose parents visited regularly. He seemed quite ill. While everyone was introducing themselves, Daniel discovered that the boy suffered from what his father described as “shakes that could kill him.”

Daniel wouldn’t pry with questions and waited to learn more from Claire.

He thought back briefly to Isabelle, but the memory was still too painful. But then there was Matthew—his experience had been much happier. Daniel had enjoyed the trip in the car, their talks at the house, and all the smiles on Matthew’s face, smiles that wouldn’t have existed if he had been stuck in this place. Then his fond memories began to change. Those earlier moments of joy had been marred by Matthew’s constant coughing. Not unlike his own now.

He thought back to his moment alone on the porch and what he had said in his prayer and the site of the lump on little Matthew’s neck.

He froze for an instant then rushed to the bathroom to use the mirror. Tearing the gown from around his neck, he examined himself, touching and straining to see any irregularities. But everything appeared normal. After a few minutes, he returned to his bed and again went over all that had transpired that evening with Matthew. He remembered the exact words and promises he had made in his prayer—that God might take from him, and that he would not share the secret of such a miracle. His contemplations kept him up most of the night, but he didn’t share them with Claire.

By early morning, he had undergone a few more tests, including an x-ray and biopsy. Dr. Abrams gave the okay to return home and promised to call him as soon as the results were in.

While getting ready to leave, Daniel asked Claire about his roommate, Ryan. She explained that he had a condition with his spinal cord that triggered seizures. He had to wear a specially molded body cast for walking, travel, and just about every activity short of lying in bed. Daniel probed for more, but she was not interested in discussing the subject. She was concerned about him.

“Well, how long has he been here? Is it serious?”

Claire stopped packing his things and took a breath to recover her professional demeanor. “He’s been in and out a few times. Due to the fragile structure of his spine, a strong enough seizure could render him paralyzed, or worse.”

Having spent only one night in the depressing hospital room, he understood now more than ever the difference the room at home could make for a person.

“Can he travel safely?”

Claire realized the direction Daniel was steering the conversation.

“No, sweetheart, no more right now. We have to get you better first.”

“What for? I wouldn’t be the one taking care of him, and he may not have time to wait.”

“Let’s just get you home, and I’ll talk to his family,” she said without actually intending to.

As she left the room ahead of him, he stayed back. “Hey, Ryan, how would you like to get out of this place for a couple of days?” This drew the boy’s interest away from the upside-down book he was pretending to read.

“Really?”

“Yeah, Claire’s going to talk to your parents today about it, so I’ll see you soon, buddy.”