The sound of the footsteps in the hall were soft; rubber soled nurse’s shoes made a soft padding sound against the smooth tile floor. It was three AM and here, five stories removed from the brightness and noise of the emergency room, you could pretend the hospital was quiet. Somewhere, surgeons were working to save Isaac’s life. Somewhere, Nora was curled in a chair in a narrow waiting room, her face buried in her arms as she prayed, her body tense against the news she knew in her heart she was probably about to hear. Dan wished he could be with her, but someone had had to stay with Taylor and Zac, and they’d decided it would probably be better if it were him. To tell the truth, Dan preferred this; the waiting would have killed him.
Dan looked at his watch. Every hour or so, the doctor had told him, he should wake Taylor up, to be sure he wasn’t slipping into a kind of comatose state. They didn’t think he would, but vigilance couldn’t hurt. And that was what he was doing, Dan thought; keeping vigil.
Zac was curled in the other bed; they’d had to sedate him before they could set his shoulder. His arm was splinted and bandaged, but he was too deeply asleep to feel anything.
If only there was some way to pretend this had never happened, Dan thought. If there was only some magic wand he could wave to make things better.
There wasn’t, though, and Dan didn’t want to think about what the reparations of this night would be. He didn’t want to ask himself whether he thought Isaac was going to live or not; he was too worried to admit to himself that the odds probably weren’t good. He didn’t know what he should be doing; he knew there wasn’t anything he could say that would make this go away. He didn’t even know if he could make it any easier.
Taylor stirred, shifting position. He opened his eyes suddenly, startled to be alone in the bed. For a moment, he glanced from side to side, unsure of where he was. When he saw Dan, he seemed to sink back into himself, biting his lip.
“Are you okay?” Dan asked him.
Taylor struggled to keep his voice from quavering. “I thought that maybe I dreamed it.”
Dan reached out and lifted Taylor out of the bed, blankets and all. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Taylor.”
Taylor squeezed his eyes shut; he didn’t want to cry. “Is he going to be okay?” he asked Dan.
Dan didn’t stop to think before he answered. “Yeah, buddy. He’ll be okay.”
Taylor fingered the bandage that was wrapped around the burn on his arm. It was a white gauze bandage, tight enough to stay put but loose enough not to restrict circulation. Taylor had forgotten he was wearing it. “What’s going to happen next?”
Dan shook his head. It was only when you actually grew up that you realized grown-ups, on a lot of occasions, were just as clueless as six year olds. “Well,” he said, “I guess you and Zac will probably come and stay with me and Nora for awhile, the way you did before.”
“What about Ike?” Taylor asked.
Dan swallowed. “Tay. . . he’ll probably have to stay in the hospital for awhile.”
“To get fixed?” Taylor whispered.
“Yeah,” Dan nodded.
“And then will he come and stay with you and Nora, too?” Taylor asked.
“I hope so,” Dan said. “But it might take awhile for him to get better, and by the time he does, maybe the social worker will have found a better place for you guys to live.”
Taylor stiffened. “Not with mommy!”
“No.” Dan shook his head. “Not with your mommy.”
Taylor took a deep breath. “Is my mommy bad?”
Dan bit his lip. “She did something bad.” Worse than bad, he thought. What Kathleen had done was virtually unforgivable. “And I think that. . . because of that. . . you guys probably won’t go back to live with her ever again.”
“Ever again?” Taylor breathed.
Dan shook his head solemnly. “No, buddy. Not ever again.”
Taylor sighed. “Are they going to put her in the ‘lectric chair?”
I wish they would, Dan thought. Out loud, he said, “No, they won’t do that.”
“I think they should get a knife and stick her,” Taylor said. “Like she did to Ike.”
I think they should, too! Dan wanted to exclaim. Instead, he sighed. “I don’t really know what’s going to happy to her, but it isn’t safe for you guys to stay with her, because she’s doing things that are very dangerous, and she’s hurting you guys.”
Taylor nodded. “It’s all the drugs,” he supplied.
Dan looked directly into Taylor’s eyes. “How long has she been using drugs again?” he asked.
Taylor swallowed. “A long time. Since at least before Halloween.”
This was shocking to Dan; he couldn’t believe none of them had told him. He knew he shouldn’t let it hurt his feelings, but it did. . . the realization that they hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him was crushing. Dan took a deep breath. “You guys didn’t say anything about it,” he remarked, trying to sound nonchalant. There was no accusation in his voice; he just wanted to know why. “You could have told me or Nora. . . we would have tried to help you.”
