Evolution

by L.L. Bartlett

  An orderly wheeled Jeff’s gurney into the recovery room and Dan pulled down his mask. “Piece of cake,” he told Richard. Except Jeff’s appendix had ruptured before he’d reached the OR. That meant his recovery wouldn’t be as smooth and would take longer.

  Richard pulled down his own mask. “Thanks, Dan.”

  Dan clapped him on the shoulder and turned, then looked over at one of the nurses. “What have we got next?”

  Richard glanced at his watch. It was almost midnight. He had six hours until he had to report for duty.

  He trundled out to the recovery room to check on Jeff who was still groggy from the anesthesia. He rested a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “Hey, kid, you came through the surgery just fine.”

  “… my negs … homework … the developer,” Jeff muttered and closed his eyes again.

  He’s a drug addict!

  “If all goes well, we’ll be moving him to a room in an hour or so,” one of the nurses told Richard. She smiled, reminding him of Cathy, and he felt another pang of regret at losing her.

  “Thanks.”

  Jeff was asleep again and, feeling better about the kid, Richard finally allowed himself the luxury of seeking out sustenance. With the cafeteria closed, he found a stale doughnut and a carafe of muddy coffee to serve as his long-delayed dinner. By now, Cathy would have been asleep for hours. How he’d wanted to call her, talk about what had happened, gain her perspective. But she had the last of her packing in front of her. In another day the moving van would arrive to take her away from her friends and family and a whole new life.

  Richard sat at the lonely table in the doctor’s lounge and forced down the doughnut and the bad coffee. His thoughts kept circling back to his grandmother, the hurtful words and the venom with which they’d been delivered.

  By the time Richard returned to the recovery room, an orderly and a nurse were preparing Jeff for the trip to his semi-private room. He followed them, watched as they transferred him to a bed and the nurse hung the bag of antibiotics. On the other side of the curtain, an obese man snored loud enough to wake the dead.

  The nurse checked Jeff’s vitals and left the cramped, airless and overheated room.

  Richard hovered over the inert form of his sibling, feeling at a loss as to what to do. He didn’t want to leave the kid, who was sure to wake up confused, and yet he yearned for his own bed. He reached for his brother’s wrist, found comfort in the plodding pulse. The kid’s face was lax in sleep, with no clue about the pain and discomfort he had to face in the next few days.

  He’s a drug addict!

  Richard settled himself in the uncomfortable chair by the bedside but, despite his fatigue, couldn’t relax.

  His mother was a whore!

  Had his grandmother forgotten for the moment that Jeff’s mother was also his mother? Though she hadn’t before said those words in front of him, somehow he’d always known she believed them.

  It had been a mistake, a big mistake, to allow Jeff to live in that household, subjected to that kind of animosity on a daily basis.

  What it had been was convenient. Convenient for Richard to go off to work, or weekends skiing, and leave the kid to pretty much fend for himself, with just Curtis as a somewhat haphazard surrogate caregiver.

  Not for the first time, guilt surfaced as Richard admitted he’d never really taken his responsibility as guardian seriously. When the kid’s school had called him in to tell him Jeff probably suffered from an eating disorder, he’d at first blown off the suggestion, only to discover the school nurse was a much better diagnostician than he was.

  He glanced over at the kid asleep in the bed, realized he really wasn’t much of a kid anymore. In a little over three months he’d be eighteen, and a month after that, he’d graduate from high school. Had he taken his SATs? Had he applied to any colleges? Good grief, Richard didn’t have a clue, and the weight of guilt grew heavier still.

  His mother was a whore!

  Cathy had lived on her own since she’d taken her first job after graduating from nursing school, some eight years before. Richard didn’t know anyone his age that still lived “at home.” Would he have still been living there if Jeff hadn’t entered his life?

  The answer was probably, and that didn’t make him feel much better. Again, it had been convenience. He’d pretty much come and gone as he’d pleased since college, didn’t worry about money—not that he needed to—and he didn’t have to worry about maintaining a home. It pleased his grandparents to have him still living with them, but he realized their pleasure had come at a heavy price.

