Jake walked warily up the steps from the church basement, Matthew right on his heels. Jake looked right and saw a swirling circus of people farther down Spring Garden Road. He scanned Robie Street and saw that the coast was clear. He headed down the street toward University Avenue.
Once at the intersection of Robie and University, they had to wait — the light was red. Jake kept looking all around, hoping they hadn’t been followed. So far, so good.
The light changed, and he and Matthew walked the few blocks to the children’s hospital. As they neared the building, Jake sped up. Concern for his son suddenly blocked his anxiety about being followed. He crossed in front of the new parkade and was about to turn into the hospital when he stopped and looked back. Matthew had fallen behind.
“C’mon, buddy,” he called in what he hoped was a friendly tone. “We’re almost there. Just a little further.”
Matthew didn’t respond or change his pace. He trotted up to Jake and slowed. Jake looked down at the boy and shook his head. He couldn’t believe the enormous controversy being stirred up over this child. How could any of it be true?
He headed up the pathway to the entrance of the hospital. Matthew followed behind.
They went in and Jake led Matthew quickly through the lobby to the elevators. There was one standing open, so Jake stepped in, Matthew right on his heels. Jake pressed three. When the doors opened, he saw a sign: Pathology and Laboratory Medicine / Day Surgery.
He followed the purple trains to the nursing station. As he and Matthew approached, a nurse looked up, then came down the hall to meet them.
Jake immediately recognized her. “Jenna?” he asked, surprised.
“Hi, Jake,” she said quietly.
“I didn’t know you were working here.”
“Yeah.” She noticed Matthew. “Who’s this?”
“You’d never believe me. A mutual friend asked me to look after him for a while.”
“A mutual friend?”
“Listen, I’ll tell you later. Right now I need to know about Wyatt. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry,” Jenna said quickly. “Of course. Follow me.” She headed down the corridor, Jake beside her and Matthew right behind him. “There’ve been some complications,” Jenna continued. “Your wife’s in the waiting area and could use your support.” She stopped at the waiting room door and motioned Jake and Matthew in. “I’ll be at the nursing station if you need anything,” she said to Jake. “The doctor will be with you in a couple of minutes.”
Jake thanked her and went to his wife. “Abby?” he said gently. The room contained uncomfortable-looking vinyl chairs, a few tables, and a small play area in one corner.
Abby was pacing. She paused and turned to him, her face red from crying.
“Wyatt’s in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” He put a hand on her shoulder.
“Oh, Jake,” she said, tears welling. “They haven’t told me. He went into surgery early, and they said there were complications. They haven’t told me anything else.” She collapsed against him.
He wrapped his arms around her. “It’ll be okay. Wyatt’s a strong guy.”
“Wyatt,” a voice said softly.
Abby leaned a few inches away from Jake. She looked around the waiting room. Except for Matthew, they were alone. “Who’s this?” she asked through her tears.
Jake hesitated. He couldn’t even think of a short version to tell her. He took a deep breath. “It’s —”
“Mr. and Mrs. Tunnel.” Dr. Merrot, the pediatric neurologist, stood in the doorway. He was wearing his surgical scrubs, mask pulled down, cap in his hands.
“Oh no,” Abby cried after one look at the doctor’s solemn face. She held onto Jake. “Tell me he’s okay. Please tell me he’s okay!”
The doctor’s expression didn’t change, which was more answer than they wanted. “I’m going to ask you to come see your son. Wyatt’s resting right now. We’ve done all we can.”
“All you can? What does that mean?” Jake asked.
“There was a bleed. That, combined with the actual location of the tumor — there wasn’t any way we could —”
“What are you saying?” Jake demanded.
“I wish I could tell you something different, but Wyatt’s awake right now, and I think you should see him.”
“You want us to say goodbye to him!” Abby started to sob. “He’s too young. This isn’t right.”
“Goddamn it,” Jake said. “There must be something you can do! Should we get another doctor?”
“Please,” Dr. Merrot said. “It would be good if you could be strong for Wyatt. He needs to see you right away.”
Jake held his wife close as she sobbed. They had to keep it together. It wouldn’t help Wyatt to see them like this. “Come on,” he urged. “We need to go.”
Abby took in deep breaths, holding them, as she walked toward their son’s room. Jake knew she could compose herself in the short trip down the hall — and she did. He handed her his handkerchief, then wiped the tears from his face, before the doctor led them into the room.