Balancer

by Patrick Wong

  “He doesn’t deserve to suffer like this. He’s just a little kid.” Mr. Geller became choked up at his own words and needed a moment to regain his composure. “I’d gladly trade my life for his.”

  The bus drew up, and Nicole indicated that it was hers. She gave Mr. Geller a hug and got on the bus — in part as an escape. Painful feelings coursed through her — of her mom’s words about leaving a part of herself behind, of her difficulties in helping others. Nicole’s own pain at the thought of Ethan dying was bad enough, but it must be multiplied hundreds of times for his parents. How could they bear it?

  Still the bus wouldn’t leave. She watched helplessly as an old lady shuffled on slowly, followed by a woman who was digging in her pockets for money.

  Could she just leave without trying? Could she live with herself?

  There was a quickening in her veins as she unwrapped the folded-up crayon picture of freckled SuperNix. She held it in her hands as though it were a delicate, gold leaf. The beating of her heart caused the picture to judder with every pulse.

  Outside the bus, Mr. Geller leaned heavily against the wall of the bus stop. Part of him was so desperate to see his son he could burst, and another part couldn’t bear to go back in, to face it all again.

  The bus engine revved, and he watched it pull away as if his last hope were leaving on that bus. He shut his eyes.

  He clenched his fists in anger and swallowed the bitter pill of his reality. Then, something made him open his eyes again and look up as the bus moved off.

  Nicole stood in its place.

  She had an expression on her face that he hadn’t seen before, and as she approached him, he straightened up. He let her speak first, because somehow he felt that was meant to happen.

  “Did you mean what you said about trading your life for Ethan’s?”

  “Yes.” Mr. Geller didn’t have to think twice about it.

  “I can do that,” Nicole said softly.

  “What?”

  “I can do that,” Nicole whispered more firmly, meaning every word.

  Set Aside the

  Scarier Thoughts

  Tim Geller and Nicole sat side by side on the

  bench in the hospital gardens. Just two stories above them was Ethan’s room. Mr. Geller had wanted to stay as close as possible to his son, so they had found this bench. If Nicole looked closely, she could even see a glimpse of Ethan through the blinds.

  A few old cigarette butts were littered at their feet, and there was a faint whiff of alcohol alongside the mess of discarded beer cans in the undergrowth of the bushes surrounding them. To Nicole, it seemed a strange kind of place for a miracle to occur. Or perhaps, in a way, it was the most ideal.

  Tim Geller had his eyes shut and his hands clenched together as though he was praying. His arms were muscled up in tension, and in the last few moments since they had sat down, he had been running everything through in his mind.

  He was so painfully aware that his son could leave this world at any moment that he had already said his goodbyes many times before. He did it and meant it every time he left Ethan’s hospital bed, whether he uttered the actual words or not.

  Other parents might make other decisions, but for Tim Geller, this situation was no different from any other sacrifice he would make for Ethan, his only child. His love for his son was so fierce that naturally he would rescue him from a burning building or push him out of harm’s way and risk enduring the pain himself. The choice Nicole had offered simply transplanted these decisions to a different setting. This was another kind of way to give up his life to save his son.

  He felt a sure stab of pain at the thought of having to leave his wife, Cindy. If he didn’t do this now, though, their son would die. They would go on together for sure, and perhaps in time they might have another child. But wouldn’t they both be too broken over the loss of their beloved Ethan?

  Whichever choice he made, he would not see Ethan again. But this way, the two people he loved most in the world could find happiness together.

  He looked up at Nicole.

  “What do we do?”

  Nicole was relieved that he had decided quickly, because she wasn’t sure how long she could hold her nerve, despite the unwavering knowledge deep in her heart that this was the right thing to do. It had helped in this case that the choice wasn’t hers to make.

  She had quickly set aside the scarier thoughts of how she would feel after the deed had been done. As Mr. Geller had been contemplating his choice, she had remembered with some irony the Harry Potter books, and how Harry’s life was marked by his mother’s singular act of sacrifice. For Nicole, Ethan’s father would be doing the exact same thing.

