Never Rest

by Marshall Thornton

  We held each other and drifted. Eventually, I fell asleep.

  FORTY-FOUR

  While we were going through our routine the next morning, Goth and I kept peeking at each other and trying not to giggle. Nurse Kelly noticed how we were acting and eyed us suspiciously.

  “What’s the joke?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “Sometimes it’s just nice to be alive,” Goth said.

  “Do you still need the oxygen?” she asked, as though to challenge him.

  He stopped smiling. “Yeah, I do.”

  That gave me a sinking feeling. I guess that was something else I was learning about sex. It made you forget all the shitty things that were happening. I hadn’t thought about Goth being sick in almost a whole day.

  Nurse Kelly fitted Goth up with the cannula and checked the levels on the oxygen. “You’ll need a new tank soon. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  When she left, I asked him, “So you’re not feeling better.” Then I nearly bit my tongue off. “You know what? Don’t answer. I’ve been getting asked that for five years and I hated it. Usually I lied.”

  Goth shrugged. “I’m not feeling much better physically. Emotionally, I feel amazing.”

  That made me smile. I wanted to go over and crawl into bed with him but knew I’d have to wait until it was dark and Miss Haggerty took her morphine nap. I wondered if I should tell Goth about the dreaming, sleepwalking thing I did—not yet, though. Eventually, but not now. Now I wanted to enjoy the fact that he really liked me. Loved me. Which would be easier to do if he wasn’t wondering if I was batshit crazy.

  What if Goth got sicker? What if Dr. Harry wouldn’t give him property—

  My parents walked in. My dad had his arms full of two brown paper bags. He said, “Come on, Jake. We’re going to have brunch on the beach. Then your mom and I have to get on the road. We have to be back in Chicago.”

  “You have to get back to Chicago. I’m just a passenger,” my mother pointed out, but she didn’t seem so upset about going home.

  “I’m sorry, Cher, I am. It’s not my fault.” To me, he said, “Kevin and Kourtney—”

  “The steplings,” I corrected, so that Goth would be able to follow the conversation. When I glanced over at him, he was practically smirking.

  “Yes, the steplings. Their dad was supposed to keep them until tomorrow morning, but he’s dropping them off this afternoon. And Amelia’s not going to be home with the twins until eight tonight.”

  “They’re teenagers. They can’t be alone for a few hours?” I don’t know why I said that. I actually wanted my parents to leave so I could spend the whole day with Goth. What I’d meant was “Bye-bye!”

  “Listen to what you just said, Jake. Teenagers. Alone. Hours. Not a good idea.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  After that, I couldn’t do much but let them drag me out of bed. Stealing glances at Goth as we left, I hoped maybe he’d take a nap while we were gone and feel amazingly better when I got back. My parents walked me out of the ward, out of the building, then down the walk to the street and across to the small beach.

  There was a straggly tree on one side and a well-weathered pile of firewood that could be used to make a bonfire. My mom spread a blanket across the sand. My dad carried it in the back of his car, just in case. My mom traveled with thick towels, and my dad traveled with a blanket. They were a lot more alike than they’d ever admit.

  “Do we have any idea how long you’re going to be here, Jake?” my dad asked. He probably wanted to know if he’d have to come back. Less than a month, he wouldn’t have to. More than a month, and he might feel obligated.

  “We don’t,” my mom said before I could answer. “It’s research, so it’s important.”

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t important. I just want how long my son’s going to be here.” My dad was starting to unpack the bags. “And I’m sure they’re going to be studying Jake even after he leaves.”

  My mom decided to ignore him. “Jake, we got all your favorites at the deli. Ham and Swiss on a Kaiser roll. Mayo, mustard, relish. Smashed potato salad. Cole Slaw. And that fruit salad you like, Ambrosia.”

  My favorites? It was news to me. Not to mention I was about as far from hungry as you could get. “I just had a big breakfast.”

  “You did? What did you eat?”

  “Eggs and bacon and a couple of pancakes.” That was Goth’s breakfast from Mickey D’s. My real breakfast was a few bites of oatmeal and a spoonful of yogurt that I’d been tempted to spit out.

