Colm, who was hiding in the hall as he listened to his mother talk about his father, shook his head. No, no, no. It couldn’t be. He was ashamed of his father. He couldn’t believe the man he had imagined all this time would have ever said such things to his mother.
“I’ve sent packages to Pierce and his parents, too, at times—with letters, artwork, pictures, everything for years, hoping either Pierce would get them or his parents would pass them on to him,” Cathleen assured them all. “They just get returned to me unopened.”
Colm was shocked by all of his mother’s efforts and embarrassed for saying all those ugly things to her earlier. He thought of how hard it must be for her, too, waiting for him to come and knowing what she did about him.
Cathleen grew quiet—trying hard not to move, not to let the men know that she was terrified. What if he chooses him over me? All this time she had been so worried about losing Colm to death that it never occurred to her she would lose him to a better life, possibly a better parent, a better future with someone else. What if Pierce had married—had a wife and children of his own? She had to stop herself from thinking of all the possible scenarios. And even the impossible ones.
Colm stood quietly in the hallway waiting to overhear the adults make their final decision. Who would take him and when? Even though he knew what he knew now—his father didn’t want him and was sending pieces of him back one envelope at a time—he still wanted to see him. He still wanted an explanation. He still believed that if his father saw him—just once—he would regret it all and come back to him.
“Cathleen, do you think there is any chance he is still out there? We don’t want to take him all the way to L.A. with the hopes that he will find his father only to disappoint him,” Sean asked now, seriously considering Colm’s heartbreak.
“I’m not sure. I guess I have to look into it. But, honestly, the only thing I care about right now is getting him better. What if this friend of Dr. Basu’s can help?” Cathleen looked at the doctor.
“We won’t know if we don’t try. But I am willing to, if you are, Cathleen. I’ll work on the arrangements on my end. I will have to reschedule some elective surgeries and get some other doctors to cover my appointments and emergencies. It may take some time to arrange. I can’t promise I can leave immediately, although I have several weeks of unused time. Excluding our trip last year, in all the years in my practice, I haven’t gone anywhere.”
“I have plenty of time saved up, too, Cathleen. And I’ll go only if this trip isn’t just about finding Pierce. I can help you with Colm and with the drive,” Sean agreed.
Cathleen looked at both of them. “So we’re going to do this? We’re going to take him to L.A.?”
Sean and Dr. Basu nodded.
“Well, I’ll need to get some money together, rent a car, check out hotel rates, get some maps . . . I need to get some books from the library on how to take a trip across the United States. I need to plan this stuff out. Maybe we can find a private investigator or something like that to help track Pierce down.” Cathleen started to do her thinking outside her head.
“Cate, don’t worry about this Pierce bullshit. I mean it. Stay focused on Colm and this new doctor and hospital—and real medicine, real results this time around. Finally, a trip worth taking,” Sean added, making a final dig at his sister and her ill-fated quest for a miracle.
Cathleen shot back a look. “I told you, Sean, I was just trying everything. That’s all. And I am willing to give new doctors and hospitals a chance too. But, Sean, you know as well as I do, Colm will be so disappointed if we drive all that way and put him through all of the pain of traveling, and he doesn’t get to find his father.”
“Well, there is no guarantee with this guy, is there? I mean, say you do find out where he lives—then what? What do you think is going to happen? We show up and what? He’s going to come running out to Colm with open arms? Come on, Sis. Be realistic. You’re setting him up for a heartbreak. You’re setting yourself up for one.”
“I know. I know, I hear you, Sean. I get it. I just feel awful. I am his mama. I am supposed to help him.”
Colm knew Dr. Basu would be coming to tuck him in soon, so he tiptoed back to his room, slipped off his clothes, put on his pajamas, jumped into bed, and yelled out down the hall, “Dr. Basu, I’m ready!”
“I will go talk to Colm,” Dr. Basu said, taking his leave from Cathleen and Sean.
