Sullen
by M. F. LuderPart nine
Seth stares down at his half eaten steak, suddenly not hungry. His stomach seems to be turning and he wonders if he'll get sick again. He hopes not, not with his parents around, not with them here to question why he's feeling so bad.
He doesn't want to talk about this, about the pink elephant that stands in the middle of the room and the three of them, though very aware of it, decide not to speak about it. He checks his watch, 10.49pm, and sighs.
The phone rings and Seth jumps slightly as his mom stands up and walks to the kitchen, to pick up the cordless phone.
"Hello?" Kirsten says into the mouthpiece, looking down at her hands as she sighs. She's tired, exhausted of what's happening to her, to her family. Of them breaking slowly into pieces and there doesn't seem to be anything that can be done to stop it.
"Good night," a woman says on the other side of the phone. "Sanford Cohen?"
"Yes," Kirsten nods, "one moment, please." She turns around, looking at Sandy who picks as his food as much as Seth does. "Sandy," she says, hand on the mouthpiece, "it's for you."
Sandy nods, standing up and walking toward Kirsten. In an impulse, he leans over and kisses her on the lips, softly, tenderly, and he can feel her soft breath against his nose and her trembling lips barely responding under his.
He tries to smile, a sad smile that doesn't reach his eyes, as he takes the phone from her hand. She doesn't walk back to the table but stays there, by his side, as if needing the reassurance that he's here, for her, always. "Yes?"
"Sanford Cohen?"
Sandy nods. "Yes, that's me. Who is this?"
There's a soft sigh on the other side of the line and suddenly, Sandy feels his heart gripping tight, his heartbeat quickening. This isn't the normal phone call to ask if you subscribe to the New York Times or the Wall Street Journal. This is a peculiar call, with a peculiar person on the other side. This is the phone call that can change everything. And Sandy is just beginning to understand it.
"Yes?" He repeats, his voice almost shaking and he swallows.
"Mr. Cohen, I'm sorry to interrupt you at this time of the night."
There's something in her voice, in this woman's voice that's calling almost at eleven at night, breaking up the silence that has taken residence in his house, in his home, when only months ago there used to be laughter and two kids playing in the den.
"No, no..." Sandy's lower lip trembles and he wants her to get on with this, to tell him what she has to tell him. If this is only his imagination, if he's pretending everything can be fixed with just one phone call, then let him get back to his breaking life.
"I'm really sorry," she says again, and he believes her, "but I need to ask you. Do you by any chance know a boy with blond hair and blue eyes?"
Sandy's heart stops and there's a pressure in his chest he can't seem to shake out. He closes his eyes, hand gripping the phone tightly and if his fingers hadn't stop working, he might have let it fall.
God. This is happening.
"Yes," he whispers, the word barely coming out of his lips though he wants to scream, to ask about his son, and it takes him a moment for his lungs to start working once again.
"Sandy?"
Kirsten's touch, her hand on his shoulder, makes him turn around and stare at her. She seems to be shaking, trembling like a leaf in autumn, and his expression must have given him away because she tightens her hold, almost painful now, and looks at him square in the eye.
"Ryan? Is it about Ryan?"
The question brings Seth out of his shell and he looks up as well, fork falling onto the plate with a clinking sound and his son stares at him with bewilderment and hope.
Hope in his brown eyes, hope matching his mother's blue eyes. Hope that hasn't seen this family far too long.
"Yes," he repeats, his voice certain and secure, confident. "Yes," he says once again, "my son. My son. He's seventeen. Blond hair and blue eyes. About 170 pounds, five feet nine. My son. Where's he? Where're you calling from? Who are--?"
There's a long sigh from this woman and Sandy doesn't know her enough to know that's relief flooding into her like waves at having found what she had been looking for. "Mr. Cohen, the boy--"
"His name is Ryan," he says, nodding to himself, his hands cold and shaking, "his name is Ryan. He has blond hair and blue eyes. Where are you? Who--?"
"My name is Andrea Lexington and I'm a nurse in the ICU at Holy Mercy Hospital. A John Doe was admitted here with such description."
Sandy takes large gushes of air, his lungs filling slowly and it's like he can finally breathe. He turns to look at Kirsten who's holding onto his arm, crying softly and quietly by his side. Seth's standing a few feet away, hand gripping the edge of the counter, as if letting go of it might make him lose his balance. Sandy doesn't doubt that.
"You think it might be him?" Sandy shakes his head. What if it isn't Ryan? What if finally breathing in relief is only a lie because the boy they are calling about might not be his Ryan? Sandy doesn't think he could take. "No, no, you have to tell me. Is it him? His name is Ryan A--"
"Sir, I'm sorry, but the boy that was admitted didn't have any ID, only some personal belongings with him."