  “Good. You’re getting your appetite back,” my mother said. “I’m sure you can find a little room for brunch.”

  My dad was spreading everything out on the blanket. They’d thought of everything. Paper plates, plastic forks, little packets of mustard for the sandwiches. I stood, reluctant to sit down. I was a little worried that the ants might choose me over the picnic. I’d already attracted one fly, which I swatted at a couple of times.

  Part of me wanted to tell them I wasn’t a virgin anymore, that I was head-over-heels in love with Goth, but that would make the whole brunch even weirder than it already was. I mean, I hadn’t officially told my dad I was gay. He’d be cool. My mom would be gushy which would be decidedly uncool. Still, I’d never thought it would happen so I kind of—

  “Jake, you’re smiling. You really are feeling better, aren’t you?”

  “I bought champagne,” my dad announced, pulling a bottle out of the bag. “We should celebrate your getting better.”

  “But I’m not twenty-one.”

  “Oh, my God, what kind of child did we raise?” he said to my mom.

  “You can have a glass of champagne with your parents, Jake. No one will arrest you.”

  My mom made a plate of food for me, piling it ridiculously high on the plate. She set it in front of me, and I ignored it. When we each had a plastic cup of champagne, my dad proposed a toast. “To Jake, who has a future.”

  We clinked glasses but not really. Plastic glasses don’t clink. They don’t make much of a sound at all.

  I took a sip of champagne. It tasted sharp and kind of sour. One sip was enough, I set the glass down on the blanket and ignored it. I kind of hoped it would spill so I didn’t have to drink it.

  Reluctantly, I picked up the plastic fork and scooped up some ambrosia. It didn’t look appealing, but my mom would be all over me if I didn’t at least try to eat. I got it in my mouth and chewed on it for a long time.

  “Jake, you should really get a timeline from Dr. Harry,” my dad suggested. Back to topic. “That way we can talk about getting you into school for the spring semester.”

  My mom had said things like that herself but now she was silent. Just sipping her champagne instead.

  “I haven’t thought about it much,” I said. “A lot has happened in the last few weeks.”

  “Why don’t we put our feet into the lake?” my mom suggested.

  I looked out at the lake, which was choppy and angry-looking. “Isn’t it awfully cold?” Not that I would notice that.

  “It might be. It has been a very cold summer.”

  “Cher, it’s one of the hottest summers on record.”

  “Oh, it is not.”

  “It is. Google it.” Suddenly, the phone in his pocket pinged. He pulled it out and looked at it. “Huh, I got a text. From Amelia.”

  He typed in a quick text and then waited. “Crap, it’s not going through. I’ve barely got a bar.” He stood up and, holding the phone up in the air, tried to find a better signal. “I’ll be right back,” he said, wandering off down the beach.

  “Your friend Goliath didn’t look very good today.”

  “He’ll be okay.”

  “Of course, he’ll be okay. Dr. Harry knows what he’s doing.”

  Did he? He wasn’t happy with the way things were going. So unhappy that he wouldn’t give Edmund the treatment even though he was dying. Property Five worked, but everything after i
t didn’t. That meant Dr. Harry didn’t really know what he was doing at all.

  “Why do you believe in him?” I asked.

  “Jake, he saved you. And you’re doing so well.”

  An idea had been slowly forming in my head for a while. Suddenly it popped. Became whole and I realized… “You knew, didn’t you? You’ve known all along?”

  “Known what?”

  “That Dr. Harry wasn’t an oncologist. That the treatment I’m getting isn’t for leukemia.”

  “Of course the treatment was for leukemia. You’re cured, aren’t you?”

  “Tell the truth, Mom. You told Dad that Dr. Harry was an oncologist, but you saw his website. You were communicating with him before we came. You knew he wasn’t an oncologist. You knew he was studying life extension. Not leukemia.”

  “Life is life, Jake. He said he could save you. That’s all I needed to know.”

