by M. D. Thomas
Harvey turned off the radio, tired of hearing about the flooding that was going to hit the city. Harvey didn’t care if they were in the middle of a hundred-year flood or a thousand.
It was him… but which one?
I shouldn’t have left Nonno…
Once he was back in Nonna’s neighborhood he drove down the street where he’d seen the kid. It was dark of course, the lights fragmented through the drops of rain, but Harvey half expected to see the kid standing on the same corner.
He stopped outside the house but didn’t kill the engine, instead stared at the rain illuminated by the headlights. Nonna hadn’t said much, but Harvey knew she was worried. She’d done her best to keep Nonno out of managed care, not only because she wanted to care for her husband herself, but also because she’d always worried about how many patients got ill in those facilities. Now she was faced with the prospect of an indeterminate amount of time in Rainbow Pines and the very real possibility that Nonno might die sooner than she’d expected.
All because I tried to chase down the kid…
That sent his mind off toward the boy again, which led back to Nonno, which led—
Do what Nonna asked you to do, came a thought. Do at least that much for her…
Harvey got out of the car and trudged down the sidewalk, unconcerned about the water that soaked his shirt and hair.
The porch was dark, unlit because of Nonna’s hurried exit. She’d remembered to lock the door though and it took him a moment to find the right key. Once inside, he found the house lit only by the kitchen fixture, a wash of light that spilled weakly into the hallway ahead of him.
Harvey closed the front door and blocked out the sound of the rain. He dripped down the hallway to Nonna and Nonno’s bedroom, didn’t bother to turn on any lights as he went—he could’ve made his way to their bedroom even without the kitchen light.
Harvey switched on the stand lamp in the corner of their bedroom and went to the small closet. He dug out a brown leather overnight bag that must have been as old as he was, set it down on the bed, then walked to the large bureau that housed Nonna and Nonno’s clothes. He went through the drawers and gathered enough for each of them for two days.
When he turned around, the kid was on the bed.
The clothes dropped from Harvey’s limp hands and landed in a pile at his feet. The buzz filled his ears again.
The kid sat right in the middle of the bed, his legs crossed beneath him. He was dressed in full Pirate uniform, everything from the hat down to the socks and cleats, even the blue and red piping trim. Again there was something wrong about his appearance, but Harvey still couldn’t put his finger on it.
When Harvey spoke his voice was rough. “What do you want?”
The kid’s only answer was to take the ball out of his glove and begin to toss it in the air. It went just up to the ceiling, so close Harvey thought it would surely hit, but then fell right back into the glove again without the kid shifting an inch. He did it again. Then again. Up to just kiss the ceiling, then right back down to catch it in the glove.
It’s as big as the moon, Harvey thought as he watched the ball go up and down, and finally he realized what was wrong about the kid’s appearance. The house had been locked and the kid must’ve followed him inside, but from the blue brim of his hat, to the crisp white of his jersey and pants, the kid was dry from head to toe.
There’s not a speck of water on him anywhere…
“You’re really him,” Harvey said, and the knot that’d been tied inside of him on the night of the accident finally unraveled. “You’re in my head. Have been ever since I realized you were in the car that night. That you got hurt.”
The corner’s of the kid’s mouth turned up a hair. And all the time the ball still went up to kiss the ceiling, then down to catch, and Harvey couldn’t take his eyes off of it.
As big as the moon…
“I tried to avoid your car,” Harvey said as his eyes followed the ball up and down, up and down, as the buzzing in his ears increased. “But it was too late. Then I thought everyone in the car was okay. Your dad. Your mom. I didn’t know about you until later.”
It was the first time he’d spoken the words aloud and the admission… eased him. There was no soothing away of the guilt, no lessening, just a lightening of the burden of denial.
The ball, which had been rising and falling as regular as a metronome, landed in the glove and was left there.
The buzzing in Harvey’s ears ceased.
And the kid smiled.
Harvey picked the clothes up off the floor and packed them in the overnight bag. He grabbed the bag and went across the hall to their bathroom, added everything he thought his grandparents would need.
When Harvey came out of the bathroom the kid stood in the hallway, the ball tucked away in his glove. They stared at each other for a moment and then the kid used the glove to gesture toward the kitchen. Harvey nodded and walked past, glanced back once to see the kid watching him but not following.
He didn’t bother to sort through the meds on the corner of the kitchen counter, just shoved them all into the bag, maybe a dozen pill bottles. Some might be Nonna’s, but she’d need her meds as well.
The kid was nowhere in sight when Harvey walked out of the kitchen. Harvey left the house, locked the door behind him, and wondered if that was that as he headed through the darkness and rain to his car.
It wasn’t though, because the kid was in the back of the Cherokee when Harvey slid into the driver’s seat and tossed the overnight bag onto the passenger seat. The kid sat in the middle of the rear bench, his face dimly lit by the street lights. To Harvey’s surprise his presence was comforting. He pulled away from the curve, sliced through the rain as he drove back to Rainbow Pines.
