Never Rest

by Marshall Thornton

  My parents had gone outside and, as I lay on the exam table, I could see them through the blinds having an argument behind my Dad’s Lexus hybrid. Behind them, the wind was kicking up whitecaps on the lake. My parents were going to be a problem. I needed them to back off. At least for a while. Once I was stabilized, things would be different.

  Dr. Harry put the portable defibrillator away in the cupboard.

  “Is this going to keep happening?” I asked. “Will my heart keep stopping like this?”

  “We’ll find a way to prevent it. There are medications we can try. I already have you on an anti-clotting medication.” He stood next to the table. “You should roll over onto your stomach.” I did, and he began to massage my back.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Rubbing out the bruising,” he said. I couldn’t believe he used the term ‘rubbing out.’ He must not know how suggestive that was. Did they not say that when he was young? ‘Rubbing one out’?

  “So, it’s a matter of finding the right medication? To get my heart back on track?”

  “Yes. Hopefully.”

  “And if we don’t?”

  “I suppose we could implant a pacemaker. But we don’t have an operating theater here, and I’m not a surgeon. It would require going to a hospital.”

  “And that would be difficult,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

  “Your vital signs would be confusing to most medical professionals.”

  “I might need a pacemaker to regulate my heart, but I can’t get one until we regulate my heart, is that it?”

  “It’s more complicated than that, but yes. Basically.” He lifted the waistband of my pajama bottoms. “Forgive me, but I think I need to massage...your buttocks.”

  “Oh,” I said, remembering that I’d spent a long time laying in bed with my heart not beating. “Um… Nobody’s going see that part of me.”

  “We’re trying to keep the blood flowing.”

  “Okay, yeah, go ahead.”

  I tried not to think about what he was doing. It was pretty embarrassing. It was also kind of relaxing, though. At least the part where he massaged my back. I drifted a bit, then asked, “What about the stem cell treatment? That will help, won’t it?”

  “I still have hopes for that. Your other organ systems seem to be improving. Your urine output is almost normal. Is your appetite improving?”

  “Yes,” I lied.

  “Good. I think everything should even out in a week or two. How are you getting on with Goliath?”

  “Why are you asking me that?”

  “Is there a reason I shouldn’t ask you?”

  “You knew Goth and I were gay when you chose us, didn’t you?”

  “Goth told me his story, yes. And your mother told me yours.”

  “You didn’t want me to be dead alone.”

  “Please don’t think of yourself as dead. That’s not productive. And it’s not true.”

  “Other people would think of me that way.”

  “You redefine the meaning of death.”

  Even if I’d had time to come up with goals before I got sick, I was pretty sure redefining the meaning of death would not have been among them. College. Boyfriend. Interesting career, probably. See, no redefining death.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Clattering. Chattering. The sounds of dishes clanking together and people talking. A restaurant. I barely understood where I was. Or wasn’t. The restaurant was once a simple two-story house, so the rooms are small. Their table was in the part of the house that was once the front porch.

  “Why do you think Jake needed to see the doctor so badly?”

  “I don’t know, Bobby. He may not have needed to see the doctor. He might have just been asserting his independence.”

  “Really? That’s what you think?”

  “Yes, that’s what I think.”

  “Well, what do you think about this new independent streak?” my father asked, buttering a piece of bread.

  “I’m not sure we can complain about it. I mean, it’s a normal part of growing up.”

  “I’ll complain about it. Look, I know he’s almost twenty and should be making his own decisions, but I feel like he’s completely cutting us out. If he were a healthy kid out on his own, all right. But he’s not.”

  “I do trust Dr. Harry.”

  My mother sipped her glass of red wine.

  “I might trust him, too, if I got to sit down and talk to him.”

  “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

  “And I want to be able to communicate with Jake during the week. It’s ridiculous that they’re blocking phone reception and wi-fi. It’s not the CIA. They’re not guarding national secrets.”

  “Don’t take it so personally, Bobby. It’s not directed at you.”

  The look on my dad’s face said he was resisting the temptation to snap at her. I could practically see him biting his tongue.

  “Well, maybe when they get more patients. Speaking of which, why aren’t there more patients?”

  “They’re not patients. They’re research subjects. And, now that Jake is a success, I’m sure they’ll fill the place up.”

  “Oh my God, how new is this treatment? I know you say he’s better, but if it’s all experimental that means anything could—”

  “Our son would be dead right now if he hadn’t come. We both know that.”

  He couldn’t say anything to that.

  “Look, Jake wants to be here. He wouldn’t have agreed if he wasn’t willing to take chances, and it’s too late to second guess his decision.” That made it sound like I’d actually agreed to come, which I didn’t remember doing. I didn’t remember making a decision, exactly.

  “Cher, I appreciate your saying that we’re still a family. That we’re partners when it comes to Jake.”

  “Well, we are…” She stopped and frowned. “I know I may have struggled with that from time to time. But I have always been glad you’ve stayed in Jake’s life.”

  “Me too.”

  The waitress arrived with their lunch order and set the dishes down in front of them. My mom and dad gave each other an uncomfortable look and then began eating.