  “But I wasn’t saved. I was just— I’m a different kind of sick now. That’s all. A sick that isn’t ever going to end.”

  “I have every confidence that, Dr. Harry—”

  “Edmond died. Dr. Harry decided not to give him Property Five because of me, because I’m not doing as well as he’d like.”

  “That’s not true, Jake. You’ve misunderstood the situation. I’ll have a talk—”

  “I’ve been using that cologne you gave me—”

  “Oh, good—”

  “But I still smell bad. And it’s not because I’m not bathing properly. I smell because I’m decomposing.”

  “Decomposing? Oh, that is so overly dramatic.” She chuckled. “You know, I don’t think any woman is really prepared to raise a boy. The things that interest you are so alien. I mean, literally aliens sometimes. And zombies. And vampires. And violent. Everything boys think about is so violent. Even with your being gay it’s still about these creepy, weird—”

  “Mom, the night I got here. I died.”

  “You had a close call. But you were saved.”

  “I died. And Dr. Harry couldn’t bring me back.”

  She frowned, lines bracketing her mouth. “So, are you a ghost? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No. I’m not a ghost. But I’m not alive.”

  “You’re sitting right there. Talking to me. You’re alive.”

  I shook my head. “No, you’re wrong. I’m conscious. It’s not the same thing as alive. Not anymore.”

  “Jake, you’re not dead, so you have to be alive.”

  “I’m something else. Something in between. Something very wrong.”

  “Morbid. That’s the thing about boys. No matter what they have this disturbing morbid streak that is so—”

  “Stop it! Stop pretending!”

  She breathed heavily for a moment, glanced down the beach at my father who looked to have gotten enough bars and had made a call. After a deep cleansing breath, she said, “You don’t understand, Jake. I’m not sure you can. You don’t know what it’s like, a mother’s love for her son. It’s everything. I love you. I love you too much to let you die. I had to do everything I could. Whatever it was, I had to do it. And I’d do it again. In a heartbeat. I hope, maybe, someday you’ll love someone enough to understand what I did.”

  We stared at each other. Did I understand what she was saying? I didn’t know. It seemed really big. But I did know I couldn’t tell her to stop loving me. It would be kind of pointless.

  Then she said, “Jake, there’s something crawling out of your ear.”

  And just as she said it, I could feel it. I reached up and swiped my ear with my finger. When I looked at my hand there were a half dozen, cream-colored pieces of rice laying there; rice that wiggled.

  FORTY-FIVE

  Maggots. Maggots were crawling out of my ear.

  “Oh my God,” Nurse Kelly said. The way she looked at me suggested no one in nursing school had mentioned she might have to deal with something this gross. “I’ll get Dr. Harry.”

  My parents were flipping out. Well, my dad was. Whatever was going on with Amelia and the steplings, it was now even more important that my parents get on the road. But here I was having another medical crisis. I could tell he really wanted to ask how long it was all going to take but was afraid it would be obnoxious.

  “You guys can go if you need to.”

  “No, Jake, we need to stay,” my mom said.

  “To do what?” I asked. “Dr. Harry will be here in a minute, and we’ll go into the exam room. And you’ll wait out here. I don’t need you to do that.”

  “He does have a point, Cher.”

  My mom looked at me closely. I could tell she was thinking about our conversation. That maybe it would be good if she left and gave me a little time. “Are you sure, Jake?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “All right then,” my dad said. He stepped forward and hugged me. He frowned at the smell of me but didn’t say anything.

  My mom hugged me. “I’ll be back on Friday,” she said. And then pulled me down to whisper into my ear. “I hope you can forgive me.” She stepped back, waiting for me to say I forgave her.

  But I couldn’t say it. Not yet.

  Dr. Harry rushed down the stairs, looking as though he hadn’t slept in a week. His face was sallow, his cheeks sunken and grisly. His beard was still a mess. It looked like he’d tried to clean up his neck but only succeeded in slicing his Adam’s apple.

