Elpida

by C. Kennedy

  “Congratulations, dude,” Michael said as he impaled a Gummy Bear with a toothpick and planted it in the Gummy Bear platform.

  “Where’s General Sotíras?” Jake asked.

  “He went to the city to spend the day with Ariel to discuss… matters,” Sophia finished ambiguously.

  Michael glanced at her. “Smart.”

  “Michael!”

  “Here comes the Terror of Wellington Ranch,” Zero said under his breath.

  Everyone burst into laughter, and Christy translated. Thimi shook with silent laughter and nodded his agreement.

  Darien climbed onto Christy’s lap without permission, and Christy made an oomph sound. “Thank you for the lollipop, Michael!”

  Michael looked up from the Gummy Bears. “You’re welcome. Don’t squash Christy.”

  “I’m not!”

  “He n-needs the rules,” Thimi said softly.

  Michael winked at Thimi.

  “He needs more than just rules,” George said. “How about some manners, kiddo?”

  Darien turned to Christy. “Can I please sit in your lap?”

  “Now you ask?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yes.”

  “’Kay.” Darien promptly put his elbows on the table, chin in hands, and watched Michael work.

  “My parents would have shot me if I climbed into someone’s lap like that,” Jorge said.

  Lisa cracked up. “Dude! With your size? For reals!”

  “Seriously,” Noah said through a laugh.

  “Great for football, though,” Michael said as he impaled another bear.

  “And other things,” Malvolio teased.

  Jorge’s cheeks turned beet red. “Shut up.”

  Michael planted the last of the Gummy Bears in the platform. “Okay, Thimi, hand me that part.”

  Thimi carefully handed the finely crafted top to the carousel to Michael. It took a bit of balancing and a few failed efforts, but Michael successfully affixed it to the toothpicks. “We need one more thing.” Michael dug in his pocket and withdrew a miniature flag he’d snatched from Anna’s cake decorating supplies. He carefully planted it at the top of the carousel. “Ta-da!”

  “Whoa! That’s savage!” Stephen exclaimed.

  Darien reached for it, and Michael caught his wrist. “Not a chance, Darien. It’ll fall.”

  “Well, ain’t that somethin’?” Mel said.

  Gav gave Michael a thumbs-up. “Pretty lit, man.”

  “Who knew?” Jake teased.

  “That’s not art, it’s crafts,” Jerry protested.

  Stephen elbowed Jerry in the side. “For Michael, that’s fine art. Trust me.”

  Christy laughed softly. “Jerry, this is the true masterpiece. He is the Michelangelo of the Gummy Bear.”

  Michael half laughed as he slowly pushed the paper plate holding the carousel to Thimi. “You may want to put it on a better plate.”

  “Th-thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Michael resealed the bag of Gummy Bears and pushed it to Thimi too. “Plenty left over to eat.”

  “How are we doing here?” Rob asked as he joined them.

  Sophia smiled. “Very well, Rob.”

  He whistled softly when he saw the carousel. “Did Michael make that for you?”

  Thimi nodded.

  “I used all the toothpicks,” Michael confessed.

  “I think we’ll survive.”

  Mac and Bobbie walked up next to Rob, and Michael couldn’t prevent his surprise. “Hey, Dad, Mom. What are you doing here?”

  “Is this a teens-only barbecue?” Bobbie asked.

  “No, ’cause I’m here!” Darien shouted.

  “Keep your voice down,” Rob said as he lifted Darien from Christy’s lap.

  “It’s outside!”

  “True, but even your outside voice is too loud.”

  “Everybody, this is my dad and mom, Dr. Sattler, and my mom will get tense if you don’t call her Bobbie,” Michael introduced.

  Mel stood and offered Bobbie his seat. “I’m Mel, the new kid on the block.”

  Bobbie smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mel. Boston accent?”

  He laughed. “Boston south, ma’am. That’d be Georgia. Mighty fine to meet ya.”

  Mel shook Mac’s hand vigorously. “Nice to meet ya, Doc. I’ve heard real good things about ya.”

  “The pleasure is all mine. I’ll spare you my company for the moment. Jerry, may I look at your cast?”