“Thank you, Dr. Basu,” Cathleen said.
Dr. Basu nodded in acknowledgment and walked down the hall.
Dr. Basu stepped into the dimly lit room toward Colm and sat next to him on the bed.
“Good night, Dr. Basu.”
“Sweet dreams, son.”
“Thank you for telling my mom that lie about the doctor in Los Angeles.”
“It wasn’t a lie.” Dr. Basu looked at Colm in surprise.
“But it was. I know when people are lying. You know as well as I do that this is it.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve had this talk before, Dr. Basu. And I am telling you, it’s time.”
“Do you feel especially ill? What hurts you most? If there is something serious, you must tell me. I can help you.”
“You can’t. Once a body is set on dying, it’s going to die. There isn’t a doctor in the world who has ever been able to keep someone alive forever. When it’s a person’s time, he has to go. It’s science, Dr. Basu. You know that. That’s what you always say.”
“But you’re just a little boy—you just turned seven. You have plenty of life to live. Don’t you want to live? Don’t you want to see your mother and uncle grow old? Don’t you want to finish school? There are so many beautiful places to see in the world. So many wonderful things to do. How can a little boy like you want to give up so soon?”
“I’m not giving up, Dr. Basu. I’ve fought so hard for so long to stay with Mama as long as I could to make sure she’d be OK without me. And she’s ready. I’m ready.”
“Now I’ve told you, it’s not your job to worry about your mother. You have to worry about living. Don’t you see there is so much to live for—right here on Earth?”
“I know. That’s why I need you take me across it. I want to see it all before I go.”
Dr. Basu squeezed Colm’s hand. How could the boy know?
“Like Uncle Sean, I want to see the mountains, the plains, and even the Pacific Ocean. And, most of all, more than anything or anybody, I want to see my father before I go.”
“But there is no guarantee you will see him. Your mother doesn’t know where he lives.”
“We’ll find him. I know it. The friar told me so.”
“What? What friar?”
“When I was lost in Italy, a friar told me I would see my father. He was sure of it. He promised me.”
Dr. Basu closed his eyes, thinking the friar was probably speaking of Colm’s heavenly father—making Colm another false promise, one that the friar had no right to give. But Dr. Basu didn’t want to crush the boy, not now, so he went with it. “Oh, I see. Did he tell you where or when you would see your father?”
“No. But I know. I just know this is it. And you’ll help me find him.”
“I do hope I can help you, Colm.”
“You already have, Dr. Basu.”
“Oh? How have I helped you? I haven’t been able to make you better. I haven’t been able to cure you. You said yourself you’re dying.”
“But because of you, Dr. Basu, I have lived. I really have. And soon when we go to Los Angeles, you’re going to help me live my dream. That’s all a person can hope to do before he dies. Just have one dream come true. One wish. That’s what heaven is. It’s not where God is. It’s not up there or out someplace after we die. It’s right here. We make it heaven. You can make it for me. I see that now. When I first met you, and you told me your name was Gaspar, I thought you would save my life. But now I see—there’s more than one way to save a life or to give life. And that’s wha
t the first Gaspar did. He gave a gift, like you have given me.”
“Oh? How is that? What gift have I given you?”
“You gave me you. You’re the best friend I ever had. And now you are Mama’s and Uncle Sean’s, too. And I don’t have to worry about them anymore. They have you.”
Dr. Basu bent over and softly kissed the boy on his cheek.
“You are some sort of special child, Colm Francis Magee,” Dr. Basu whispered softly, his voice cracking.
“I know. The friar told me that, too.”
“Well, he was right about that.”
“And he’s right about my father.”
“I hope so. With all my heart, I hope so. Now good night, Colm.”
“Night, Dr. Basu.”