A tear trickled down Taylor’s cheek. “I wish we did say something about it,” he quavered. “Ike told us they’d split us up, probably, if we told. And Mommy would go back to jail.”
Dan rubbed his back. They rocked back and forth in the chair, both of them wishing this wasn’t happening, that they didn’t have to be here. Outside, approaching footsteps grew louder, then faded. Part of Dan wished that this whole situation was over and done with, that he already knew what had happened, whatever the outcome. It was the waiting that was the hardest part, the not knowing. Five hours ago, Dan had no idea what direction his life was going to take. In five more hours, he might know.
Nora opened her eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep, but she must have. She blinked a few times, her foggy contacts plastered against her eyes as if they’d been cemented there.
The clock on the wall read three fifteen. Isaac had been in surgery for two hours; she didn’t know how much longer it would take. Nora sighed, trying to focus her attention on the shiny, brightly-colored pages of the women’s magazine she’d lifted off of the table in front of her. She thumbed through aging editions of Guideposts and a few ancient Reader’s Digests. Nothing could divert her attention for more than a few seconds; she was too tired and her worry too all-encompassing.
The nurse padded silently toward the door, her features etched with exhaustion but the expression in her eyes soft, friendly and concerned. She had something terrible to say, and she didn‘t want to say it. “Dr. Conway?”
Nora nodded, trying to find her voice. “How is he?” she managed, rising to her feet.
The nurse made her way to the chair opposite from Nora’s, sinking into it carefully. “I think you might want to sit down,” she suggested, quietly.
Nora felt as if the bottom had dropped out of her world. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t even cry. It had happened. They’d lost him.
“First, I should tell you that everything was done,” the nurse began, “to supplement his blood level. But the surgery couldn’t wait, you know that, and he wasn’t as stable as we thought.”
“Oh my God,” Nora murmured.
“He went into cardiac arrest about five minutes ago,” the nurse said. “We revived him, but. . . things don’t look good.”
“He’s alive?” Nora breathed.
The nurse nodded. “He’s alive.”
“Oh, God,” Nora whispered. “Thank God.”
“I’m sorry that I scared you,” the nurse apologized. “He is alive. I just thought I should tell you what had happened. . . so you would be aware of it,” she finished. “I noticed before that you were praying. I thought that maybe you would. . . this might be something. . .” she blushed.
Nora nodded, understanding. “Thank you,” she said.
The nurse leaned forward, nodding. “I don’t know how to say this,” she began. “I mean, I don’t want it to sound weird or anything. . .” She took a deep breath. “But I have a good feeling about him.”
“A good feeling?” Nora asked, puzzled.
“I think he’ll pull through,” the nurse said. “I don’t know why. . . I mean, he’s really badly injured. . . but I think he’s going to make it.”
“He’s a fighter,” Nora observed, but she couldn’t think about Isaac very long without wanting to cry.
“He is,” the nurse agreed. “And that’s definitely a big part of the battle.”
“Dan?” Zac’s eyelids fluttered open; he winced against the pain that shot through his arm as he tried to sit up. “Ow. . .”
Dan awoke, startled. “Hey,” he whispered.
“Hey,” Zac whispered back.
“How’s your shoulder?” Dan asked him.
“It doesn’t hurt as much,” Zac told him. “But it still hurts, kinda.” He raised an eyebrow. “How come Tay is sleeping on you?”
“We were talking,” Dan told him. “I guess we must have fallen asleep.”
“Oh.” Zac blinked. “I’m all by myself.”
Dan hid a smile. “You are.”
“Wouldn’t you rather sleep in a bed than a chair?”
“A bed would probably be more comfortable,” Dan agreed.
Zac bit his lip. “There’s lots of room in this bed. Over here. The one I’m sleeping in.”
Dan smiled, gently. “Are you hinting at something?”
“I’ll come over there, if you want,” Zac offered. He had a headache from the medication they’d given him and was more tired than he’d ever been in his life, but he’d get across the room somehow.
Dan stood up slowly, to keep from waking up Taylor. “I’ll come over there, buddy,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Thanks, Dan.” Zac slid over on to the other side of the bed to make room. “I didn’t want to be alone.”
Dan put an arm around him. “It’s been a hard night.”
The morning sun bathed the room in a light that grew brighter by the minute; it was going to be a beautiful day. Taylor opened his eyes to find himself curled underneath Dan’s arm. He didn’t know how he’d gotten there, but he was glad to be where he was. He closed his eyes again, and that was all he knew for awhile.