The Living Room

by Rolfe, Bill

  Once Claire returned home, they had a long talk about her day and then about how he was feeling physically. They wouldn’t be having any more visitors unless he was feeling up to it. She also informed him that she would take him with her to work in the morning to run some tests, to make sure he didn’t have pneumonia.

  She tucked him in and stretched out on the couch on the other side of the room. She was exhausted but couldn’t sleep. Rest and relaxation came from staring at him, wondering in return how she was so fortunate to have met her mate.

  * * *

  By mid-morning, Daniel was sitting in a hospital room behind a curtain. Between coughs, he tried to make jokes about the robe he was wearing with nothing underneath. The humor was lost on the nurses. They had heard everything in the book over the years, but Claire protected his ego and smiled at the humor.

  Dr. Abrams arrived and greeted Daniel with an almost forced grin. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Daniel.” No one bothered to correct the faux pas.

  “Can I see you for a minute, Claire?”

  “Wait, wait, I’m not one of the children here—I think it’s okay to talk in front of me.”

  With that, Dr. Abrams spoke as if Daniel were not even in the room. “I’m ruling out pneumonia at this point, but I’m quite concerned about the blood cell counts.”

  Claire stared awkwardly at Daniel as she pried more information from the doctor.

  “Could he just be worn down from the cold?”

  “Well, that’s what concerns me. There is no appearance of mucus in the chest or throat, which would indicate this as a cold, and other than coughing and tiredness, he has no symptoms. There is, however, an irregular amount of white blood cells in the esophagus region.”

  “From all the coughing, perhaps,” Claire suggested.

  The doctor, now a little uncomfortable, continued: “That wouldn’t cause the results shown in the tests. I’m going to run a few more and need a biopsy done. So you’ll be staying with us for a day or so, Mr. Daniel.” With that, he left the room.

  Daniel was stunned and couldn’t comprehend all that had just taken place. He watched Claire for any response.

  “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll work a double and be here with you all night. I’m sure he’s just ruling everything out. He’s very thorough. Let me get you some water.”

  As she left from behind the curtain, the concern showed on her face. She rushed to catch up with the doctor to inquire further.

  Daniel sat restlessly and thought back to when it all had started—with his painting outside the house. He had flashbacks, first of the cold weather and then of the paint fumes. He wondered if he had inhaled too much or had an allergic reaction.

  When Claire returned, he suggested, “I think I know what it is!”

  She seemed less concerned with his diagnosis than with the one she had just received from the doctor.

  “I thought I had caught a cold from the weather, but I bet it’s a reaction to, or poisoning from, the paint fumes. They were so strong, I could almost taste them.”

  He could see in her face that this wasn’t the likely cause, and that something more serious might be at hand.

  “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot your water. I’ll be right back.” She kissed him gently and left him alone again to scrutinize recent occurrences.

  He was pretty sure the paint was the culprit. It was certainly the easiest conclusion for him to accept.

  * * *

  That evening, while awake in his room, he tried to ignore the voice of concern replaying in his head and listened instead to the endless voices of others in the ward. He wondered what it must be like to work in such a place, and how much worse to live in one, especially for a child. Claire had pulled a few strings and had him placed on her ward for observation.

  He shared a room with Ryan, a young boy whose parents visited regularly. He seemed quite ill. While everyone was introducing themselves, Daniel discovered that the boy suffered from what his father described as “shakes that could kill him.”

  Daniel wouldn’t pry with questions and waited to learn more from Claire.

  He thought back briefly to Isabelle, but the memory was still too painful. But then there was Matthew—his experience had been much happier. Daniel had enjoyed the trip in the car, their talks at the house, and all the smiles on Matthew’s face, smiles that wouldn’t have existed if he had been stuck in this place. Then his fond memories began to change. Those earlier moments of joy had been marred by Matthew’s constant coughing. Not unlike his own now.

  He thought back to his moment alone on the porch and what he had said in his prayer and the site of the lump on little Matthew’s neck.

  He froze for an instant then rushed to the bathroom to use the mirror. Tearing the gown from around his neck, he examined himself, touching and straining to see any irregularities. But everything appeared normal. After a few minutes, he returned to his bed and again went over all that had transpired that evening with Matthew. He remembered the exact words and promises he had made in his prayer—that God might take from him, and that he would not share the secret of such a miracle. His contemplations kept him up most of the night, but he didn’t share them with Claire.

  By early morning, he had undergone a few more tests, including an x-ray and biopsy. Dr. Abrams gave the okay to return home and promised to call him as soon as the results were in.

  While getting ready to leave, Daniel asked Claire about his roommate, Ryan. She explained that he had a condition with his spinal cord that triggered seizures. He had to wear a specially molded body cast for walking, travel, and just about every activity short of lying in bed. Daniel probed for more, but she was not interested in discussing the subject. She was concerned about him.

  “Well, how long has he been here? Is it serious?”

  Claire stopped packing his things and took a breath to recover her professional demeanor. “He’s been in and out a few times. Due to the fragile structure of his spine, a strong enough seizure could render him paralyzed, or worse.”

