[2013] Life II

by Scott Spotson

  But he kept on dreaming.

  Brandon was thrashing in water. That’s all Max would dream. He had no hint if his son was in a pond, a lake, or the ocean. He didn’t know. All he saw was Brandon struggling in the water, his hands reaching for Max, his eyes wide in terror.

  “Daddy!”

  Max tried to reach Brandon.

  “Daddy, help me!!”

  “I’m coming!” Max yelled as loud as he could as he waded into the water.

  As soon as he reached Brandon, the child disappeared, and the waves around Max surged up and obscured everything. Then the cycle began again.

  Brandon was screaming this time, with huge waves and wind all around him. The water was dark feverish green, with black tips. Brandon’s eyes searched for Max while his tiny body was being sucked beneath the swirling water.

  “Daddy!!!”

  “Brandon! I’m coming!” Max furiously plowed through the water. It was icy cold. Max halted, losing sight of Brandon. He glanced at the waters and then across the sky. Then the small voice came shivering through the air.

  “Hellllpppp!!!”

  “Brandon!” Max yelled. “Come back!”

  The scream echoed across the waters. Then the voice of his child became fainter and fainter. Enough, Max told himself, enough of this shit! It was time to wake up. He moved his head back and forth on the pillow, trying to arouse himself to wake up. Wake up!

  “Hellllpppp!!! Daddy!!!”

  Max woke. He groaned.

  Pamela reached over to him. She hugged him to her.

  He didn’t move. Didn’t react. Didn’t acknowledge her.

  Confusion coated him. Fear racked him. He shuddered.

  Their breaths mingled in the cold morning air. These memories were slowly stealing his soul.

  After a moment, Pamela rolled back over to her side of the bed. He felt her soft fingers trail up his arm. She didn’t say anything.

  Neither did he.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  June 18, 1996 at 3:46 p.m.

  “Dr. Max Thorning!”

  A wave of applause reverberated throughout the auditorium.

  Max walked down to the stage, shook hands with the dean of the medical school, then with the chancellor. Today was his day.

  The moment he had devoted Life II to—becoming a doctor—was at hand. Was it worth it? He knew he was not a certified doctor yet—he still had to complete two more years of residency in his chosen specialization—but there were no more lectures, no more written exams. He did, however, have the right to use the title, “Max Thorning, M.D.” or “Dr. Max Thorning.”

  So close. And yet so freakin’ far.

  He greeted Pamela when he stepped down from the stage.

  “Congratulations, sweetie,” she said, beaming at him.

  “I’m so proud of you, Max.” His mother hugged him. “You did it.”

  “My son, the doctor!” His father shook his hand, and hugged him.

  Nathan shoved through the crowd, putting his arm around Max’s shoulder. “Well, buddy, we’re going to be together at Calgary General!” he crowed.

  “Yup.” Max shook his head, bewildered, as if trying to clear it. He stared around at everybody, as if perplexed.

  “Something the matter?” Pamela asked.

  “I’ll be okay,” Max answered, his face drowsy and confused. He wanted to flop down on the floor, and sleep.

  “Congrats on the baby,” Nathan whispered to him, patting Pamela on the belly, still placing his arm around Max. “But hey bro: make sure you don’t let it get in the way of your residency. Because the next couple of years are gonna be murder!”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  October 8, 1996 at 4:35 a.m.

  “Paging Dr. Thorning.”

  Max’s pulse quickened. “Is my wife about to deliver her baby?”

  “Contractions five minutes apart.”

  “On my way.” His headache was throbbing now.

  Max took off his lab coat and tossed it on a hook in the doctors’ quarters. He hurried to the delivery ward of the hospital, taking an elevator in the process.

  An ultrasound a few months ago showed that they were going to have a boy. They’d already picked a name for the baby. Max flashed back to Life I. When Angela was born, he’d taken a day off from the accounting firm to be with Abby. He’d stayed overnight at the hospital awaiting Angela’s birth, pacing the floor, fighting off sleep. He’d been a very anxious father, dreading that something would go wrong, conjuring up visions of a delivery gone badly. It felt strange, this time around, to be a doctor. He’d become very familiar with all aspects of birth, and delivered a few babies himself. He’d ordered extra tests on Pamela, and all had been exceptional. Pamela had started motherhood at a younger age than Abby, which bode well for the baby.