Thirty-Six
JON
Jon’s head throbbed from the hit he’d taken. Or perhaps from too much beer. Probably both. Didn’t matter which because Lee had opened his eyes.
The news resurrected the hope he’d thought dead for good.
His eyes are open…
He cleaned up the vomit first, unfazed by the filth, his muddled thoughts all on Lee. When that was done he pawed through the medicine drawer until he found some ibuprofen, poured what looked like two or three or maybe four into his palm and choked them down dry. Once the pills were safely on the way to his stomach—which felt normal despite its recent purge—he slurped cold water from the tap until he couldn’t hold anymore, hoped he wouldn’t barf it up, hoped it would help sober him up.
He got in the shower next, and while the hot water did nothing for the throbbing in his head, it did help steady his hands a bit.
His eyes are open…
The news couldn’t make him forget the woman. If anything it made him feel more guilty. But he still wanted to see Lee right away, and Sarah was right that he needed to sober up first. So he stayed in the shower until the hot water was gone and when he got out his head throbbed a bit less. He dried off and went into the bedroom where he only fell down once trying to pull on his underwear and pants.
He sat on the bed to put on his socks.
Sarah leaned against the kitchen counter next to the sink, a bag of frozen vegetables on her hand, and a blank, distant expression on her face. She didn’t notice Jon and he stopped, examined her in a way he hadn’t done since Lee was injured.
She looked tired. No, tired was inadequate. She looked exhausted. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, accentuated because she’d gotten thinner since the accident. Too thin, her cheekbones too prominent. Her color wasn’t healthy, her skin as washed out as sun-bleached upholstery. She wasn’t getting enough of anything. Enough sleep. Enough food. Enough love.
All my fault…
She noticed him and her lips thinned.
“Is your hand okay?” he asked before she could speak.
“It’s fine.”
“Good. Listen I’m sorry about—”
“It doesn’t matter, Jon.”
“I thought I could do it. Leave her in there for a day. I don’t think I can though.”
“I’ll deal with her. A day and she’ll tell us where to find the guy she was with and we’ll let her go. I promise.”
With her eyes on him all he could do was agree. “Where do we go from here?”
“We go to see Lee.”
They signed in at the front desk of Rainbow Pines and hurried to Lee’s room, umbrellas dripping at their sides.
The closer they got to Lee’s room the better Jon felt, the pain of Sarah’s words replaced by the anticipation of seeing his son’s eyes. Such a small thing, but enormous when stacked against the positive developments that had occurred since Lee entered the hospital.
They rounded the final corner, and as they neared the end of the long corridor Jon took a deep breath. He was excited but all too aware how easy it would be to let himself believe that more was to come, that soon Lee would be up and talking, smiling, tossing a ball again.
Stop worrying about the future and just enjoy this moment for what it is…
The door to Lee’s room was open—the therapists believed it was good for him to hear noise from the hallway and often left it open after their visits—and Jon walked in first. He came to an abrupt halt, raised a hand to the doorframe to steady himself as he caught his breath. Lee’s eyes were indeed open, and they stared straight at him.
He cleared his throat. “Lee?”
Lee didn’t respond, and as Jon started moving again Lee’s eyes didn’t follow him, only continued to stare straight ahead to where Sarah stood in the doorway, an anguished expression on her face.
Jon sat on the bed and took Lee’s hand in his, barely noticed as Sarah moved to her chair in the corner. “It’s so good to see you awake, Lee.” It was so easy to pretend that Lee could hear him, especially when Lee’s left arm spasmed and jerked. Jon caught his breath, but of course Lee’s eyes never moved, never reacted, and a moment later the spasm passed. “There are so many things I’ve got to tell you.”
“Can I help you?” Sarah asked a few minutes later as she stood from her chair.
Jon looked up from Lee and saw a man standing in the doorway. He wore a casual suit, the damp blazer unbuttoned. He was tall and thin, his dark hair cut short above a handsome, confused face.
“No. No, I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. The door was open, and I didn’t really think… ” He trailed off, avoided their eyes as his cheeks flushed. “My grandfather’s a patient here and when I walked past the room I thought recognized your son. It was a mistake. I’m sorry. I hope he gets better soon.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said, and she did sound grateful. She walked to the door and put her uninjured hand on the man’s back, gently turned him toward the the nurses station. “I hope your grandfather gets better soon as well.”
The man looked as if he wanted to say more despite the obvious dismissal, but his eyes widened and he left without another word.
Sarah watched the man walk away and then turned to Jon and said, “I need to speak to the nurses. I’ll be back in a few minutes and we’ll go home so you can sleep. You’ve got work tomorrow.”
Jon didn’t acknowledge what she said and she left. No doubt what she said was true, but she probably wanted to check on the woman too. And he knew she wouldn’t leave him home alone after what happened earlier.
Jon took Lee’s hand once more, determined not to waste their time together. Lee still gazed at the doorway, his expression blank. Jon didn’t think he’d blinked since they’d arrived. They would need to ask the nurses about that, if there was some kind of drops he should get to prevent his eyes from drying out.
