We Own the Sky

by Luke Allnutt

  “Look at all the lasers, Jack,” I said, after the nurse had come to take his blood. In the private room, where Jack would have his first infusion, there were white instruments, machines that looked like space cannons, but Jack wasn’t looking at them. He was staring down into his lap.

  “Daddy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Am I having the medicine?”

  “Well,” I said, hesitating, “it’s a different medicine. But it’s going to help make you better.”

  Jack was silent, didn’t look convinced.

  I started showing Jack something on the iPad, when Dr. Sladkovsky came into the room. He walked over to a cart, shook out a pill from a bottle and put it in a small medicine cup.

  “Now,” he said, “we would like to give Jack a light sedative, if that’s okay. But I do need your permission for that. It just makes the process more relaxing for the patient. Is that okay? It’s extremely fast-acting.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “Good. Jack, will you take this little pill?” the doctor said, holding out the cup and a glass of water.

  “Okay,” he said, expertly putting the pill on his tongue and swallowing with a quick sip.

  “Wow, what a skillful boy,” the doctor said, and Jack smiled proudly. “Now, we’re going to start. You can be my helper if you want, Jack. Or you can be the doctor and I can be your helper. Would you like that?”

  Jack shrugged and looked at me as if I had an answer. A nurse came in and they put a cannula into his arm. Jack stared at a calendar on the wall with beach scenes from Thailand. A woman wearing a long white dress looking out to sea.

  I looked at my phone to see if Anna had called or texted, but there was nothing. Perhaps I should tell her now. Instead of her discovering the note on the hall table.

  “Okay, Jack, that was the worst part. You won’t even feel it going in now,” Dr. Sladkovsky said, taking off his gloves.

  “So,” he said, turning to me. “First of all, we’re going to do a little injection of the blood.”

  “This is the blood that has been engineered with the vaccine?” I said.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “From the blood that the nurse just took?”

  “Yes, exactly. We don’t want to keep pricking him, so we just use the blood we took when we did the readiness tests.”

  “It...it just...it all just seems so quick,” I said, and I was sure that I had once read something about that on Hope’s Place, about how quickly the clinic accepted patients.

  Dr. Sladkovsky shrugged. “We treat over one hundred people a day. It’s very normal for us.”

  A nurse wheeled in a drip stand with three large bags of a urine-colored liquid.

  “And this is the second part,” Dr. Sladkovsky said, wheeling the cart closer to him. “These are the various compounds and minerals that allow the blood to settle and disperse properly.”

  “It’s a lot of liquid,” I said, unable to imagine it all going through Jack’s body.

  “Yes, it is. Don’t be alarmed, though. We have found that patients tolerate it better when it’s more diluted. As Jack is being infused, you will find that he needs to go to the bathroom a lot...

  “Jack,” the doctor said, picking up two syringes full of blood from a cooling container.

  “Is that mine? Is that my blood?”

  “Yes, it is, and this is what’s going to help you get better. Now, it might feel a little cold but it won’t hurt. I promise.”

  “Ooo, it’s cold. The blood is cold,” Jack said excitedly, as Dr. Sladkovsky injected the first syringe into the cannula.

  “And does it hurt?”

  “No,” Jack said. “Doesn’t hurt.”

  “You see, I told you,” the doctor said. “It’s not like that nasty chemotherapy.”

  Soon Jack had fallen asleep, and I listened to the sound of the pump, imagining his T-cells rallying, steeling themselves for one final battle.

  I looked at my phone again, but there was still nothing from Anna. I wasn’t sure what she would do when she found out. I hoped she would come to Prague, that she wouldn’t call the police or get the embassy involved. That wasn’t her style, though, to make a fuss, to make a public show of things.

  What else could I do? After all those endless conversations, I knew she wouldn’t change her mind. But if she were here, forced by my hand, she could meet Dr. Sladkovsky, she could see how the clinic worked. In London, it was an option too abstract to be considered.