  But now Max felt severe pangs of guilt concerning Angela. There would be no first-born girl in the family. No Angela. His early drawings of Angela were now his only link to his long-lost daughter. No photographs. No videos of her first bath, her first steps, climbing her first tree or playing in the backyard. There was nothing he could’ve taken from Life I to honor her life.

  Only memories.

  Max started tearing up. He didn’t want Pamela to see him in this state.

  With his keys, he allowed himself into the clinical testing room, which was dark and empty. He turned the lights on, locked the door, pulled up a stool, and placed his elbows on the lab counter. He kept wiping his eyes with his sleeves, then finally walked over to pull out some tissues from a box.

  “Paging Dr. Thorning,” the loudspeaker voice blared. Now his forehead felt like it was being pounded from within.

  Max’s pager suddenly beeped. Max moaned. He thought about ignoring his pager, but knew if he didn’t answer, it would cause alarm.

  “Yes, I’m coming,” he announced, without moving from his seat.

  “You’d better hurry, doctor,” the pager answered back. “The baby’s about to be born.”

  Max staggered out of the room. As he walked, he noticed that all of the walls in the corridor leaned to the left, as if the building was sinking on that side. Max stumbled down the tilted corridor, bursting into the delivery room.

  When he finally arrived, he saw his overjoyed wife holding their new baby, all swaddled in white cotton. The little guy had dark black hair, his eyes squeezed shut. He was screaming bloody murder, and Pamela was crying and laughing and smiling all at the same time.

  As he peered at the squirming bundle, Max’s heart came alive again with hope. Yes, Angela was lost to him forever, but this little guy was now his world and in his care. Joy flooded his veins as he walked toward Pamela and she lifted the swaddled babe up toward him.

  “Come meet your son, sweetie,” she said through her own sheen of tears. “Kyle, meet Daddy.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  November 5, 1996 at 11:35 p.m.

  Max heard a soft knock on the door. Pamela and the baby were sleeping. Just five minutes ago, he’d checked on Kyle, peacefully slumbering in his crib.

  Max opened the door.

  He was startled to see Garfield standing there, dressed in a business shirt and tie. He’d aged visibly. His hair on his balding head was brushed to the back. But Garfield also seemed—different. He looked professional, standing up straight, his torso leaning slightly ahead of his pelvis. He had his hands clasped together in a thoughtful pose.

  When Garfield saw Max, his face broke into a wide grin. “Hi, buddy!” he hooted, and embraced him.

  “Garfield,” Max acknowledged, slightly dazed.

  “Sorry for this late hour. Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” Max opened the door wider. He felt good at seeing Garfield, for the first time in four years. Garfield looked good, dammit.

  Without a word Garfield waddled in, and seated himself on the sofa. He waited as Max sat opposite him. He smiled, took a deep breath, and began.

  “Let me get straight to the point, Max. I kno
w you were disappointed in me and that’s why you gave up on me.”

  Max said, “Garfield—”

  Garfield held up his hand. “It’s okay. I wasn’t happy with myself back then either. I figured you had your own reasons for not staying in touch with me. All my letters that weren’t answered. Finally, I had to be honest with myself. And I’ve made some changes—good changes, I think.”

  Surprise registered itself on Max’s face. “Yeah?”

  Garfield smiled. “You see, I’m a real estate agent. And I’m doing really well. Apparently, I’ve got a knack for finding the right homes for people.” He stood up. “But hey dude, I came here to see the baby.”

  “Of course,” Max answered, scratching his head. “This way.”

  They walked to the baby’s bedroom. Kyle was sleeping contentedly in the crib. “Ah,” Garfield sighed, speaking in a low voice, “It’s the best baby yet.” He broke off, sighing, his face flushing. “Can I hold him?”

  “Of course.”