  Having spent only one night in the depressing hospital room, he understood now more than ever the difference the room at home could make for a person.

  “Can he travel safely?”

  Claire realized the direction Daniel was steering the conversation.

  “No, sweetheart, no more right now. We have to get you better first.”

  “What for? I wouldn’t be the one taking care of him, and he may not have time to wait.”

  “Let’s just get you home, and I’ll talk to his family,” she said without actually intending to.

  As she left the room ahead of him, he stayed back. “Hey, Ryan, how would you like to get out of this place for a couple of days?” This drew the boy’s interest away from the upside-down book he was pretending to read.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, Claire’s going to talk to your parents today about it, so I’ll see you soon, buddy.”

  Claire heard the conversation from outside the doorway and realized that she now had to talk to the parents, instead of trying to convince Daniel otherwise once they were at home.

  The ride home was quiet. She thought about the sudden uncertain future. Daniel pondered the recent past. Could it be possible? And should he share with Claire what might have happened? Or was it just a crazy theory brought on by exhaustion and medication? He elected to keep the promise made in the prayer.

  Back home, he was exhausted and headed straight for his room.

  “There’s no one here tonight; why don’t you sleep upstairs?”

  This stopped Daniel cold in his tracks. He turned to her wide-eyed. “Do you think it’s that serious?”

  “No, I just meant that the view might be nice after a night in the hospital.”

  He nodded and let her off the hook with a tired grin.

  “Are you sleeping downstairs?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I like the view better down here.” He winked and continued toward his o
wn bed.

  It was a quiet evening. Both Daniel and Claire were consumed with concern and self-reflection. Neither was interested in communicating tonight.

  * * *

  Sunrise reminded Daniel to ask Claire about talking to Ryan’s parents. She agreed and offered to send Brenda over to check on him.

  “No, I’ll be fine, but having Ryan around would be good company.”

  Once she left, he headed for the bathroom to brush his teeth. Halfway there, it happened. He was hit with a pain like a hammer to the temple and gripped his head, struggling to see. He fell to the floor and, though dizzy, never lost total consciousness. He was left staring up at the ceiling and wondering what had happened. He glimpsed back at the bed and his trail to the bathroom, curious if he had stood up too fast, or hit something he was unaware of that blocked the short path. He was able to rise again, slowly this time, and made it to the washroom.

  In front of the mirror, he struggled to regain visual focus. He inspected his head for marks and cringed in pain with every touch to the forehead. This type of pain was unfamiliar to him, though he had been victim to colds and migraines before.

  While inspecting his head, his eyes locked in on the mirror, and he began to open his shirt. Shock set in as he discovered his worst symptom so far. A small lump on the side of his neck became more noticeable after each blink.

  His first instinct was to cry out, “Claire!” Then he remembered she had left. He went for the phone.

  “Hello, is that Brenda? Is Claire there yet?”

  “No, I’m sorry, Daniel, she’s due in anytime. Would you like me to give her a message?”

  There was silence. Daniel was hit again, not with pain this time, but with another flashback. He envisioned the first time he saw Matthew getting out of his parents’ car, and the noticeable lump on the side of his throat, not unlike the one he now possessed.

  He also remembered that David was much better when he left than when he had arrived, that his headaches disappeared the morning after he had touched David’s head during his prayer.

  “Is there a message?” Brenda asked him again.

  “No, just tell her I said hello, and I’ll be here when she gets home.”

  His message made no sense, but he had lost his senses temporarily. Hanging up the phone, he returned to his bed in shock over his abnormal discovery.

  Most of his day was spent in self-debate about telling Claire what he had done, the things he had said, and what he believed might now have materialized in him.

  He needed a familiar voice and reached for the phone.

  “Hi, Nancy, it’s Daniel.”

  “Well hello. I was beginning to worry about you.”

  Daniel chuckled slightly at the irony of her comment.

  “Did you sell the place?”

  “Not yet. But I’ve got a realtor working on it, and I may just leave it in her hands.”

  “You don’t sound very good. Is everything okay?”

  There was a long pause as he thought of what to say, but he didn’t want to alarm anyone back home. “Yeah, I’ve got a cold, a real bad one. As soon as it’s better, I’m flying home.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you from here?” She could sense fear in him. She hadn’t heard it in any of their conversations before.

  “No, I’ll be fine in a couple of days, hopefully. Just tell Art that I called, and I’ll be home soon.”

  “Will do. Take care of yourself, Daniel. We’re all looking forward to seeing you again.”

  After another pause, he responded, “I’m excited about coming home. I’ll see you soon.”

  He hung up and concern engulfed him once again. He retired back to bed and waited for his nurse to arrive.

  He awoke in the early evening to the sound of traffic arriving and rushed the best he could to better his appearance and wait by the door. Through the window, he could see Claire step from her vehicle and walk around it, toward the back of the ambulance. It was the one equipped vehicle that he had become conditioned to dreading, but this time it brought good news.