Chapter 26
A couple of weeks later, on a cool spring SUNDAY morning, they all met at Cathleen’s apartment. Dr. Basu pulled up in his large Mercedes sedan and sat in it to keep it running so that it would be comfortable for Colm. Sean arrived first with only a backpack, taking the notion of a road trip to heart.
When Sean saw his sister and nephew at the top of the stairs, he ran up and grabbed their bags, and Dr. Basu hopped out of the car to help Sean load the trunk. When they were through loading, Dr. Basu ran around the side of the car to open the passenger-side door for Cathleen. Sean helped Colm into the car and slid in alongside him.
It was so odd, Sean thought, sitting in the backseat. Finally, the trip out West he always dreamed about as a boy. They were headed off to see the world together, to see new and wonderful things.
His sister turned around and flashed a warm bright smile at her two boys in the backseat.
“Now, behave back there you two,” she warned jokingly.
“Yes,” Dr. Basu added. “Don’t make me pull over!” And he flashed a wink in the rearview mirror.
Sean leaned forward, grabbed the doctor’s shoulders, and shook him gently.
“Buckle up!” Dr. Basu announced as he pulled away from the apartment. Cathleen looked up at her apartment building and wondered for a brief moment if she would return alone. Colm looked through the back window, too, at the apartment, the sidewalk, the neighborhood—all he had ever known. He knew he should have been sad to leave it all behind, but he couldn’t lie to himself. He had never felt more hopeful or more alive.
Sean and Dr. Basu were already at war over the radio. “What’s this crap you got on, Doc?”
“It’s NPR.”
“N-P-who gives a shit. Let’s put the FAN on or get some music, old man.”
As they drove out of the Lincoln Tunnel and headed into Jersey, Colm, Sean, and Cathleen turned their heads to look behind them. Dr. Basu looked in the rearview mirror. They saw the sun rising behind them over the sparkling city. The morning sky was crisp and blue. Not a cloud was in the sky.
They were on their way.
They had to stop more than they originally figured they would. Colm had to go to the bathroom every hour. He could not get comfortable. His jerking and constant movement and trembling was starting to drive Sean nuts. In between Colm’s nervous fits, they spent a lot of time getting to know each other, in a way only a long car ride permits, by teasing one another incessantly. For two days they drove, without much to see but rolling hills with the first signs of spring—pale green and pink deciduous buds that speckled the highway and beyond. Colm was restless, worried about their route. Cathleen assured him they would try their best to get to L.A. by Sunday, but she reminded him that their appointment at the hospital in L.A. wasn’t until Tuesday, so they had time. But Colm was adamant. He wanted to get to L.A. by Sunday; he couldn’t care less about the doctor’s appointment. He knew that was Dr. Basu’s way of getting his mother to make the trip. Cathleen reminded Colm that it might take a little longer than expected, because after they reached St. Louis, where they would pass the Arch, they would then drive north, to see the Nebraska plains and the northern Colorado ridge of Rocky Mountain National Park. Colm winced, thinking it might take too long, but agreed. Even though he wanted to see the mountains, he knew his uncle Sean wanted to see them more than anyone.
On Monday morning when they left Cincinnati, the car was filled with the smell of hotel soap and shampoo. They drove for several uninterrupted hours. Colm seemed to be getting more comfortable, and by midafternoon he even managed to fall into a deep sleep, slumped over Dr. Basu, who was taking a break from driving and sitting in the backseat next to him. At the wheel, Sean was the first to see the large, silver catenary curve of the Arch rise in front of them.
“Hey, Doc? Get him up, will ya?” Sean said.
Dr. Basu gently touched the boy’s shoulder and shook him awake.
“Colm, Colm, wake up. Look!” Dr. Basu said, pointing out the window.
