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Sunday, December 7, 2014

Failings of the Fathers: 39

Aiden was helped onto a gurney by two orderlies, and made his typical cracks all the way.  "Ya might want to watch out for this little lady here, she gets awful grabby."

Tina was beside herself.  She cried, silently, but her face was red and wet, and her eyes were already swelling and crimsoned.  Timothy had his hand on her back, and the other on his son's arm.  Malcolm, who had run to get help when he realized what had happened, was standing off in the distance.  


"Where's Malcolm?"  Aiden asked aloud, and Malcolm stepped forward.  It was close to midnight, and everyone seemed shaken and tired.


"Yes, I'm here."


"Thank ya, for sticking around for the likes of me."


"Don't mention it.  Nothing much else to do."  His throat worked.


Tina swallowed, and had to look away.  I was wrong.  I know I was.  Her tears continued to stream.


In a few moments, Aiden was in his room again, being attended to by various doctors, including the head neurosurgeon, Dr. Vigo.  Aiden said, "Doc, ya must tell me the truth.  Will I be seeing y'ar face again?"


"Eric, please lie back and let us work.  It would be easier if you were not talking," Dr. Vigo said.


"Fine," he said, but he did not want to be quiet.  If he was quiet, he thought all too much.  He gave into his fear, his loneliness, and that was why he loved telling stories and chattering.


***


Sister Rebecca Katherine returned from dinner, and opened her door, and what was there astounded her.  A small drawing, that she could barely make out without her glasses, was on the floor, having been slid under her door.  She rushed to her desk, retrieved her reading glasses, and threw them on.  There in her hand was a small drawing, very simply sketched, of Little Ray Manning.  Or, at least she thought it was him.  He was wearing a one piece shorts overall jumpsuit with stripes.  She didn't recognize it, but his smile was unmistakable, the same smile as Todd.


Her hands shook, and she raced to Dr. Martino's office.  He was just closing up for the night, and said, "Sister, what's up?"


"Dr. Martino, Ray, I found this slid under my door!  It almost flipped me knickers!"


He looked at it carefully, and then said, "Sister.  Bea?"


"I believe so, yes."


"Let's go then, Sister.  Maybe that incident with Todd was actually more of a push in the right direction than we thought," he said, heading out, and the nun almost lost her veil trying to keep up with him.


They hurried to Bea's door, and when they opened it, they both stopped and froze.  She was in the chair, facing the window, staring out.  It was as if she never moved.  He said, "My God."


"Jesus, Mary and Joseph.  What does this mean, Dear Lord, I need Ya?"


"It means . . . well I don't really know what it means, actually," Ray said.  He looked at the drawing again.  He turned it over and there was small writing on the back.  "Sister?"  he said, and handed it to her.


She pulled her glasses back down.  "Oh my," she said, and both of them turned to Bea.


The writing said:  I couldn't save my baby.  Who will save Todd's?

***


The doctors, in their haste, had pushed Tina, Timothy and Malcolm into the hallway.  Tina was shaking, and Timothy put his arms around her to comfort her.  "Ay, Dear Lady, easy now."


"Oh my God, what's wrong with him?"


"Shhh, now, that won't help ya."


Malcolm walked from them and sat on a chair in a set of four along the wall.  He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. 


Timothy could see him, over Tina's head.  I'm lonely.  I lost everything.  He and Aiden had bonded over loss.  Timothy hadn't even been able to see that.  


The doctor pushed open the door, and stepped into the hall, facing them, which meant Malcolm was a ways behind.  He said, "Your son is . . . not well, Mr. Broderick."


Tina almost collapsed to the floor, at which point, Dr. Vigo and Timothy both held her under an arm, and moved her to the chairs where Malcolm was sitting.  Malcolm was stoic; he was silent with his face fixed strong and his jaw moving.  The doctor said, "From what we can ascertain, it's a cerebral hemorrhage.  His brain is bleeding."


"What does that mean?"  Tina's voice squeaked out, small and shaken.


"It can mean a great deal of things," Dr. Vigo began.


Timothy felt his voice croak, "Like?"


"Possible complications include stroke, loss of brain function, or . . . death is possible, and may quickly occur despite prompt medical attention.  These things I must tell you, to be fair.  Anything can happen. We're hoping to stop the bleeding with proper treatment, and help him recover."


"Oh, no," Tina leaned over, and Malcom, beside himself with sadness, took her into his arms.


"What is the treatment, Doctor?  He has a brother in the states, who can pay for anything he needs.  The cost is of no concern."