"What?" Sandy blinks, confused, and his head starts hurting. "What do you mean no ID? Personal belongings? What personal belongings?"
He watches as Kirsten stands up straight and stares at him in the eye. "He had no ID?"
Sandy nods as she asks and as he tells her this, Sandy realizes now why they hadn't been notified before, if this boy really is Ryan. He can almost see realization hit Kirsten through her blue eyes and after a moment, she leans closer to him and she's almost smiling.
"His watch," she says, her voice barely trembling. "His watch. Ask them if he was wearing his watch."
Sandy nods and cuts the nurse in mid sentence. "Was he wearing a watch? Did he have a watch?"
He hears hesitation on the other side of the line. "Hmm... Yes, he had."
"It had an inscription," Sandy says, and he remembers it was Kirsten's idea, and the words were hers as well. "It said We love you on the back, did it--?"
There's shaky sigh. "Mr. Cohen? I think this boy is your son."
Sandy lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and he closes his eyes.
Oh, God.
"Thank you," he whispers, eyes still closed as Kirsten leans against his shoulder. He places one arm around her and he hears her start to cry once again. When he opens his eyes, he repeats, "Thank you."
Turning around, he finds Seth gaze. Brown eyes are waiting for hope to be reassured, for confirmation. Sandy gives him a shaky smile as his eyes start to burn and he nods.
The nod is enough. It brings Seth's world crumbling down though, this time, in a different kind of way. It's like everything is being poured inside out, like an anvil has fallen over him but, somehow, it's exactly what Seth needs.
He takes deep breaths, leaning forward, head down. He can't breathe but his lungs are dying for air. His forehead touches the cool edge of the counter before resting it against his hand. His pulse quickens, but he feels calmer. His stomach swirls around inside, everything coming up to his throat.
He closes his eyes and takes deep breaths. His chest, in between his lungs and ribs supposedly, hurt. It pains him and it feels like a bone has been broken. Maybe this is how relief feels like.
Seth hears his dad's side of the conversation, just a word here and there, and his mother crying by his side.
But it doesn't matter, none of this matters, this pain in his chest, nothing. Because, a minute later his dad hangs up and without saying a word, they walk out of the house and toward the Range Rover, his dad with the car keys in his hand, and Seth feels better with every second that ticks by.
They are going for Ryan, to see him, to find him. They are going for Ryan.
Seth world seems to be right once again.
Andrea stares down at the phone in her hands, dial tone sounding loudly. It takes her a moment to put the phone down on the cradle and sit down. It takes her even longer to process a thought. She might have found the boy's parents. She can only take a step back and flop down on the chair, eyes open, staring ahead.
She doesn't hear the elevator doors opening ten minutes after that, Kerrie walking back to the nurse station. When Kerrie reaches the counter, she tilts her head as she stares at Andrea. "Andrea? You ok?"
Andrea blinks out of her stupor, her eyes moving to Kerrie standing by her side, looking worriedly at her. "Hmm... Yes."
"You sure? You look like you just saw a ghost."
Andrea shakes her head, standing up and running a hand through her hair, trying to push away the lingering feelings of surprise that swirl around her. "No, no, I'm fine."
Kerrie doesn't seem convinced. "You sure?"
With a nod, she turns around and looks at Kerrie. Kerrie waits for Andrea to confess. Andrea swallows."I think I just found the boy's parents."
His dad doesn't say much; neither does his mom. Seth understands. He doesn't want to speak either, but the silence feels heavy and rotting around them. Seth wants to ask about the phone call once again, though his dad has told him twice already, with every single detail he can remember.
The nurse hadn't been certain it was Ryan, but it is. It has to be. His dad said the boy -- Ryan -- had the watch his mom gave Ryan for Chrismukkah. That very cool Omega watch Ryan didn't want to accept at first but after his mom's insistence, Ryan couldn't really say no.
Seth remembers the watch. All silver, big and heavy, not really like the plastic one Ryan used to wear when he arrived. He knows there was something written on the back, there had to be, knowing his mom.
But Ryan had never really let him see. Not that he had refused, but more like Ryan would always wear it. The only time he was close to losing it was when he took it off in that cheap motel when he slept with Theresa.
Oh, and talking about Theresa...
Seth wonders if she's in the hospital as well. Hurt? Maybe, because if she had been awake, why wouldn't she call them? Unless, she isn't there. Unless, Ryan has left Theresa -- finally.
Seth really doesn't know what to think and, whatever he imagines, whatever intrinsic plot he can come up with, he's pretty sure it'll be nothing like the truth. Instead, he closes his eyes and rests his head against the window of the back seat.
He'll control his breathing and keep on clenching and unclenching his hands for as long as it takes them to reach Holy Mercy Hospital.