  I wouldn’t tell her yet. I would wait just a little longer. I needed more time, to get Jack properly started on the treatment. I looked at my phone again. It was seven o’clock in Prague, and the UK was an hour behind, so I texted her:

  Everything is fine here. Jack is happy, taking a nap now. How is your mom? x

  I waited for a response but it didn’t come. It had always been a joke between us: how quickly Anna would respond to text messages. Why wait? she would say. You only forget to answer. Jack was still sleeping, so I checked my email on my phone and there was a message from Nev.

  Subject: Re: Jack

  Sent: Tue Dec 16, 2014 1:05 am

  From: Nev

  To: Rob

  Dear Rob,

  Just a quick e-mail to wish you all well. Hope you arrived safely and everything is going as well as can be expected.

  I told Josh that Jack was going for treatment in Prague and he drew him a little picture. I scanned it and am attaching it to this email.

  Take care of yourselves and let me know if there’s anything I can do.

  Nev

  I opened the attachment. There was a drawing of a little boy, with a bandage around his head, sitting in a hospital bed. Next to him, two dinosaurs dressed as nurses were carrying a tray. All of this was happening outside on the grass, under a blazing yellow sun.

  * * *

  Jack stayed the night at the clinic for observation. It was a precaution, they said, something they did with all their new patients. Anna had called last night and I closed Jack’s door, in case she would hear the unfamiliar sounds of the clinic in the corridor outside. Jack was in bed asleep, I said, which wasn’t actually a lie.

  The next morning, I woke in a chair next to the bed, still drowsy and stiff, and saw Dr. Sladkovsky standing over Jack, his finger pushing a pill onto his tongue.

  “Good morning,” the doctor said. “Just giving Jack his morning medications.”

  I turned to Jack, who was smiling, sitting up in bed, a blood-pressure cuff still around his arm, a plate of toast next to him on a tray-table. “How are you feeling, beautiful?” I said.

  “Fine,” Jack said. “I had cheese toast, but not special cheese toast. They don’t have that here.”

  “That’s great, Jack, you’ve done really well.”

  Just then, my phone chimed and it was a text message from Anna.

  Mom’s still in intensive care and not very responsive. I miss Jack so much and want to come home, but I can’t leave her now. How is he doing? Will call in a bit. x

  I gazed at Jack. I had not seen him look so well in a long time. His cheeks were rosy; his hair had regained its shine. When he spoke, there was a sparkle in his eyes.

  Dr. Sladkovsky, who had been busy filling in Jack’s chart, turned to me and lowered his voice so Jack couldn’t hear. “I do have some good news for you,” he said. “While it’s quite early, it seems that Jack is undergoing an extraordinary response to the treatment. His protein markers are excellent. We’ve not seen anything like it for a long time.”

  The doctor took out a piece of paper and traced a line on a graph with his finger. “Yes, these are very good. His GML and CB-11.”

  “These are the blood proteins, right?” I said.

  “Yes, blood proteins, exactly. They’re very sensitive indicators. It’s one
of the ways we track how well the treatments are working. Put simply, it’s a measurement of how well his immune system is fighting the cancer.”

  I was breathless, the hairs prickling on the back of my neck. In all of the consultations with Jack’s doctors, we had never once received even a slither of good news.

  “I... I... I didn’t know that you would be able to tell that it’s working so soon.”

  “Actually, Mr. Coates, this is what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, with immuno-engineering, it’s like riding a wave and it’s all about maximizing that wave as much as possible. Do you see what I mean?”

  “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I do.”

  “My apologies, please forgive my bad English. Let me try to explain it to you another way. Jack’s body is fighting hard now. Very hard. You see his red cheeks, how he has become more engaged, alert. Well, that’s his body working overtime, what we call an immune response. This is good, a very excellent sign. Now, in previous patients we’ve found that now is a good time to boost and to give him another infusion.”