  Max gently placed his hands under Kyle’s back and lifted him up. He placed the baby into Garfield’s arms. “Beautiful,” he solemnly told Max.

  Max nodded.

  “How does it feel to be a father?”

  Max resisted the temptation to revisit Life I with Garfield, and simply said, “It’s like heaven.”

  “Ah,” Garfield sighed, then reluctantly handed Kyle back to him. Max expertly laid Kyle back to sleep.

  The two friends walked back to the living room. Max initiated the conversation. “So, you were saying, you’re now working in real estate.”

  “Been doing it for three years now.”

  “I thought you…”

  Garfield stopped him with a smile. “Yes, I nearly declared bankruptcy. I’m not proud of that time in my life. I was gambling too much. I thought I was a poker whiz, but the problem was, I didn’t know when to stop.” His eyes registered defeat, but only for a second. “Plus, I was twenty-two years old, all washed up, living with my parents, deep in debt. I didn’t like myself.”

  Garfield reflected for a moment, and chuckled.

  “What?” Max grinned.

  “Don’t you remember? June 19, 1978.”

  Max remembered from Life I. Garfield always had discussed the importance of that date with Max.

  “When Garfield the Cat was first created,” Max observed.

  “You do remember!” Garfield pointed his finger at Max. “At the time, it was just two days after my seventh birthday. My parents and I read it in the newspaper, and we thought at the time it was really cool. But then Garfield got too popular.”

  “Totally,” agreed Max. He remembered the teasing Garfield always received from his friends and classmates, especially during elementary school.

  Garfield looked down. “Anyway, when I didn’t like myself the last four years…” He looked up at Max. “I didn’t expect you to like me either.”

  “Garfield—”

  “No, no, dude. It’s okay. I guess I deserved that brush-off from you, Max. But when I heard your baby was born, I just had to see you—“

  Max fell silent.

  “By the way, congratulations on becoming a doctor.” He looked up at Max admiringly. “You’ve accomplished a lot.”

  Max felt sullen. Had he? He had for a long time felt bedraggled, irritated, unfulfilled… And across from him, Garfield appeared as a brand new man. He radiated confidence.

  Garfield cleared his throat. “How’s, um... how’s Nathan?” He practically whispered the name.

  Max groaned. He recalled the animosity between Nathan and Garfield, and wasn’t sure why Garfield was asking.

  “Nathan’s fine. He’s a doctor, too.”

  “Call the presses!” Garfield chuckled. Then his face became deadpan, and serious. “Can I have his phone number?”

  Max did a double take. His attention snapped back to Garfield, expecting an expression of mirth on his friend. But Garfield kept a straight face.

  “Excuse me?” Max said.

  “I have to thank him.”

  Max was floored now. He stared at Garfield, in silence. Garfield put a hand out to Max’s shoulder, to steady him. “Guess who saved me from bankruptcy.”

  Max gazed with an expression of horror on his face.

  “Nooooo...” he said in a distant voice.

  “That’s right,” Garfield said. “Nathan paid off my debts.” He stepped back, looking down at the floor. “I take back everything I said about Nathan, Max. Deep down, he’s really a good guy.”

  Max was so stunned, he just lowered himself onto the sofa, his mouth agape.

  Garfield sat at the other end. “Nathan doesn’t know that I know.”

  “Really?”

  “Actually,” Garfield said in speaking to himself, “Better not to thank him. I think he wants to preserve his reputation.” He grinned. “Seriously though, I don’t know how he found out. We don’t have many friends in common. But somehow he found out I was about to go bankrupt.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But the day I was about to file for bankruptcy, I found a mysterious deposit into my bank account.”

  “Whoa.”

  Garfield purposely dragged out the words. “Seven thousand, five hundred dollars.”

  Max gulped.

  “Yup, dude.” Garfield nodded. “The bank refused to tell me who deposited that money. So then my father did some digging.”

  Max listened, eyes wide, rapt with attention.

  “He has contacts. So one afternoon, he came to me and said the name; only he didn’t know who it was. He said to me, ‘The money was from a somebody named N. Symes.’”