  “I get it off today?” Jerry whacked the cast on the edge of the table as he jumped up from his seat.

  “Provided you haven’t done further damage to your arm, yes.”

  “I got some feeling back in my fingers!”

  “That’s wonderful to hear. Let’s have a look, shall we?”

  Dr. Jordanou approached, spoke to Thimi in Greek, and Christy stood and held a hand out to Thimi.

  “Need help?” Michael asked.

  Christy shook his head. “Dr. Jordanou wish your father to look at the cast.”

  Mel took a seat next to Zero, and Lisa suddenly laughed. “You must get awful tired of taking care of all these injuries, Dr. Sattler.”

  Bobbie smiled. “It’s what we do.”

  Michael studied his mom. She was right. His mom and dad would be lost if they couldn’t take care of kids.

  She continued, “Although, I think Michael has arrived at a point in his life where he will no longer visit the office.”

  “I don’t fit in a fourteen-inch plastic chair, and I’m so over the fish tank.”

  Malvolio snorted. “Your dad’s a pediatrician?”

  Michael nodded. “He’s immune to snot, barf, and diarrhea.”

  Everyone cracked up, and Bobbie smacked his arm.

  “What? You can’t deny it.”

  An alarm suddenly sounded with a loud whoop-whoop and everyone jumped.

  “What in hell is that?” Jake shouted above the noise.

  “New perimeter alarm!” Mel shouted as he left the table and trotted to the house.

  The noise quieted as abruptly as it began, and everyone breathed a sigh in relief.

  “Holy crap, that was loud,” Lisa exclaimed.

  Mel came trotting back to the table. “Now that’s what I call a deer catcher.”

  Zero huffed. “A deer catcher?”

  “The deer comin’ outta the woods on the back forty are settin’ it off.”

  “They can move the sensors,” Jake said. “We had to do that in our backyard because opossums kept setting it off.”

  “Michael?”

  Michael looked up to find Christy exiting the main house looking distraught. He stood immediately. “What’s up?”

  “I wish the help.”

  “Do you want my help too, Christy?”

  Christy shook his head. “No thank you, Bobbie.”

  Michael guided Christy back to the house with a gentle hand to his elbow. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you remember the day of the Bread shirt from the painting song? When you hold me on the lap for the examination of your father because I am very afraid?”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “Thimi needs this. He is afraid of the thing to remove the cast, and Dr. Jordanou wishes to hold the arms and the legs with the force. He cannot touch him like this. Thimi has no shirt, and the big scar on the back, and he cries.”

  “I’ll help.” They strode across the main room of the house and into a small room that Michael had never seen before. It looked like a typical nurse’s office. Thimi sat huddled in a small ball in the corner of the room, sobbing, his face pressed tightly against the wall.

  “Dad?”

  “His cast is cracked, and I’m going to replace it.”

  “Did you show him it doesn’t cut skin?”

  “He watched me remove Jerry’s cast.”

  “Can we show him how it works on my hand?”

  “Jerry should not be here,” Christy whispered.

  Micha
el turned to Jerry. “Take a hike for ten minutes, little dude.”

  “Dr. Sattler said to wait.”

  “Wait for me in the hallway,” Mac said quickly.

  Jerry pouted but left the room, and Michael turned back to Christy. “How do you want to do this?”

  “Sit here on the cot like you did at the school.” Michael did so and scooted so he could lean back against the wall. “Okay, like this, we will show Thimi it does not cut the skin. You will be the test.”

  Christy spent five minutes coaxing Thimi from the corner. He cried but eventually came away from the wall, and it broke Michael’s heart to see him so upset.

  “You will see this on Michael. It does not cut the skin,” Christy explained as he pulled Thimi to him, Thimi’s back against his chest, and wrapped his arms around Thimi. “Okay, you make the test now.”

  Michael held a flat palm out. “Go for it, Dad.”

  Mac gently set the blade in Michael’s palm, and it cut nothing and slowed to a stop.

  Michael smiled. “It tickles.” Christy translated. “Explain that the blade doesn’t turn. It vibrates back and forth.” Christy translated, and the explanation seemed to go on forever.