  His eyes flashed to my parents. “What’s going on? Miss Haggerty says you have maggots in your ear?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Um. No, that’s ridiculous,” he said firmly. “You have lice. One of the girls had a problem with lice just a few days ago.”

  Presumably the one who still had hair, I thought. But then remembered it didn’t matter. He was probably lying for my parents’ benefit.

  “Oh, lice!” my dad said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard anyone talk about lice.” I was sure there was a regulation against them in Park Ridge.

  “I guess we’ve over-reacted,” my mom agreed.

  “Well, we need to get on the road,” my dad said. “And Jake needs a shampoo and maybe a haircut.”

  “Let’s go into the exam room. I’ve got a lice comb in there,” Dr. Harry said.

  My parents watched as we walked into the exam room. As soon as the door was shut, I said, “It’s not lice.”

  “Of course, not. Get up on the table while I find tweezers.”

  He opened and closed a few drawers, found the tweezers, and set a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a small plastic bottle with a nozzle like a bent straw on the counter. Then he filled the bottle up with a mixture of water and rubbing alcohol.

  “Lay on your side so I can get to your ear,” he said.

  I did as I was told. Dr. Harry set a little metal tray on the exam table beside me. Then he squirted the water mixture into my ear. It felt like an ice pick going in. To get to my ear, he needed to be close to me. He had an old man smell of booze and stale sweat.

  “This is why I’m not willing to continue the study, Jake. Do you understand now?”

  “I’m getting better. That’s what you told Dr. Callabray.”

  He stopped for a moment, not liking that I knew things. He used a piece of gauze to soak up the fluid he’d dumped in my ear. And with it some of the maggots.

  “That was a private conversation, Jake.”

  “You lied. I’m not getting better.”

  “No. You’re not.”

  “But I might. If you told Dr. Callabray the truth.”

  He ignored that. “You need to stop going outside.” Then he took the tweezers and began pulling maggots out of my ear one by one. It was tedious. Each time he pulled one out, I shivered. It tickled in the most disgusting way.

  “Couldn’t you just get me some bug repellent?”

  “I’m not sure that would work. Flies are attracted by the smell of decay.”

  “What about Goth?”

  “He can go out as much as he wants.”


  “No, I mean he’s sick. He’s getting sicker. You need to give him Property Five.”

  “I’m not continuing the study. It wouldn’t be ethical.”

  Ethical? That was a weird word for him to use. The things in the double-wide, the frog, the rats, the little girl, none of that seemed ethical.

  “He’s going to die soon,” I said.

  “Yes. He is.”

  “You brought him here for me. So neither of us would be alone. You can’t let him die.”

  “It’s become more complicated.”

  “I’m rotting. I get it. But I’m conscious. Isn’t there hope as long as I remain conscious?”

  “Yes, of course, there is,” Dr. Harry said. I wished he’d said in a more convincing tone. “Hold still.”

  He rinsed my ear out again.

  “If there’s hope for me, there’s hope for others.”

  Dr. Harry didn’t reply.

  FORTY-SIX

  When I got back to the ward after Dr. Harry had scraped out my ear and packed it with cotton, I went immediately to the bathroom. Positioning myself in front of the mirror, I pulled off the bandage and yanked out the cotton. I hadn’t realized it before, but I wasn’t hearing so well out of that ear. I mean, I probably didn’t realize because I was still hearing all sorts of things I shouldn’t hear with my other ear. I got all the cotton out and then…

  I had to do it. I had to know. I slipped my finger into my ear. What I found made me shiver. Where my ear canal had been was a sort of cavern, ragged and rough around the edges, scooped out, hollow and already itching. I pulled my finger out and promised myself I’d never stick it back in again. I packed the cotton back into my ear and put the bandage back on. The tape had lost some of its adhesion, but after a few tries I got it to stick.

  Stopping what I was doing, I just stared at myself. My dad was right. I was a little green, my lips were bluish and waxy. My skin was waxy too, like I was something out of a wax museum. I’d obviously lost weight, and deep caverns were below my cheeks. The only bright spot was my hair. It was still growing and didn’t look as patchy as it used to.