"We will start with medication and hope that the bleeding subsides and the swelling does not increase.  We will use corticosteroids for this.  Also, we have to watch for seizures.  This is all we can do.  If it works, then fine.  Otherwise, we must do surgery."


"I see," Timothy said, and swallowed.  He couldn't help but think of how short a time it had been since he discovered his son again, and now . . .


"Can I see him?  Please?"  Tina said, meekly.


"Yes.  He's awake.  The blindness is from swelling in a particular area of the brain."


"Is that reversible?"  Malcolm asked.


"Possibly," Dr. Vigo said, and Tina got up and went in.


"Aiden," she said, softly.


"Yes, My Tina?"


She walked closer and took his hand.  "I'm right here."


"I know.  I can smell y'ar perfume.  My favorite scent."


"Oh, it's something I've worn since I was younger.  Back a ways, I guess," she sniffed.


He found his way to the side of her head with his hand.  "Don't ya cry, not for me, ya hear?"


"I'm not," she said, clearly stuffed up and sobbing.


"Ya are, and ya have to stop that."


"I will."


"I have to tell ya something."


"No," she said.  She didn't want to hear.


"Yes.  I have to tell ya that, this, what we have, this was more than I ever had with anyone in my life, and was the happiest time for me that I can remember.  Ever, Tina."


She stopped crying, and realized that he needed her more than she needed her own sadness.  She said, "This has been wonderful for me too, but of course, it's not over."


She sounded as if she were plugging her nose, and he said, "Y'ar sad.  I don't want that for ya."


"I don't either, for you."


"I wanted to do so many things," he said, his voice breaking a little.


"What?  What things did you want to do, Aiden?"


"Be married.  Have a family.  Of my own.  I've done all the adventures, and wild things.  That is what I wanted, most."  He closed his eyes and she saw that tears were falling from their sides.


"You will have all that.  You will."


"I don't think I will," he said, and she knew he could be right.


"You will," she repeated.


***


"Hey, Old Man, what's going on?"  Todd said, after seeing Timothy's number flashing.  Then, he stopped short, realizing it was well after midnight in Switzerland.  "Wait, it's late there. . ."


"Todd,"


"No.  Don't do this Old Man, not now."


"Todd, it's y'ar brotha."


He handed the phone to Blair and got up off the couch, grabbing his jacket and walking out onto the balcony.  "Dad?  What is it?"  Blair said.


"It's Aiden.  He's . . . not well, Bridgette.  He may die."


She was still nursing, and sitting on the couch by the fire in the bedroom, and wanted badly to go to her husband, but was constrained by the baby and the phone.  She said, "My God, what happened?"


"He just fell.  His brain was bleeding.  He is blind."


She choked back tears.  "I'm sorry.  My God."


"I wanted Todd to know."


"He has to come there, right away."


"Yes, I was hoping he could."


"He will, I am sure.  I'll speak to you later, Dad, I have to put Jewel down so I can go to him.  He ran outside, all right?"


"Yes.  Let me know he is all right, Bridgette."


She hung up, and with good fortune, the baby had just unlatched and fallen asleep.  Blair put her into the basket, and called for Jack.  "I'm sorry, Jack, but your father needs me," she said, handing the basket off to him.


"No problem, she's cool peeps.  But, what's the matter with Dad, Mom?"  His face looked grave for a moment.


"It's. . . I'll fill you in later, just let me go to him.  Take her into your room."


Jack did as he was asked, though he wanted to know right then.  He brought the baby to his room, and Sam saw him go by.  "Can I play with her?"


"Sure, just be nice."


"I will.  Where's Mom?"


"She and Dad went for a walk."


"Oh.  Cool.  I guess.  Isn't it kinda late?"


"Just play with Jewel, Squirt."


***


He was standing at the edge of the balcony, looking over his yard, the place he loved and built for them.  She came up behind him and put her arms across his chest from behind, and hugged him to her.  "You have to go."


"Is . . . is he dead, Blair?


"No."  She felt his body relax.


"Are you going to be okay with all these kids, if I go?"


"Of course.  I have help."


"I'll make Shaun move into the house.  He'll stay in Momma's room."


"He'll like that, it's pink," she said.


"I just, right now . . ."


"I'll take care of your babies, Todd, and your mother.  I will.  I'll go and see her."


He turned to her.  "You know, way back in Key West when I married you, I never really got that better or worse stuff.  Did you?"


"Back then?  No way."


"Well, now I do.  I really do."


"I really do, too."  She said, and kissed him.  "Now, go and get ready.  We'll be fine."


"I love you, all of you, you know that."


"Of course I do."  She watched him head back into the house and followed.


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