  Her mind raced with the next steps they would take. In her experience, being close to either one of the life forms meant the transfer would occur. In the hospital, she had revived the daisies by thinking of the roses, so she would do the same for father and son.

  She unfolded Ethan’s crayon portrait and set it on her knee. She placed her palm face down on it.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” Tim Geller replied softly.

  Then, very simply, Nicole hugged him the way she would embrace her dad.

  She thought of how her dad called her “mouse,” which dated back to when she was a baby and would apparently squeal with happiness whenever tickled. She thought of her mom’s sadness and concern — not just recently, but many times that she had known in the past, when her love for Nicole was evident and concern harried her features. She remembered the ice-cold fear of losing her parents and all of the nightmares she’d had when she was Ethan’s age about them dying. How annihilating feeling so alone would be.

  As if a warm breeze had stirred over her, suddenly she imagined Ethan laughing, and how happy he would be, as the color returned to his cheeks, and he found he could draw his first painless breath.

  All of a sudden, Ethan’s SuperNix drawing appeared abruptly in her mind’s eye, like a vision. The crayon image was strongly accompanied by a sharp knot in her stomach. Another crayon figure now stood to the left of SuperNix: a rendering of Mr. Geller as drawn by Ethan. He had dark hair, kind eyes, and was wearing jeans and a striped sweater.

  The quickening returned to Nicole now, and it was almost as if the blood were fizzing around her veins.

  She thought of the vitality returning to Ethan as he ripped the oxygen mask away from his face and sat up in bed. Then, the lines making up Mr. Geller’s arms disappeared, and a crayon drawing of Ethan’s arms appeared in the space to Nicole’s right.

  As Nicole thought with joy of Ethan throwing off his bed covers and tearing the tape securing the tubes from his arms, Mr. Geller’s leg was wiped from the page. It was as if she wielded an invisible eraser. In turn, a crayon leg appeared for Ethan, with jeans and his favorite red sneakers.

  With each thought of the boy’s return to health and the surging joy that accompanied it, a new crayon picture of Ethan continued to form. As each stroke completed Ethan, the picture of Mr. Geller diminished.

  Nicole wouldn’t open her tearful eyes, but could still feel Mr. Geller’s weakening grip around her. Finally, with one last surge that felt a little like a firework in the middle of her chest, she imagined Ethan jumping out of bed and running down the hospital corridor, crying with happiness. His elated mother waited for him at the end, her arms outstretched, tears in her eyes and a wide smile on her pretty face.

  Ethan reached her and she lifted him high, calling his name over and over as she twirled him ’round.

  The final part of the crayon Ethan was drawn now. As his hand reached up to hold SuperNix’s, the last part of Mr. Geller faded.

  Then, Nicole felt Mr. Geller’s grip loosen.

  He had let go.

  She opened her eyes, sat back and gazed down at Mr. Geller. He now looked pale and faded. His breathing was hoarse, and he winced in terrible pain, bearing the agony that his child had endured.

  Mr. Geller managed a small smile wi
th the little life he had left. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  Nicole could only nod. She hugged him again, not wanting him to feel alone.

  Tim Geller smiled again before closing his eyes, forever.

  For any of the passersby or hospital visitors, the pair on the bench were simply people comforting each other at a difficult time.

  When Nicole released Mr. Geller from the hug, she leaned back with her arm still around his back and gently reclined his body against bench.

  Man and girl seated side by side.

  It looked as though they were sitting together in silence.

  A Side Order of Fries

  The flow of oxygen had made Ethan cough, so he pulled off the mask and called out for his mom. His abrupt movement jolted her awake, and she lifted her head from her arms, cursing herself for having slept at her son’s side. She, like her husband, had not wanted to miss a second with him.