  I looked at Jack again, playing a game on the iPad, a game that a week ago he had lost interest in. Dr. Sladkovsky was right. Something had happened. He was more alert, unrecognizable to the boy he was before. Jack looked up at me and smiled, his eyes as big as saucers, the dark shadows that had eclipsed them were now almost gone.

  “So move the next treatment forward you mean?”

  “Yes, exactly, Mr. Coates. He was due his next round in three days, but we would recommend doing another today. It would mean him staying here today for observation.”

  “I understand,” I said, taking out my phone. “But, if you can give me a second, I just need to check something.”

  “Of course,” the doctor said, averting his eyes as I logged into my banking app. The savings had already been transferred.

  “Okay, let’s do it,” I said, and Dr. Sladkovsky smiled and nodded to the nurse.

  “Excellent,” the doctor said, as the nurse handed him a clipboard. “I do, however, need you to sign another consent form. We are bound by EU law on dosage procedures and are required to get your compliance for the shortening of time between doses.”

  After I signed the form, I went outside into the corridor, lined with photographs of Sladkovsky’s survivors, and felt a tingle up my spine. What if Jack was really getting better? It had worked with Josh. Why not Jack?

  I knew that I had to call Anna. If she came here and saw him, she would change her mind. I wanted her to see the color in his cheeks, to see how he mouthed along to Trevor the Train. I wanted her to see how, for the first time in weeks, he happily and absentmindedly devoured a piece of toast.

  “Hi, darling,” Anna said, picking up the phone.

  “Hi. How’s your mom?”

  “Well, she’s actually much better. It was touch and go before, but it seems she’s making a miraculous comeback.”

  “Oh, that’s good news,” I said, and I knew now I would have to tell her.

  “Yes, she’s now sitting up in bed, ordering the nurses around. They think she’ll make a full recovery.”

  “Ah, I’m glad,” I said.

  “And how’s Jack?” Anna said, and I could feel my heart beating faster.

  “He’s very well, playing on his iPad.”

  “Really, that’s good, he’s not been doing much of that recently, has he?”

  “No, actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about...”

  I paused, my mouth suddenly incredibly dry.

  “Rob, is everything okay? Is everything okay with Jack?” I could hear the panic in her voice. “Rob? Rob? Speak to me.”

  “Anna. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Oh, God, it’s not Jack, is it.”

  “Anna, he’s fine. It’s just...just...”

  “Just what? Rob? What’s happened?”

  “We’re in Prague.”

  “You’re in Prague,” she said. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand. What do you mean, you’re in Prague?”

  Static on the line, an inhalation of breath. And then a pause, a rustle, and the sound of a chair being dragged across a floor.

  “Oh, Rob, please tell me you’re not at that clinic.”

  “Anna, please, just hear me out.” My voice was shaking, and I was pacing up and down the corridor. “I know I shouldn’t have taken him, it was wrong, but please, please listen to me. He’s doing so well, Anna, he’s responding to the treatment and he’s never been better. There’s color in his cheeks, he’s laughing and joking like never before... It’s unbelievable, you have to see him.”

  “Wait, what? I can’t believe what you’re telling me. You mean, he’s already doing the treatment? Please tell me he isn’t, Rob, please tell me that’s not true.”

  “I’m sorry, I know I should have told you. He’s just started, but already they’re seeing results—already. These proteins they use as markers are way up. It’s amazing, you can actually see it in him, how his body is fighting this. Anna, please, you have to come and see it for yourself. I’m so sorry I took him, but it was the only way and it’s working, Anna, it’s really working.”

  “Is this for real, Rob?” Anna asked, and her voice cut like a cold knife. I could hear the spittle, the anger. “I just can’t believe you would do this, I just can’t believe it...”

  “Anna, I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be, but please, please, I’m begging you, just come. Please come and see how well he’s doing.”

  Anna did not speak, and I listened to her short, rapid breaths. “I just don’t know what to say. You have kidnapped our son, our dying son, when you are supposed to be looking after him.”