  “N. Symes.” Max stared off, his eyes haunted. “Oh wow.”

  Garfield’s head swiveled to Max. “He told me the deposit was done by a numbered company. But he checked the records for ownership. And he asked me, ‘Do you know anyone named Symes? N. Symes?’ And I said, ‘Boy, do I ever!’”

  “Seven thousand, five hundred dollars.” Max was still in shock. He smiled crookedly. “That’s a lot of moolah.”

  Garfield laid a hand on Max’s knee. “So, Max, never mind about giving me Nathan’s number. It’s better if he doesn’t know that I know.”

  Max nodded. His eyes suddenly felt droopy.

  Seeing this, Garfield stood up. “Dude, you look exhausted. I’ll be going now. Oh, my gosh. Here you are, with a new baby! I probably came at a bad time…”

  “No, no…” Max was now fighting the urge to fall asleep.

  “But can we have breakfast together tomorrow? Don’t say no, please. I really want to talk with you some more.”

  “I’d love to,” Max yawned but found himself agreeing. “Let’s aim for eight o’clock. Meet me at the cafeteria of Calgary General Hospital.”

  “Their food any good?”

  “The worst.”

  “Okay,” Garfield moaned. “I’ll be the one in the pajamas with a coffee IV in my arm.”

  Max laughed. “Bye, Garfield.” With all his strength, he managed to get off the couch and stand up.

  Once on his feet, Max cocked his head, and looked at his old friend. Suddenly Max felt an impulse to hug Garfield. He was shocked to see the shine of tears in Garfield’s eyes. It was like Garfield was seeing right into Max’s heart, and Max felt naked and exposed. But when Garfield stepped forward as if to accept Max’s hug, he quickly adapted instead to complete a handshake.

  Max pumped hands with Garfield as vigorously and as long as he could. “It’s good to see you, Garfield.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I think what you did was really great,” Max said softly, “pulling your life together like that. It’s a greater accomplishment than anything I’ve done.”

  Garfield appeared shocked. “No way, Max.”

  “And Nathan doing that for you. Duuude. It just blows me away.”

  “Blows you away? What about me?” Garfield chuckled.

  Max stood awkwardly at the door. “Bye, Garfield. Have
a good sleep.”

  Garfield turned his head as he walked out. “I think you’re the one that needs the sleep, Max.”

  Chapter Fifty

  April 13, 1997 at 2:45 p.m.

  Max, decked out in a lab coat and fulfilling his residency requirements in the area of pulmonology, was speaking to Dr. Tyroler in the Respiratory Diseases wing of Calgary General Hospital, when the receptionist for Max’s unit raced up to him.

  “Dr. Thorning?”

  “What is it?” Max didn’t mean to snap at her, and immediately felt remorse at his reaction.

  “It’s really important,” the young woman said. “Your sister’s here to see you.”

  Max was confused. “My sister? It must be a mistake.”

  “I don’t think so. Name’s Jennifer Thorning. Has three kids with her now.”

  Max panicked. What was she doing here?

  He walked up to the receptionist’s desk, where he found Jenny standing, with a dazed look on her face. She leaned over a baby stroller, which held her youngest child, Alex, born several months ago. Emily and Sarah were playing near her feet.

  As Max got closer, he saw purplish bruises on the right side of Jenny’s face, just under her right eye.

  “My God, Jenny! What happened to you?”

  “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

  “It’s Len. I knew it! That bastard!” Max blurted out. He felt the blood pounding in his temples. Calming down, he took his sister by the arm. “Come on, Jen.” And looking around the vast corridors Max quickly guided her into an exam room.

  He gently examined his sister’s face. The bruises were ugly and deep, but there looked to be no major impact near the skull. “Did he hit you on any other parts of your body?” Max asked, his anger rising.

  “No, and I don’t need a medical examination. Other than my face, I’m fine.”

  “You’re coming and staying at my house. Let me just tell them I’m leaving.”

  On the way home from the hospital, with Jenny’s car following his, Max seethed. He could feel his hands tightening into fists around the steering wheel, ready to pummel his good-for-nothing brother-in-law.