  “Be careful what you say.” It was Dr. Harry’s voice. But why was he at dinner with my parents?

  He wasn’t. He was in his office, talking into his computer screen.

  “Someone may be listening in.”

  In a window on Dr. Harry’s screen, Dr. Callabray stared out. “Why would someone—? Have you been hacked? I thought your location was secure?”

  “It is. There has been a development. The subject has developed abilities which seem to be unscientific.”

  “Dr. Harry, have you been getting enough sleep?”

  “Of course I haven’t been getting enough sleep, but that has nothing to do with the things I’ve observed. The subject has heightened hearing for one thing…”

  “Really?” Dr. Callabray seemed to consider. “There have been reports of heightened senses surrounding death. Have you done any testing?”

  “No. I’m not sure I want him to understand the extent of his abilities.”

  “You said ‘for one thing.’ There’s more?”

  “He claims he’s able to project his consciousness outside of his body and he knows things he shouldn’t know.”

  “I’m sure that’s more coincidence than anything else.”

  “He’s seen things in my office, but there’s no way he could have been in there. I keep it locked.”

  “He could be guessing. Or maybe you’re wrong. Maybe he was in there.” There was a stern look on his face. “You know what you’re talking about isn’t possible scientifically. You’re talking about metaphysics. That’s not science.”

  “I can only report the data I’m seeing.”

  “This is all very disappointing. I’d hoped you were calling about another matter.”

  Dr. Harry took a moment. I could tell he didn’t want to say what he was about to say
. “You’ll be happy to know I’ve had a change of heart. I’ll be moving forward with five new subjects.”

  “You will? Well, that’s good to hear,” Dr. Callabray said. “Can I ask what changed your mind?”

  “I’ve gone over the test results again, and I find that they’re more encouraging than I originally thought.”

  “Excellent. You didn’t happen to get a letter from my attorney, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “If you do, just ignore it.” Dr. Callabray looked uncomfortable for a moment. “I hope you understand that having investors involved changes, well, everything. The potential earnings from Property Five and the supportive treatment we’re developing are simply massive. We have a duty to do everything we can to bring it to market.”

  “Yes, Dr. Callabray, I understand our duty.” Dr. Harry smiled at his computer screen. He wasn’t very good at smiling. “We’ll move forward as quickly as we can.”

  “I’m so glad to hear it,” Dr. Callabray said.

  And so was I.

  FORTY

  I woke to the sound of giggling girls, and I was giddy.

  It was Saturday evening, already dark. I glanced out the window, through the fly-spotted screen. The sun had set while I slept. Dr. Harry was going to continue with the study. Things were going to get better. Goth wouldn’t die. Neither would Edmond or the giggling girls.

  Wrestling myself into a sitting position, I looked across the ward and saw three girls, two of whom were bald, hanging out on Edmond’s bed. The center of attention, Edmond looked like he’d died and gone to heaven.

  “Look, he’s awake,” Edmond said. “This is my friend, Jake.”

  I wondered when exactly we became friends but smiled at them all anyway.

  “This is Rochelle and Cammy and Lea,” Edmond continued.

  Lea was the girl closest to him. She was thin and tall and wore a red scarf tied tight around her head. She had a blush in her cheeks that made her look almost healthy. Edmond couldn’t take his eyes off her. And, surprisingly, she looked back at him with the same fervor. Were they really in love? I hated to think they were. They’d just met, after all, but it looked like love. It did. Maybe it was only the hope love would happen. The hope they’d live long enough to fall in love for real.

  I wondered if this is what I was feeling for Goth. Hope instead of love. I mean, I hadn’t actually thought of my feelings for him as love. Not exactly. They were probably more lust. Was lust a sort of hope? And was it likely those feelings would turn to love? I was going to be around for a long while, so I guess I didn’t have to hurry through things. I had time to feel my way through this.

  “I saw this thing on the Internet,” Edmond said breathlessly. Well, everything he said was a bit breathless. “Did you know that you can’t grow beans from the beans you get in the supermarket?”

  The girls looked at him in awe.

  “I doubt that’s true,” Goth said.

  “No, it is. If you want to grow anything, you have to send away and pay a copyright fee.”

  Goth looked at me and rolled his eyes.

  “I mean, think about it,” Edmond continued. “What if there’s an apocalypse? Nobody will be able to grow beans. No one will be able to grow any kind of food. As soon as the canned food is gone, everyone will starve.”

  I guess that was Edmond for you. Sick with a deadly disease but concerned about how to get food during the coming apocalypse.

  The girl named Cammy had come over to my bed and stood staring at me. She was the one who still had hair, though it looked more like steel wool. The way she looked at me was kind of creepy.

  “My brother’s gay. He’s my favorite person in the world.” I had the uncomfortable feeling I’d already been nominated for second favorite. I wasn’t thrilled.

  “Okay,” I said, because what else do you say to something like that?