  An old mischievous look in Ethan’s eyes told her all she needed to know. For the first time in two long years, her son no longer seemed tired or racked by pain. Her heart wasn’t crushed by the sure knowledge that her child was suffering and she could do nothing to help. She saw him then, as he had once been; the boy before he developed the terrible illness that had racked his bones and almost taken him from her. The cheeky 6-year-old who had chased the cat around the house with a wooden spoon, turned the Koi pond into a swamp and insisted on unraveling a whole roll of tinfoil to make a spaceship, only to abandon it halfway through.

  His mom pressed the emergency call button.

  “Please come in here now! Hurry!” She was laughing when she spoke, but the nurse could have easily misinterpreted her voice over the speaker to be that of someone who was crying.

  “Hold on, Mrs. Geller. We’re on our way!”

  In less than a minute, nurses with emergency carts rushed into the room before freezing in their tracks, confused.

  For the first time in their professional careers, they had no idea what to do next.

  The following few moments would take the breath from all those around. Ethan refused to put the oxygen mask back on, and suddenly he felt hungry. In fact, he was ravenous, and all he could think about was chomping into a juicy cheeseburger with a side of fries, washed down with a strawberry milkshake. The bones in his legs itched deep down to kick and move, and he was fidgeting around in his bed like somebody had tipped a bunch of ants in there.

  It was a miracle.

  The doctors who arrived at his mom’s request would urge caution at Ethan’s improvement, but even they would return to their homes that evening with their minds buzzing over the impossibility of what had occurred.

  Cindy Geller pinched herself awake a hundred times, just in case she was still asleep at Ethan’s bedside. She had never thought this day would come, even in her wildest dreams. She was awake, and her boy was more alive than she had seen him in many years.

  She hardly knew what to do with herself, but found all she wanted to do was just hug Ethan and keep hold of him even as he tried to wriggle free.

  A miracle had indeed happened. Her prayer had been answered.

  But a tragic discovery was yet to come.

  Feigning Panic

  Nicole took a breath, looked across one more time at Mr. Geller, and then prepared herself for what would have to happen next.

  A businesswoman, about her mom’s age, was passing by. Nicole waited until she was closer before choosing her moment, and then she grabbed Ethan’s father by the shoulders.

  “Mr. Geller! Mr. Geller!” she shouted in feigned panic.

  The woman turned and her face paled. She could see the stricken man with his head slumped down, and that the girl was in some kind of shock.

  The next few moments were all a blur.

  Promising Nicole she’d be back, the woman hurried to reception to get help. Moments later, she returned, flanked by an emergency response crew. Mr. Geller’s body was lifted onto a gurney, and Nicole faced the barrage of questions from the paramedics about what had happened.

  Had anyone checked her smartphone, they would have found that she had Googled “heart attack symptoms” only minutes before she alerted the passerby.

  As she watched Mr. Geller being wheeled into the hospital, she allowed herself a few moments to get her story straight. In Ethan’s hospital room above, she caught a glimpse of the flurry of activity. She was fighting her tremendous curiosity to see for herself what had happened to Ethan. However, she also had the unswerving conviction that the life transfer had worked. She couldn’t explain it rationally; it was something she felt was right in every fiber of her being.

  Nicole knew she would draw attention to herself if she approached anyone she knew in the hospital, so she stood still, waiting, not knowing where to go next.

  She worried about how she’d come across to the paramedics — whether she’d acted correctly if she had genuinely witnessed Mr. Geller’s heart attack. She knew she wasn’t a good enough actress to give that kind of performance, but it was something Amy could have done easily.

  Amy.

  Suddenly Nicole felt as though sadness might swallow her whole. Sorrow arrived, a culmination of the last few minutes, in which everything that had happened hit her like an emotional body blow. Rarely in her life had something as big as this occurred and Amy was not by her side.

  How could she explain this to Amy? Where would she begin? What would she say?

  She had, then, the terrible fear that this gift would keep her alone from now on. It was an unbearable prospect.