  “I tell of the story at school when you hold me so your father can check the heart. He will sit with you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do not worry, Thimi. Michael sees the scars of me. It does not bother him.”

  Michael gave Thimi what he hoped was a reassuring nod, and Thimi slowly moved to sit between Michael’s knees at the edge of the cot. Michael winced when he saw Thimi’s back. It was no less littered with scars than Christy’s was—thin long scars, deep gouging scars, and jagged running scars as if someone had carved into him with a spoon, all placed to form a macabre semblance of the Greek letter upsilon—Yosef’s initial. They were loud, they were cruel, they were hideous, and they spoke to the utter brutality that had been inflicted on Thimi. Michael closed his eyes briefly as he recalled the initials branded on Christy’s inner thigh. He tensed his muscles briefly in an effort to dispel the imaginary pain of someone doing the same to him.

  Christy continued issuing instructions. “Okay, like this, Michael puts the hands on the legs.” Michael rested his hands on his thighs. “Okay, now, Thimi go back.” He gently guided Thimi to lean back against Michael’s chest. “Okay, Michael turns the hand up like this and Thimi put the cast in Michael’s hand.” Michael cradled Thimi’s cast gently in his hand. “Okay, now, like this, Dr. Sattler makes the small test on the skin of Michael then the small test on the skin of Thimi.”

  “How about if Thimi holds your hand with his free hand?” Michael suggested.

  “This is the good idea.” Christy held Thimi’s hand, and he gripped it fiercely. “Okay. You are ready for the test?”

  Thimi looked frightened as hell but nodded his okay, and Mac gently placed the blade first against Michael’s hand, then against Thimi’s hand. Thimi withdrew his hand fast, accidentally elbowing Michael in the stomach, and he chuckled as Thimi inspected his palm.

  “See? It does not cut you. Now you can do this?”

  Thimi sniffed and nodded.

  “Okay, Michael holds the cast and Dr. Sattler will remove it.”

  Mac had the cast off in minutes, and Michael felt the tension leave Thimi’s small body in a wave as he leaned back against him.

  “This is very good. Dr. Sattler save the small writing of me for you.” Mac presented Thimi with the section of cast bearing Christy’s inscription. “Now Dr. Jordanou make the exam.”

  Michael picked up the cracked portion of the cast and studied it. “It takes a lot to crack a cast. How’d he do it?”

  Christy rolled his eyes. “Darien make us fall.”

  “Did you get hurt?” Michael asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Only the small problem with the foot and rib.”

  Mac smiled. “I’ll take a look at you in a moment.”

  Christy sighed. “I have the discussion with Rob. I do not need the picture. I am good.”

  “Would you be offended if I said I think I’m more qualified than you to make that decision?” Mac teased.

  “No. But I am good and do not need the picture.”

  “You’re limping.”

  “It is the small limp. I do not need the picture.”

  Michael stifled a smile as he watched his dad deal with Christy’s obstinacy.

  Mac chuckled. “Can you raise your arms above your head?”

  “I do not try this. I do not need the picture.”

  Michael could hardly contain his laughter. “He won’t be happy until you let him look at you, babe.”

  “Okay. The small look but no picture.”

  “I’ll do my best to limit my looking.”

  “This is good.”

  Michael finally laughed aloud. “Good luck, Dad.”

  Dr. Jordanou couldn’t help but chuckle. “Christophoros, you have not changed.”

  “This is not true. I am the little bit less stubborn.”

  “Really?” Michael teased.

  “This is really,” Christy insisted.

  Still chuckling, Dr. Jordanou finished examining Thimi’s wrist. “I think I can recast it. Everything seems to be in place.”

  “All right, young man, pick your color.” Mac held out a sampling of cast colors.

  Thimi spoke in Greek, and Christy explained. “He has the surprise for the many color and makes the choice of purple.”

  “What a surprise,” Michael deadpanned. Mac smiled.

  “Thimi, let’s get you up on the table so we can make a new cast.”

  “Do you want me to lift you up there?” Michael whispered to him, and he nodded. “Okay, here we go.” Michael cradled Thimi’s small frame in his arms and stood, still surprised by how little he weighed.