  “He’s a radical. He thinks the whole gay marriage thing was just a waste of time. Marriage is stupid. He hates that gays are getting married and having all these babies. He thinks they ought to be having sex all the time because that, because…” She paused. Obviously, she’d forgotten why her brother thought gay guys should be having sex all the time. “Well…just because. What do you think?”

  I looked over at Goth who lay in his bed smirking. I raised my eyebrows in a very clear SOS, which he ignored.

  “Um, how old are you?” I asked.

  “Almost seventeen.”

  “I think maybe you should wait a few years before you have conversations like this.” Forming a philosophy about the sexual behavior of gay men hardly seemed imperative for a sixteen-year-old girl.

  “But I might not be here in a few years,” Cammy replied as though I was completely idiotic. “I have non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, which is totally stupid.”

  “Yeah, cancer is stupid,” I said, deciding to be agreeable.

  “No, I mean the name.” She rolled her eyes. Clearly, I was an idiot. “Telling people what kind of cancer you have by telling them what kind of cancer you don’t have. It’s just stupid. The recovery rate for my cancer is ninety percent.”

  “Oh. That’s good. So why are you here?”

  Another eye roll. “Somebody has to be in the ten percent. My brother says it’s because I’m special. Being special isn’t as cool as he thinks it is.”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “You’re the one who got cured, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  She studied me closely. “You don’t look very good.”

  “Thanks.”

  She shrugged. “People who aren’t sick anymore shouldn’t look sick.”

  “There’s this thing called small talk, have you ever heard of it?”

  She frowned at me. “I know what small talk is. It’s boring. If I get cured, I’m going to look better than you.”

  I didn’t have time to come up with a response because Rochelle said very loudly, “Oh! That is just disgusting.” I glanced over to see Lea pulling her hand out from under the sheet on Edmond’s bed. Edmond had a rapturous look on his face.

  “Oh my God, she did it,” Rochelle called across the room to Cammy. “She said she was going to give him a handie and she did.”

  “That is so gross!” Cammy nearly shouted. It seemed her philosophy on the sexual behavior of teenage girls was fully formed. She was clearly against.

  “She just touched it a little,” Edmond said, obviously wanting to defend Lea but not doing such a great job.

  After that, it was downhill. Cammy and Rochelle insisted that it was time to go back to the ward. When Lea tried to stay, they refused to leave without her. So, after a bit of haggling, all three girls left.

  FORTY-ONE

  I slept like the dead that night, which I suppose should not come as a surprise. Twelve hours. Maybe thirteen. I was out. When I finally woke, my parents were standing at the foot of my bed. My mom had a piece of cheesecake for me. I took a few bites, and it was completely disgusting. Everything I ate was disgusting. I had this horrible thought that my taste buds had decomposed to the point where I’d never enjoying eating again.

  It was a sucky thought.

  But then I remembered Dr. Harry had looked at the data again and was encouraged. I wanted to see him and ask him when he was going to start giving the others Property Five. First, though, I had to spend the day with my parents.

  They took me out to the solarium to visit. It was a hot day and insects were buzzing outside. My dad was wearing shorts and sweating; my mom looked comfortable in a sundress and flip-flops. Sunlight seemed to be everywhere, and I squinted at my dad as he talked about how he wanted to corner Dr. Harry and insist that he provide wi-fi.

  The way he was talking, you’d think an Internet connection was now a constitutional right. When I said that might not be a good idea, that Dr. Harry had plenty do with without turning the Institute into a Starbuck’s, he offered to pay for the wireless.

  “That’s an imp
ortant life lesson, Jake. When you offer people shit for free, they rarely turn it down.”

  I just nodded when he said that. It might be true, but I had the feeling there were more important life lessons I needed to learn. Surprisingly, it was my mom who came to my rescue. Out of the blue, she said, “Bobby, we may be taking this all the wrong way. If Jake wants to be more independent, it’s because he’s getting better. This is exactly what we’ve always hoped for. That he’d get better, that he’d be able to grow up.”

  My dad looked at me, then at her, then back at me, and asked, “This is you growing up?”

  “Yes,” I said. It was way better than the truth, so I was going to latch onto it as hard as I could. “I’m growing up.”

  “Don’t feel like you have to grow up entirely. Your mom and I like it when you need us. Separately or together. Either way.”

  That made me feel sort of bad. My parents were both pretty decent, even if they were really annoying, and the fact that I was lying to them made me feel shitty. I mean, I hadn’t been in any big rush to tell them I was gay, but that was different. They didn’t need to know that. They did kind of need to know that—in certain circles at least—I was dead. Or kind of dead. They were going to be really pissed when they found out.

  I coaxed my mom into talking about how her week at work was. They were super happy to have her back, and she glowed a little while talking about the things her boss—

  Someone was screaming in my ward. It was Goth. He was yelling for help. I rushed out of the solarium, down the hall to the ward. My parents came behind me. When I got into the ward, the first thing I saw was Nurse Kelly on top of Edmond pumping his chest.

  “He’s not breathing,” Goth yelled. “We need Dr. Harry. Where’s Dr. Harry?”

  “He’s upstairs,” Nurse Kelly said, pumping on Edmond’s chest.