  Before tears could arrive, a hand grabbed at her arm and she jumped, torn from her thoughts.

  It was her mom.

  Nicole fought every inclination just to grab and hug her, desperately wanting comfort.

  With a grave expression on her face, her mom took her by the shoulders, and for a horrible moment, Nicole thought she might lead her inside where she could be forced to answer more questions.

  “Nicole, they said you were with Mr. Geller?”

  Nicole nodded.

  “I’ve got some bad news.”

  Nicole’s heart thumped furiously as the fear that she had made a fatal error lurched through her.

  Had she made a mistake?

  Was Ethan dead too?

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Nicole, but Mr. Geller died. We think of a heart attack. There was nothing more you could have done for him.”

  The irony of that statement hit Nicole hard. She could barely grasp the gravity of everything she had just engineered.

  Feeling a massive surge of emotion rise up through her, she covered her face with her hands. As she sobbed, she allowed her mom to embrace her. At least her cries could be explained away by the enormity of what had just occurred.

  “Why didn’t you come get me?” her mom whispered soothingly, stroking her hair.

  Nicole shrugged in her mom’s arms.

  As she broke away from their hug, Nicole could see her mom had been crying too.

  Nicole indicated she understood. “How’s Mrs. Geller?”

  Her mom smiled sadly. “Not good,” she answered, stroking a stray strand of Nicole’s hair from her eyes. She seemed to be studying Nicole’s face for some clues. She wasn’t getting the kind of reaction she had expected, and it was troubling her.

  “There is some good news. Ethan’s come through his bad patch, just a few minutes ago.”

  Nicole nodded as though this was news to her. Actually, it brought a mixture of intense feelings — tremendous relief and the dawning of her new reality. She had done it. She had taken life from Mr. Geller and given it to his son.

  She wondered how the doctors would react after the tests came through in the coming weeks, giving Ethan a clean bill of health.

  In the weeks to follow, Cindy and Ethan Geller would have to come to terms with joy and dreadful loss as the grim reality sank in. Through her faith, Cindy felt strongly that Tim’s spirit would live on in their son and that they woul
d all be reunited again, someday. The irony of that belief didn’t escape Nicole. Tim’s spirit truly would live on in their son. Could that saying have originated thousands of years ago because of what a Balancer once did?

  “At least she has Ethan.”

  Evidently Nicole’s mom thought this was a strange thing for Nicole to say. She regarded her daughter curiously.

  “I’ll take you home if you can wait an hour or so?”

  “I’d like to go now. I can just catch the next bus. I’ll see you at home, OK?”

  Without waiting for an answer, Nicole turned and headed toward the bus stop.

  She was beginning to understand the implications of her actions. She had not only changed one family’s world forever; she had irrevocably altered her own.

  She couldn’t know just yet what path this would take her on.

  In fact, Nicole’s journey was only just beginning.

  It’s the Makeup Girl

  Carter’s long trench coat billowed behind him as he and Bishop strode down the corridors of Evergreen Hospital. They were following the hospital CEO’s assistant, and staff knew to dart out of their way.

  The agents had resisted setting up base in Reston in order to remain observers to the usually peaceful suburb, but the call they had received an hour earlier had changed all of that. Carter had taken it, and by the smile that had spread across his face, Bishop thought they were suddenly closer to solving the mystery. It didn’t matter that Carter had a family wedding this weekend or that they had just spent the past 24 hours pursuing yet another wrong turn. This, Carter had announced, was the real deal.

  In their Suburban on the way over, they had looked over the scant details of the case. A healthy, fit, 38-year-old man had died suddenly on the grounds of the hospital. The call for help had been sounded by a family friend, who also happened to be the daughter of one of the ER doctors. Carter had cut off the beginnings of Bishop’s protests by reporting that the chief pathologist had found something very unusual about the body. As if that weren’t enough, the father had died at the exact same time his terminally ill son had gone into remission.