Any Moment Now

 

 

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Mac went into cardiac arrest.

A rush of doctors and nurses managed to revive him, but Mac’s condition was now beyond critical. Grave is the word Dr. Myles used, which basically meant it was just about time to start digging one of those awful things at the nearest cemetery. No matter what anyone did, all the prayers we prayed, that amazing eight-year-old boy was getting worse every minute.

When things quieted down a bit, I went to Mac’s door and peeked through a window with my glasses. It was stunning how much was going on, most of which no one else but me could see.

Ginger-bearded Orderly Dude had kept his promise. Mac had the magical Hot Wheels race car in his left hand. The brave little car was trying its best to vroom-vroom, but it just didn’t have enough power. Its engine and headlights sputtered, like Dad’s old Corvette used to do when the battery wouldn’t hold a charge.

Tabitha sat at Mac’s bedside holding his right hand and praying, and talking to her brother.

It wasn’t enough.

Sandra hovered over Mac’s bed. She touched her baby boy’s face with her ghostly hands, sending him her mother’s love from The Great Beyond.

Even that wasn’t enough. It was like Mac had lost his will to live.

In the hall, Dr. Myles spoke to Howard and Mom in a whisper. He told them there was nothing medical the hospital staff could do for Mac. On an iPad, the doctor showed Howard and my mom Mac’s latest EEG readout. Mac’s brain wave lines should’ve been a bunch of peaks and valleys, but instead they were nearly all straight lines and only a few little bumps. Mac’s brain activity had all but stopped.

“Howard, you need to prepare yourself for what’s coming,” Dr. Myles said. “Mac doesn’t have long. He could leave us at any moment, I’m afraid.”

“Well, I’m not afraid,” Howard said, shaking his head defiantly. “And I don’t give a damn what you think, Dr. Carson, or what the EEG says, either. My son will find his way back. I’m NOT giving up on him!”

Through my glasses I saw Howard’s aura—it was bright, and angry. He wasn’t lying to the surgeon. He truly believed that Mac would wake up and heal. He squeezed Mom’s hand for support. She was now Howard’s lifeline.

Sandra’s ghost suddenly appeared. She turned to me with a fierce look. A ferocious mother bear protecting her cubs kind of gaze.

“I need you to go somewhere, Bertie,” she said. “This instant!”