  “Christy, let me take a look at you while Dr. Jordanou takes care of the cast.”

  “Only the small look.”

  “I promise I’ll be conservative. Take your shirt off for me.”

  “No.”

  Mac’s brows shot up in surprise at the rare defiance. “Is there a particular reason you do not want to take your shirt off?”

  “I have the experience with you for the bruise of Michael. You will see the bruise, make the big deal, and want the picture.”

  “I see. Well, I’m sorry to say it’s my job to inspect your bruises.”

  Christy’s brow contorted in irritation, but he acquiesced. When he struggled to remove his long-sleeved T-shirt, Michael came to the rescue and pulled it over his head.

  Mac whistled softly. “Bet that hurts.”

  Michael’s jaw dropped. The bruise on Christy’s side resembled raspberry-and-blue roadkill. “Holy crap, babe. What’d you do?”

  “I tell you this. Darien makes us fall.”

  “Raise your arms above your head,” Mac instructed.

  “It is like before. I lift one arm.”

  “Can you raise the other arm at all?”

  Christy made a concerted effort but couldn’t raise it above shoulder height.

  Mac palpated his side gently, and he blanched. “You need the picture,” Mac imitated Christy, and Michael had to turn away to keep from cracking up.

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No. Today is the barbecue. No picture.”

  “Tomorrow you get the picture.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let’s take a look at your foot.”

  “Tomorrow with the picture,” Christy negotiated.

  Michael was dying inside trying to hold back his laughter.

  Dr. Jordanou turned from his completed cast efforts and smiled at Mac. “Your patient has become rather bold.”

  “I believe he is our patient.”

  “No more,” Dr. Jordanou said whimsically.

  Mac sighed. “He has most certainly put his newfound confidence to use.” He made a rotating motion with his finger. “Shoe, sock, and ACE bandage off.”
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  Christy sat on the cot, Thimi said something in Greek, and Christy responded in kind. Thimi suddenly smiled the biggest smile Michael had seen yet.

  “What’d you say, babe?”

  Dr. Jordanou chuckled. “He said you told him he was a boss, and one day Thimi will be a boss as well.”

  Michael couldn’t take it anymore. He burst into laughter.

  Mac sighed long and loud. “My son makes my job difficult.”

  “Sorry not sorry, Dad,” Michael said still laughing. “Holy crap! Christy! Your foot!”

  “It only has the bad look. It is the same foot.”

  “Stand, please,” Mac instructed. Christy did on his good foot. “Put your foot down, please.” Christy did so grudgingly. “Stand normally, please.”

  “If I do this, the foot does not always work. It was good on the waterfront. Today I am tired and it is not good.”

  “Tomorrow we take the picture of the foot,” Mac mimicked.

  “Okay,” Christy said through a disappointed sigh as he sat and rewrapped his foot in the ACE bandage.

  “Any other injuries I should know about?”

  “No.”

  Mac wasn’t convinced. “Any aches or pains?”

  Christy scrunched his face. “The one thigh does not let me bend easily.”

  “Tomorrow we take the picture of the thigh too.”

  Christy finally looked at Mac. “You tease me.”

  Mac nodded with a smile. “I do. I am the boss of the medical care.”

  Now Christy smiled. “You are the good boss.”

  “Thank you. You are the stubborn patient.”

  “This is the little bit true.”

  “I brought something for you. It’s a therapy boot. Use it instead of your shoe.”

  Mac squatted, held it open for Christy to insert his foot, and fastened it with Velcro. “That will keep your foot from rotating and allow it to heal.”

  “Oh, it has the strange part here.”

  “That part keeps your heel free while it keeps your foot stable. I don’t want undue pressure on your leg, which is still healing from a fracture. Stand again, please.”

  Christy stood and slowly put weight on his foot. “Oh, this is good. Now I have the good foot and do not need the picture.”

  Mac nodded. “I still get my picture.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  BY THE time they returned to the barbecue, the sun was a bright orange blaze low in the sky, and everyone sat around a concrete fire pit toasting marshmallows for s’mores.