  And yet—what was the alternative? Get a condo and take Jeff with him? Richard had stayed despite the drawbacks because he’d hoped a household of people would give the kid a sense of stability.

  He’d been wrong. And yet … he didn’t see how it could change. Not overnight. Not without a dialogue with Jeff—and when was that likely to happen? In three years he’d been unable to bond with the kid.

  Jeff tossed his head, restless in sleep.

  Richard knew he’d mourn Cathy’s loss, someone he’d known for only six months. It was disquieting to realize he’d more easily tapped into her soul than that of his own brother. He’d failed Jeff. Was there still time to repair the damage?

  If nothing else, he knew he had to try.

  #

  Jeff awoke with a start. Someone was touching him. He tried to pull his arm away, but the person wouldn’t let go. He opened his eyes, but had to squint at the fluorescent glow from a light on the wall behind him. Finally, the woman let go of his wrist and placed a BP cuff on his bicep, pumping it up until the pressure was painful.

  “Stop!” he said, his voice sounding raspy, but she continued with her task.

  He looked away and saw Richard, his head propped on his clenched fist, asleep in a chair close by his bed.

  What the hell?

  The cuff came off and the woman packed up her gear and trundled out the door—leaving the light on. Her exit woke Richard. He sat up straight, blinking, looking dazed. “You’re awake. How do you feel?” he mumbled.

  Jeff sank deeper against the hard pillow beneath his head. “Rotten. What happened?”

  “Appendicitis. But you’ll be okay in a few days.”

  “When can I get out of here?”

  “In a few days,” Richard reiterated.

  Days?

  From the other side of the curtain dividing the small room came the sound of heavy snoring. How much worse could this get?

  “I need to go to school. I can’t afford to fall behind. The developer in the photo lab has to be changed—”

  “I’ll ask Curtis to get your homework assignments.”

  Rotten as he felt, Jeff couldn’t help but think, God forbid you should do it yourself.

  “Don’t you need to go to work or something?” Jeff asked, hoping Richard would take the hint and leave.

  Richard glanced at his watch. “I’ve still got an hour.”

  Jeff closed his eyes and must have fallen asleep, because when he awoke, gray light filtered through the window to his left and the snoring had stopped. A young black woman appeared from behind the curtain. She moved the overbed table closer and set the food tray on it. “Have a nice breakfast,” she said cheerfully before disappearing.

  Jeff looked down at the tray; green Jell-O, yogurt, and a can of ginger ale—not his idea of a good breakfast. Before he could pop the can’s tab, another woman appeared. “Gotta take your vitals,” she said.

  If he’d had an appetite—which he didn’t—he’d have lost it. How long was he going to have to endure this crap?

  She went to work, first sticking a thermometer under his tongue. “As soon as a private room opens, they’re going to move you.”

  “Private room?” he managed around the glass tube in his mouth. “Who’s paying for that?”

  “Insurance. You must have really good insurance.”

  She pulled the thermometer out of his mouth, consulted it, and wr
ote down the results.

  Richard must have paid for that. Not much he could have done to avoid that, and he certainly wasn’t going to bring it up.

  The person behind the curtain let loose with a loud fart, and the tech at Jeff’s elbow giggled. “You won’t have to put up with that,” she whispered as a noxious cloud penetrated the thin barrier.

  Jeff looked away, his gaze settling on the gray morning out the window and let the woman do her job, willing himself to heal quickly so he could get the hell out of there.

  #

  With his shift finally over, Richard stepped off the elevator and made his way to the hospital’s lobby where he saw a nervous-looking Curtis standing to one side, clutching a bulky bag and staying out of the flow of visitor traffic. He’d lost his wife of over forty years in this hospital and Richard suspected he viewed the place as somewhere people came to die.

