His mother hadn’t told him much. Hollis wasn’t saying a lot either, which was unusual. The television set was off, to keep him from getting too excited, and the lights were low. He hadn’t had a roommate in a week and a half, and a plastic curtain hung over the door that Hollis cursed at every time she came through with more juice, more fluid. She wanted him drinking all the time, to keep his mouth wet. Soothed, she said. And he peed into a plastic bottle with a long snout, so he didn’t tangle the tubes on his IV trying to get to the bathroom. Every time he peed, Hollis gave the plastic snout bottle a shake and looked carefully before she dumped it in the toilet.
Hollis elbowed back the plastic curtain to get into the room. Idiots, she said. She had a nice apricot nectar in a blue cup with a straw. Now his mother was tired and quiet all the time. Hollis said today his mother had a cold. She put the nectar down on the bedside table and checked the line. Any burning feeling? Always that question. It was all she talked about. Any burn, how’s his mouth, did he feel any pinch in his stomach. His mother had a cough so she couldn’t come. But his grandmother would, in the afternoon, she would come to see Bo.
Yesterday someone brought Bo mashed carrots by mistake and he threw up all over his blanket. Hollis had an argument with the orderly and then with the doctor. She brought him something warm and chocolate, like melted brown chalk. Very sweet. This and the sugar IV kept him from getting the black-over in his eyes. He missed his mother. Every day his nose bled.
Hollis said what would happen would be very easy. It was just an IV, like all the rest. People were acting like idiots. Hollis told him that his father’s blood stems would grow like flowers in Bo’s bones and replace the cells that weren’t working so well. He missed his father. It will be like your father’s strength going into you. You’ll feel better. Not so tired. When would that happen? Three more days, said Hollis.
This was the last day of chemotherapy, more in volume these last four days than Bo had seen in half a year. It made Hollis angry. It was frightening and dangerous, she thought. She was angry all the time now. She had to be careful what she said in front of Bo. I need to watch my stupid mouth, she said. Bo said that Hollis was smart. Tomorrow head-to-toe radiation. And the day after. Then his body would rest. Then his father’s bone stems could be planted.
And then?
Then we watch you, my angel. That’s the nice part. We just watch you get stronger and better. And then Hollis looked angry again. I need a vacation. I know, said Bo. Because Bo was tired too, tired of the whole day, and wished for a moment he was in his room with his boats. All the models were lined up on the blue painted shelf. And he fell asleep telling Lou-Lou not to touch anything because the decals and the glue were still drying. She would wreck everything. Hollis said, All right, I won’t. And she kissed his foot through the new blanket, though it was strictly not allowed. Even Bo knew that. Lou-Lou’s hand was almost touching the best boat, wrecking it, but then she heard him say Stop, and she said Okay, and she drew it away.