And then, Seth will see Ryan.
Minutes tick by and finally, not really certain how long it's been since she first walked into the bathroom, she stands up from the toilet. Opening the bathroom stall door, she walks out and toward the sinks. Sarah blinks, confused and tired and stares at her reflection in the small mirror.
She has bags under her eyes and her hands tremble as she turns the spigot, water running down into the sink, the sound filling the otherwise empty room. She thinks of nothing, her mind blank as she notices new wrinkles on her forehead that certainly weren't there a month ago, and around her eyes some more.
It has been so long since the last time she felt this old, her twenty-five years old suddenly feeling like forty-five. With a shake of her head that gets rid of the cobwebs around her mind, she cups her hands under the spray. They keep on trembling, her hands, as she splashes the water on her face.
She knows she can't do anything. Not here, in the bathroom, eyes closed as she washes her face. There's nothing she can do to protect Emma, to help her. The only thing she can do, the only thing Emma asked her to do, was to keep doing her work while Emma was in surgery.
Sarah snorts, looking at her face, water dripping from her cheeks. Like she'll be able to focus. Still, Emma asked her, and Sarah will try.
She sighs, drying her face with paper towels before walking out of the bathroom. She reaches the end of the hall and turns to the left, barely giving the elevator a second glance as the doors slide open and three people, a couple and a young boy, walk out of it and toward the nurse station.
Sarah doesn't see their distraught faces, or the blood shot eyes of the woman. She only walks into 526 and closes the door after her.
Sandy walks, half trotting, down the hallway and past a young girl with black hair toward the nurse station. Seth doesn't say anything, nor Kirsten. Sandy chooses not to break the silence. Finally, at the end of the hall, he sees two women standing behind a counter.
"Excuse me," Sandy says, slightly out of breath, his heart beating rapidly, "I'm looking for Nurse Lexington."
A young woman, in her late twenties probably, takes a step forward and smiles at him. "Mr. Cohen?" She waits for Sandy to nod before continuing. "Nice to meet you. I'm Andrea Lex--"
"I'm sorry, but where's our son?" Sandy swallows thickly, rudeness not part of his nature, but he's at his wit's end at the moment, his hands itching and he only wants to see Ryan, know that he's all right.
Mss. Lexington smiles indulgently, obviously forgiving Sandy's discourtesy. "It's all right Mr. Cohen," she turns to look at Kirsten and Seth standing by his side, "Mrs. Cohen."
The other nurse, a young girl who can't be more than a couple of years older than Seth, bites down her lower lip, her hands clenched in her lap.
Sandy frowns as he looks at her.
"Mr. Cohen?"
Sandy blinks, turning to look at Nurse Lexington and nods. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry. My son. Where's--?"
She doesn't say anything and Sandy only looks at her, his eyes wide, expecting something, anything, as long as something is said. He looks at her and he squeezes Kirsten's hand, his heart doing a funny thing, a somersault kinda thing. He looks over his shoulder at Seth, who seems to have trouble breathing, who appears to be on the verge of passing out.
Seth swallows, ducking his head and staring at his shoes. Movement out of the corner of his eye makes him look up and his dad and mom are walking down the hall, toward a room probably. Seth feels sick once again. Sick to his stomach, in his chest, inside him. Sick all around him and it's like the expectation is killing him. Killing him.
They pause before a room and Seth's gaze flicks up to the number, 524, and he blinks before the nurse, the nice woman with blond hair and green eyes, pushes the door open.
Seth stands there as he hears his mom gasp and his dad let out a long sigh. He stands there, blinking stupidly as his eyes take on the scene before. He stares at Ryan, lying down on the bed, eyes closed. He looks small in between the white sheets and it takes Seth a minute to digest everything around him.
There's a cast on Ryan's left leg, and on his left arm, all the way up to his shoulder blade. He frowns, tilting his head until he realizes those are actually nails coming out of Ryan's legs.
Seth feels sick.
There's another cast on Ryan's right wrist. The left side of his face has shakes of blue and green, and those have to be bruises fading away. Seth hears words around him as his mom starts whimpering softly, hanging onto his dad for dear life. The nurse speaks, but Seth barely hears her.
There are words like no ID and accident. Words like I'm sorry and doctor. He understands some of them, he can comprehend the general meaning of them.
They'll call a doctor, probably to explain Ryan's condition. They'll call a doctor who will tell them why Ryan's eyes are closed and why there are nails coming out of his legs and-- Oh, my God. Is that a tube up Ryan's nose? Seth feels very sick.
His mom plops down in a chair by Ryan's side and she reaches for Ryan's hand.
Seth closes his eyes, leaning back against a wall and pretends not to hear soft crying.
This time, it's not his mom.