  “Curtis,” he called, and the old man looked up gratefully. “Sorry I’m late. I had a problem with a patient.”

  “It’s okay, sir. I know you’re a busy man.”

  “I really appreciate everything you’ve done today. I couldn’t have managed without you.”

  “Mr. Alpert gave me permission to run your errands, sir. He said he’d find his way home from the office.”

  “I’m sure the junior associates fell all over themselves to offer him a ride home.” Richard’s grandfather hadn’t handled a case in years, and he’d long suspected the old man only went to the office to do the crossword and take a break from spending time with his wife three times a week.

  “Do you want to come up and say hello? I’m sure Jeff would much prefer your company to mine.”

  A look of panic spread across Curtis’s features. “Uh, sure,” he said.

  “Let me take that bag,” Richard said and nearly staggered under the weight of textbooks. Curtis picked up a smaller bag that sat on the floor. He led the way to the elevator.

  “How is the boy?” Curtis asked, looking around nervously.

  “Okay. By now he’s probably pretty bored, although he’s got a TV to keep him company.”

  Several other visitors crowded into the elevator along with them. Moments later, they stepped out on the third floor and Richard led the way. “Right here,” he said. “Why don’t you go in first?”

  Curtis struggled to keep a grimace off his face, but swallowed and plunged forward. “Jeffrey?”

  Jeff looked up at the sound, muting the TV, which was already barely audible. “Curtis!” he said with obvious pleasure, but the delight left his eyes when he saw Richard bringing up the rear.

  “How are you feeling?” Curtis asked, setting down the plastic bag he carried.

  “Better, but tired. Like someone beat me up.”

  Curtis nodded but then looked at Richard as though for some conversational help.

  Richard stepped forward, setting the bag of books on the bedside table. “Curtis went to your school to pick up your books and homework assignments.”

  “Thanks, Curtis.”

  “It was Mr. Richard who arranged it.”

  Jeff shot Richard a skeptical glance.

  “Uh, how’s the grub?” Curtis asked.

  “Terrible. Jell-O, lumpy mashed potatoes, and meatloaf made of canned dog food.”

  They all looked at each other for an uncomfortable minute or so.

  “Well, I best be going,” Curtis said, fracturing the tension.

  “Already?” Jeff asked, obviously disappointed.

  “’Fraid so. But I’ll see you soon.” He nodded a quick good-bye in Richard’s direction and hightailed it out of the room.

  The brothers looked after him for a long while before they faced one another. Jeff was the first to speak. “How come you called school?”

  “You said you didn’t want to fall behind. Speaking of which, we should talk about college.”

  “What for?”

  “Because I’d like you to go.”

  Jeff shrugged.

  “What does that mean?” Richard asked.

  “I’m not going right away, but I need to keep my grades up for a good transcript.”

  “Why wouldn’t you go next September? You’ve got the grades.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have the money; and thanks to my address, I don’t qualify for scholarships,” he said bitterly.

  Living on LeBrun Road had done the kid no favors, Richard realized, and that counted in all aspects of his life. “You know I’d be happy to—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Jeff said, shifting his gaze back to the silent television.

  That’s right. He never wanted to talk about anything, and who could blame him? Although on several occasions when Richard had brought Cathy to the house, she’d been able to get the kid to say more than a couple of sentences, and had even coaxed a shy smile or two from him. She was good with kids—even ones just a heartbeat from manhood. Not for the first time, Richard envied her.

  “Do you play chess?” he asked.

  Jeff tore his gaze from the screen. “Chess?”

  “You know; kings, queens, bishops, knights, and pawns.”

  “Of course I know how to play chess. I learned in grade school.”

  Richard retrieved the plastic bag Curtis had left behind and removed a boxed game still covered in cellophane. He unwrapped it, placing the board on the overbed table and setting up the pieces. Then he grabbed a black and a white pawn, put them behind his back and mixed them up. Presenting his clenched fists, he asked, “Right or left?”

  Jeff eyed him, his expression guarded. “Left.”