“So let me tell you about the Nats game the other night… ”
Thirty-Seven
HARVEY
When Harvey left room 198 he thought the kid might stay behind, but as Harvey plodded down the corridor the kid followed along in his wake, there every time he looked back.
The boy’s eyes are open, but the kid is still mine. Just mine…
He’d delivered the overnight bag to Nonno’s new room—the kid behind him ever since he’d entered Rainbow Pines—and once things were settled, he told Nonna he was going to the cafeteria to get her some tea. But as soon as he’d stepped out of Nonno's room he’d been overwhelmed by a desire to see the boy again.
His eyes are open, but he’s not quite awake. Does that mean he’ll wake up soon? Does it change anything?
Harvey didn’t know. The presence of Lee Young’s parents had surprised him, but not as much as seeing the boy’s eyes open.
A few minutes later he walked into the cafeteria in a daze. Only a few of the round tables were occupied and the room was quiet except for the sound of the rain falling on the skylights. Harvey stood just inside the entrance, his mind still outside of the boy’s room. The kid didn’t even look at the boy. Why wouldn’t he look at him?
“Can I help you, sir?”
“What?” Harvey asked, startled back into the present.
“Can I help you find something, sir?” The young woman wrung her hands together as she spoke. “I’m afraid we don’t have anything hot at this time of night, but I could make you a sandwich.”
“No, I’m fine,” Harvey said with a shake of his head. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the kid was still there. “I just need tea. Do you have some?”
“Of course!” the woman said with a smile. “Let me show you what we have.”
“You need to go home, Harvey. Don’t you work tomorrow?”
Harvey looked away from the kid in the corner of the room, thought of the voicemail he’d finally checked. Dave had been right—Robertson wanted to see him first thing in the morning. “You shouldn’t be here alone, Nonna.”
“Nonsense. Nonno’s here and I’ve got everything I need since you went to the house. There’s no reason for you to stay here. Besides, I can tell how tired you are. You’ve had trouble having a conversation ever since you got here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I am. Give me a kiss and go home and get some sleep. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Harvey drove home, the wipers slapping in the dark, the kid’s face a pale sliver in the rear view mirror, his eyes sometimes locked onto Harvey’s but more often than not gazing out of the window into the night.
The kid was sitting in one corner of the living room when Harvey made it inside, throwing the ball into his glove over and over. Harvey froze when he saw him, so startled that he forgot to close the front door until the wind gusted and blew a sheet of rain inside.
The kid was wearing a different uniform. Gone was the Pirates outfit, replaced by Dodgers blue and white, the cap on the kid’s head solid blue with a white B.
Harvey stared at the kid for a long time, thought about putting on dry clothes, then decided instead to get the bottle of whiskey off the top of the refrigerator. He poured himself three fingers, then took the drink and sat on the couch.
He watched the kid and drank. The ball—once as big as the moon—no longer held his attention.
Why did he change uniforms?
The question was passing and didn’t draw him in the way it would have the day before. His natural curiosity had been dulled by the day’s events, his mind gravitating toward the image of Nonno lying on the sidewalk, the rain running into his open mouth.
“Why me?” he asked the kid after he’d emptied the glass, and for the first time since arriving at Nonna’s that afternoon, he thought of Elle. “I wasn’t the only one in the car.”
The kid ignored him.
Harvey wondered if Elle was back at the bar. He thought of getting up, of getting into the Cherokee and driving to the Hill. No doubt the kid would follow. Would she see him? Perhaps he could pass the kid along to her. But for some reason, he knew that wouldn’t work, was certain of it. The kid was his, like it or not.
“If the boy wakes up will you leave me alone? Is that what you want?
”
The kid stopped throwing the ball into the glove and looked at him, his head tilted slightly to side. The pose reminded Harvey of the way a raven eyed its prey before plunging its beak ahead. The kid looked away after a moment and the ball started moving again.
Harvey watched the kid for a few more minutes and then got up for a refill. The meeting with Robertson in the morning was the last thing on his mind.
Thirty-Eight
ELLE
Elle felt betrayed by her tears. She’d thought she was hard, thought she was done with them, but after another failed attempt to free herself, sobs wracked her body again.
The tears were few and small though and she wondered if she was dehydrated. Her head ached, but that could just as easily be from the hit she’d taken as from dehydration.
She’d gone a long time without water. There was no clock in the still lit room, but the darkness outside the window told her enough.
I probably haven’t been here twelve hours and it feels like forever already…
She fell into a daydream, imagined Harvey bursting through the door to rescue her. Here comes the white knight, shrew won’t put up a fight fight fight…
Pain brought her back. Her jaws ached from the gag, her tongue coated with dried mucus. Her ankles burned. Her wrists were raw and bloody but if anything the ropes around them had only grown tighter, made her fear that if she kept at it she might lose her hands.
Assuming you even get out of this room alive…
That possibility seemed smaller and smaller as time passed. If only the heel-licker had been a little quicker, or could grow a set of balls and deal with his wife. The first possibility was past, the second nothing but a hope.