  As the ambulance doors opened, he could see Ryan on a stretcher in the back, grinning from ear to ear. The thought of visiting with Daniel again was just as exciting to Ryan as it was to his host, who walked out to welcome him. “Hey there, buddy. I’m glad you could make it!”

  Claire seemed surprised, and unimpressed, that he had come outside to greet them.

  “Daniel, you should be resting. It’s cold out here. Come on back inside, and you two can visit upstairs.”

  Daniel returned to the doorway but waited for his company to be lifted in and taken up to his new room. He followed close behind, chatting with the child as though they were old friends. The company helped distract him from his mysterious ailment and the promise of secrecy that he had made in prayer.

  Ryan was moved from the stretcher to the bed and his body cast was removed for comfort. He instantly stared out the transparent walls at the setting sun and thanked Claire for arranging the stay with his parents.

  “You’re welcome, Ryan. I promised them you were going to get your rest while you were here. So you two can get reacquainted quickly for tonight, please, but let’s make the visiting start tomorrow, okay?”

  “For sure,” Daniel agreed. “The view is a little better than at the ward, wouldn’t you say, kiddo?”

  “Definitely.”

  They kept it short to appease the overseeing nurse. Daniel promised to come up and see him first thing in the morning. He left Claire to prepare her patient for bed and returned to his own for the night.

  Chapter 12

  * * *

  Claire awoke to the sounds of laughing and intermittent coughing that journeyed down through the vent. She was pleased to hear the joy in their voices but still concerned about Daniel’s well-being. She would have preferred to find him resting next to her.

  As the morning matured, the two new friends upstairs chatted about sports and the different kinds of football in the two countries. They joked back and forth, and laughter seemed to be the best medicine they’d had in a while.

  Claire arrived with the juice they had both requested. “Okay, you two, I think it’s time for a break. You could both use some rest.”

  Daniel turned his head to respond. “Do we have to?” he whined, sounding younger than the boy.

  He turned back to see sheer terror on Ryan’s face and noticed his legs twitching rapidly, followed next by his arms. Then his face sunk into a blank stare as he lost control of his body.

  “Claire!” Daniel shouted, but she was already at his side.

  She had seen this before and quickly responded by holding the boy’s head and reaching in for his tongue. “Try to hold his legs steady but don’t twist them.”

  “I don’t want to hurt him!” He reached for the boy’s legs.

  “You won’t. We just have to try to keep him from hurting himself.”

  She put more of her weight on his upper torso, trying to relax the shaking, and whispered in his ear. “It’s okay. Just relax, just relax, you’re going to be fine, Ryan.”

  Medically, she knew that he couldn’t hear her, but the additional effort helped to calm her whenever such an episode happened.

  After a few terrifying minutes, the shaking stopped. Ryan was alert but too tired to engage in any conversation. His nurse sat at his bedside and allowed him to recover his energy.

  Daniel sat in the corner of the room, still horrified at the whole ordeal. Leaning forward in his chair, he held his head in his hands, staring through his fingers.

  Claire repeatedly brushed Ryan’s hair back with her hand. She was doing her job with the same attention as always but wondered how well she could continue to care for anyone, with all the concerns that lingered around her new love.

  Daniel didn’t need another reminder that it was best to return to his room for rest. He descended the stairs slowly, one by one, in order to avoid another fainting spell. Ryan was in good hands now, and he f
elt it was best to just stay out of the way.

  That evening while they were in bed together, Claire reached for Daniel’s hand. He gripped hers and then lifted it to his lips for a kiss. He rolled over to face her. “So, what did the doctor say about my condition?”

  “He said we’ll know more tomorrow, so let’s talk about it then, okay?” She was fragile and unable to converse with him about the subject after such an emotional day. They kissed and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  Daniel dreamt about the day, the events leading to his illness, and Ryan’s face and body during his seizure. He awoke in fear, wondering if he shouldn’t be sitting upstairs to watch over the boy. Just in case, regardless of the alarm device that was set up to alert them to another episode. He stared at the ceiling as his flashbacks continued—now about his own life.

  He thought about his friends in the office, the family he’d lost, and his good fortune to have Art as a friend and mentor. He knew Art would give anything to help him. He was just that kind of a person. Daniel always wished to be more like him.

  His own words of prayer replayed in his head. Was he letting Ryan down by not giving him the same chance as the other two boys?

  He stared at Claire for an hour, watching her sleep and kissing her forehead gently. She was usually a light sleeper, but on this night, she didn’t hear him leave the bed or wake to the sounds of footsteps traveling up the creaky stairs.

  When he entered the room, there was a glow from the moon that spread like a calming blanket over the boy. Even though Ryan was resting quietly, Daniel couldn’t forget the horrible scene from earlier in the day. He walked quietly past the bed and out onto the balcony, searching for his star. He found it almost immediately, in the same place as before, still the brightest one in the sky.

  He took a deep breath and folded his hands together in prayer. “I don’t know what you have in store for me, but I can’t stand by and watch what’s in this boy’s future.”

  He paused and then recited his prayer as before—over and over, again and again.