  Richard presented the piece: white.

  Jeff almost smiled.

  #

  The radio was silent as Richard drove home from the hospital. He had too much to think about and didn’t need the distraction of music or idle chitchat. Although he’d been kept busy during the day, he’d still had far too much time to ponder the situation back at the house. Situations, he corrected himself. He’d have preferred to concentrate on Jeff’s announcement about college, but the scene the night before kept playing through his mind. He had a decision to make that affected them both; to stay at the Alpert family home or to finally get the hell out. He knew what he preferred to do, but the ramifications were wide reaching. If only Cathy hadn’t already sublet her apartment he would have had a place for both of them to stay, although getting Jeff to school would have been difficult but doable.

  Few lights burned within the house as Richard pulled up the driveway. He parked in the garage and trudged across to the house. After hanging up his jacket, he crossed the darkened kitchen and inspected the fridge’s contents. Nothing appealed to him and instead he made himself a drink by the light over the stove, intending to take it upstairs to his room. But as he approached the foyer and the home’s grand stairway, he saw a light burning in his grandfather’s study down the hall and made a detour.

  Richard’s grandfather sat huddled in the big leather chair behind the antique mahogany desk, looking old and frail. He cleared his throat, and the old man looked up.

  “May I join you?”

  The old man held out a hand, gesturing for him to sit. “Please do.”

  Richard entered his grandfather’s sanctuary, plunked down on the wing chair before the desk, and took a sip of his Scotch.

  “You didn’t call to let us know how the boy is.”

  “His name is Jeff,” Richard reminded the old man.

  “Yes, so it is.”

  “The surgery went well. He’ll be okay.”

  The old man nodded. His gaze dipped to the blotter before him. What looked like an untouched glass of Scotch sat before him. “About what happened last night…” he began, but then seemed to run out of words.

  “I’m grateful Jeff didn’t hear what Grandmother had to say, but unfortunately I did. She seems to have forgotten that we had the same mother. And her accusations were equally out of line.”

  “I’ve spoken to her about it and asked her to
apologize to you both, but you know how stubborn she can be.”

  “Yes, I do. I’ve spent a good part of the day rethinking my living situation—Jeff’s and my living situation.”

  “You’re not thinking of leaving again, are you?” the old man asked, sounding panicked. Was that because he’d miss Richard or be stuck with only his wife for company?

  “You have to agree, it’s long past time.”

  The old man sighed and nodded. “Your father left us when he was twenty-five. He never lived to see thirty.”

  Richard had heard this story too many times, usually from his grandmother, and always presented as a guilt trip. “I’m not your son. I tried hard to take his place, but I was always Betty O’Connor’s child, too.”

  The old man nodded solemnly. “The anniversary of her death is coming up. I think I’d like to put some flowers on her grave. It wouldn’t change the past, but it’s the only way I can think of to offer her an apology.”

  Too little and too late, Richard thought, but he said, “I think that would be nice.”

  “Just don’t tell your grandmother,” the old man warned.

  Richard sipped his Scotch and managed a wan smile. “I won’t.”

  The old man seemed to shrink even further. “Where will you go?” he asked with defeat.

  Richard shrugged. “I don’t know. I have Jeff to consider—something I haven’t done enough of these past few years. He’ll be out of school come June, and I have between now and then to convince him to go to college. I don’t want him making some foolish choice he’ll regret.”

  “Why wouldn’t he go to college?”

  “He wants to go—he just won’t let me pay for it.”

  The old man shook his head. “That’s just stubborn foolish pride.”

  “Sometimes I think that’s all he’s got.”

  Again the old man nodded. They sat there in silence for several minutes before the old man broke the quiet. “You’re right. You should have left us a long time ago.” He shook his head. “I was on my own at sixteen. I put myself through college and law school and finally got a good job. And then I had the misfortune to meet and marry the boss’s daughter. If I could do it all again…” he said, but then didn’t finish the sentence.