As they crossed the Mississippi and looked to their right, they saw the giant Arch sweep up to the heavens. “It was,” Cathleen explained, “an architectural and engineering stroke of genius.” Colm stared as they passed by it and gave the Wow-Cool that had been shouted countless times by children from all over, who with their parents on a journey over the Mississippi passed by it not expecting its height, its grandeur, and its mystery. How does it stand up without tipping over? Colm asked innumerable questions, waiting for all the adults to answer, but they all sat silently, unable to explain how certain things worked in the world. Even Dr. Basu, who seemed to know everything, sat quietly, saying nothing. Some things, he thought, yes, perhaps, remained best a mystery.
They had been on the road three days when they crossed the Iowa-Nebraska border and saw the Welcome sign, glossy and green with white reflective lettering, shimmering in the sparkle of the high afternoon sun. Colm smiled, believing the message had been written for him alone. Life, a good one, it promised him, lay just beyond the endless barrage of billboard signs.
The road continued to roll under the Mercedes’s tires, and they moved forward—out of Iowa, out of the East, out of all they had ever known and into Nebraska, home of the good life, sandhill cranes, steers, and corn. Safely buckled in the doctor’s car, they all thought the stars seemed to align, the planets moved into position, the angels took their rightful posts, cars parted and let them pass. Free and first, they were well on their way.
Cathleen talked incessantly about how harsh the country still was, how raw and new it all seemed compared to the concrete jungle they had just come from. But she acknowledged it was still a different experience to take a road to Nebraska from the East Coast today than it was a hundred or two hundred years prior when it must have been a long, hard road. She remembered an English class she had taken in high school, and her teacher who loved Willa Cather, the great Nebraskan novelist. Cathleen recalled what Cather had said: It is not the destination but the road—the road is all.
“Can you imagine it, Colm?” Cathleen asked. “What it would have been like?”
Cathleen was trying to picture it herself. She found it almost impossible to imagine, while soaring down the interstate at a cool eighty miles per hour, how arduous the trip must have been for those first few brave souls to travel through the roadless mountains and valleys of Pennsylvania and Ohio and the hot, drab, and grassy plains of Indiana, Missouri, and Iowa.
“Colm, imagine traveling all that way only to find even more grass just beyond the Iowa bluffs in this endless state of Nebraska? I think I would have cried. I would have absolutely died. To think you traveled all that way, hoping for something amazing and you were met with this?”
Cathleen pointed out the window to the vast, empty plains. “Nothing.”
She looked out the window and felt so small, so hopeless—erased, just as Cather said she felt—staring down a gargantuan red sky that swallowed her whole as she moved toward its large, hot yellow mouth.
“I don’t know, Mama. I think it’s pretty cool. Pretty amazing,” Colm said, looking out the window.
Sean looked out the window, too, and put his hand on his heart and began to sing in a deep baritone, “Oh beauti
ful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain . . .”
“All right, cut it out, wise guy,” Cathleen said.
“What? I’m serious. It’s beautiful, Sis.”
“You’re making fun of me, Sean. You’re always making fun of me.”
“I’m not. I think you’re right. It’s really hard to wrap your brain around it—the majesty of it all. It kinda makes you think.”
“It makes me wonder about so much,” Cathleen said as she quietly stared out over the dashboard to the long road in front of her.
“What, Mama? What does it make you think of?”
Colm thought he knew what she meant. He thought she was trying to prepare him. What if he traveled all the way to California and his dad wasn’t special? Wasn’t anything to write home about, he thought.
But Dr. Basu and Sean knew what Cathleen really meant. She was having another existential crisis. What if all that praying, all that wishing and hoping for a place like heaven, a final reward for her hard road here on Earth, was just a big, fat, Nebraska-size letdown? What if it all amounted to nothing?
“Maybe Nebraska was proof. Proof that there was nothing beyond. Maybe it’s a cosmic metaphor,” Cathleen finally said aloud.
“Proof of what, Mama?” Colm asked, totally confused.
“Proof that there is no heaven. That you’re right, Colm. That it’s all about the road. That we shouldn’t be putting these big expectations on life—on people, the afterlife. Maybe it’s a sign.”
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