A noise sounded against the wall opposite his bed. It came from his mother’s room.
“Sam, are you awake?”
He stirred, rolled over, and lifted his head and checked the time—9:10 a.m. “Shit, I didn’t plan to sleep this long.” He yelled out, “I’m awake now. Give me ten minutes, Mom.”
Sam threw the blankets back, slipped quietly out of his room while pulling a T-shirt over his head, and took the hall to the bathroom two doors down. He’d shower later. A quick splash of cold water to wake up would have to do.
He knocked on Adeline’s bedroom door. “Sorry, Mom. I had a late night. Can I come in?”
“Sure, it’s okay.”
He entered her room and turned the wand on the blinds. “The sun is out today. Let me help you up.”
Sam pushed the wheelchair to the side of the bed as Adeline slid over the best she could. He reached under her armpits and lifted her to the chair. Then he knelt and opened the footrests. He noticed how she felt lighter every time he lifted her. “Comfortable?”
“Thanks, honey, I’m good.”
With a hand on each grip, he pushed the wheelchair to the kitchen table and locked the brakes. “I’ll start the coffee, then I have to check on our newest guests. I won’t be long, though. Want the TV remote?”
“Sure.”
Sam noticed the worried expression on his mother’s face.
“Don’t you think you’re getting in over your head?”
Sam shrugged. “Not sure yet. I’ve never kept anyone alive before. If it doesn’t work, I’ll go back to the way it was. Let me do the worrying, Mom. I’ll figure it out.”
He poured a cup of coffee for Adeline and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back in a half hour, then I’ll start breakfast.” He turned on the TV and set the remote on the table in front of her. “Your morning soap is about to begin.” He went back to his room and grabbed Molly’s clothes. Then he crossed the kitchen and entered the garage.
The muffled sounds from the back room only got louder as he turned the key in the knob. Sam walked in and closed the door at his back. Panic-stricken faces stared at him. He hated that part of the process, but with three girls as donors, he might not need to bring home any more women.
“I have to use the bathroom, Sam, and who are those girls?” Molly said.
“Don’t worry about it.” He slipped the T-shirt over Molly’s head. “I’m going to unstrap you so you can put your arms in the sleeves. Don’t try anything you’ll regret.”
She lay still as he unbuckled her.
“Sit up and put your arms in the shirt.”
She did as told.
“Now lie back down.”
“But I have to go to the bathroom.”
“You can wait for a few minutes. Now lay down.”
Molly did, and he buckled the strap tightly across her chest and arms. “Here are your jogging pants.”
“Are you letting me go?”
He snickered. “Hardly, but I only need your arm from now on. I’m going to release your legs for a minute. You kick me and you die, understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
He put a foot in each pant leg then loosened the strap across her calves. He slid the pants up to her waist then snugged the strap again. He looked over his shoulder at Kristen and Bethany. “I’m going to bring a bucket out here for you three to use. I don’t want any of you in my house. I’ll be back soon.”
“But wait—”
Sam didn’t stop. He closed the door and locked it behind him.
“What do you feel like eating for breakfast, Mom?” Sam had just entered the kitchen and glanced at the table across the room. Adeline’s head lay slumped on her chest, and the remote had fallen to the floor. “Mom!” He raced across the kitchen and lifted her out of the wheelchair. He placed her on the living room rug. “Can you hear me?” He put his ear against her chest and heard her heart beating. Thankfully, she was alive. He checked her pulse—it was weak. Sam ran to the bathroom and wet a washcloth. He placed it across her head. “Mom, wake up. Please wake up.”
She moaned and opened her eyes. Sam let out a deep breath and rushed to the kitchen. He filled a glass with orange juice and placed it on the coffee table. “Let me scoot you back against the couch. I want you to drink this juice.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. I’m guessing your blood sugar is low or your anemia is getting worse. I’ll be right back.” Sam returned to the kitchen and pulled the refrigerator handle. He stuck his head in the door and saw that only two pints of blood were left on the shelf. In her weakened state, Adeline would need a pint that day. He pulled one out of the refrigerator.
I need to keep four pints on hand at all times. I’ll be drawing blood after Mom gets her transfusion.
He returned to the living room and took a seat next to her. “Are you feeling better? Did the juice help?”
“Sort of, but I’m still a little dizzy.”
“You need to get back in bed so I can give you a transfusion. You’re getting weaker, Mom. I’m going back to the way I was doing it before.”
“Sam, I’m dying. Just admit it and let me go.”
He wiped his eyes. “You aren’t dying yet. The insurance will come through. Until then, I’ll do the best I can.” With the wheelchair at her side, Sam helped Adeline into it and rolled her back to her room. “I’ll get everything set up, but first, let’s get you in bed.” He lifted her onto the bed, slid the pillows behind her, and then pulled the blankets up to her chest. “I’ll get you some water. You need to stay hydrated.”
Sam returned a few minutes later with a pint of blood and a tall plastic cup of water. A straw poked out of the lid. “Here you go.” He handed her the cup and moved the roller table over the bed. He hooked the bag onto the IV stand and inserted the tube into the port taped to the back of her wrist. He opened the valve. “Do you need anything else, Mom? Want the TV on in here?”
“Yes, that would be nice.”
“You got it.” He clicked the remote and placed it on the roller table. “I’ll leave the door open. I don’t want anyone upsetting you, so they aren’t coming in to use the bathroom anymore. I’ll take a bucket out there.”
“Sam.”
“It’s okay. They’ll get used to it. I’m going to get them squared away with food, then I’ll start their blood draws. Call my cell if you need anything.”
He took three bottles of water with straws and six chocolate chip cookies out to the workroom. He placed them on the counter and left. A moment later he was back with a large blue bucket.
“Here’s your toilet, Molly. It’s either that or piss yourself, your choice.” He glanced at the other women. “Guess you’ll need buckets too.”
Molly began sobbing. “Just let us go.”
“Don’t start with me. I have enough problems without listening to your whining.” Sam walked around the room and looked for something that would restrain her but still give her the movement she needed. “Damn it, I can’t think of anything. You’re getting taped. It’s the easiest way to do this.” He released the chest straps. “Sit up so I can tape your hands behind your back. Your legs are getting taped together too. I’ll help you off the table, then you can figure out the rest on your own.”