  “Please, Anna, just come, you need to.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me what to do. I’ve a good mind to call the police, but of course you know very well I would never do that. How long have you been planning this, Rob? A week, a month? I bet you couldn’t believe your luck when my mother fell ill... I forbid you to allow any more treatments, do you hear me, Rob? Are you listening? I forbid you. I will be on the next flight over to bring Jack back home.”

  I tried to speak but she interrupted, her voice shaking with rage. “I will never ever forgive you for this, Rob. Never,” she said, and then put down the phone.

  I took a deep breath, feeling my chest tighten, and went back into the room to see Jack. He was smiling to himself and watching something on the iPad. Anna would be on her laptop now, booking the next available flight. I looked at Jack, hungrily stuffing bits of banana into his mouth. When she saw him, I knew she would understand.

  * * *

  Jack was waiting by the window and saw Anna’s taxi arrive outside. We had stayed the night in a flat connected to the clinic and were given an emergency number to call if Jack experienced any side effects. The flat was clean and bright, like an upmarket city hotel, with modern white furnishings, a space-age kitchen, and a flat-screen TV.

  “Mommy!” Jack shouted as we opened the door.

  “Jackie,” she said, holding out her arms and embracing him. “Oh, I missed you so much. Come on, let’s go inside. It’s freezing.”

  “Was the flight okay?” I said as we walked up the stairs, but Anna didn’t answer, would not meet my eyes.

  She looked around the flat, as if she was inspecting it, and then sat down with Jack on the couch, and he showed her some little Matchbox cars we had bought at the airport.

  After Anna went to read Jack a story and he fell asleep for his afternoon nap, she came back into the living room and sat on a curved plastic chair in the corner.

  “I am so angry right now,” she said quietly, in a breathless tone I had never heard before. “You take our terminally ill son on a plane to Prague and you don’t tell me. I can’t believe you would do that.”

  “I
’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but it was...”

  “Are you an idiot, Rob? I could have called the police. I would have been well within my rights to do that. And did you not think about Jack? About the impact this could have on his health?”

  “As I said, I’m very sorry. But I did it for Jack. I did what I thought was right.”

  “Yes, you’ve made that quite clear.”

  “Did you see him, Anna? Did you see how well he looks?”

  “Yes, he does look good and I’m glad. But he always looks well after he’s finished chemo.”

  “God, Anna, look at him. When he’s awake, really look at him,” I said, raising my voice a little, causing Anna to check that the door to Jack’s bedroom was properly shut. “He’s like a different person since he’s been here. Everything has improved. His appetite has got better, his speech is better. The doctor said both of those things can be a sign of tumor shrinkage. He’s...”

  “And can you tell me exactly what treatments he’s received?”

  “Well, as I said on the phone, he’s had two rounds of immuno-engineering.”

  Anna held her head in her hands. “I still can’t believe this, Rob. How could you even do this?”

  “But he’s responding really well,” I said. “Much better than with chemo. There are no side effects, none at all.”

  “So are you a doctor now? Who even knows what he’s being given.”

  I took a deep breath. “Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere, is it? Again, I’m sorry for taking him, for lying to you. But I just didn’t see any other way and you refuse to discuss it.”

  “Refuse to discuss it? We have had endless—endless—conversations about the clinic. We talk about it all the time. In fact, it’s all you want to talk about. You’re obsessed.”

  “Right, I’m obsessed.” I went over to the sideboard and poured myself some whiskey I had bought in the duty-free shop. Anna eyed the glass and then looked away. “As I said, we think differently. I was desperate, and I’m doing what I think is right for my son.”

  “Oh, please don’t even begin to try to make me feel sorry for you, after what you’ve done. All this desperate Dad stuff. Because everything, Rob, everything you’re going through I’m going through, as well,” she said through clenched teeth. “Do you think I wanted to leave Jack and look after my mother? Can you imagine how that made me feel, having to leave him like that? My little boy.”