When the trunk and the backseat of the Buick were filled with boxes of books, Amanda drove to the hospital and pulled into a visitors’ parking space near the lobby.
“Thanks for all your help, Matt.”
Matt checked the time on his phone. “Let’s get these boxes into the lobby. I need to get going.”
“Really? I was hoping there might be enough time to read a book to one of the kids. If someone’s around, you know, if the time is right.”
“I’ll take the bus.” Matt stepped onto the pavement, opened the back door and lifted a box.
“No, it’s okay. I can swing by here tomorrow.”
“Whatever.”
Matt stacked another box on top of the one in his arms. As he did he heard sirens blare. He shrank against the car. An ambulance zoomed in and stopped abruptly at the nearby entrance to the emergency room.
The EMTs hopped out, opened the back doors and removed a gurney. An elderly man lay on the stretcher, an oxygen mask obscuring his face. One gnarled hand reached up, grasped at an EMT’s sleeve, then slipped and fell back. As they rushed him past Matt and through the hospital doors the old man kept reaching up and grabbing, again and again, but never got a good grip.
“Fuck this,” Matt said. He dropped the boxes on the curb and marched toward the parking lot exit.
He heard Amanda calling to him but he didn’t slow down.
Matt missed the bus by two minutes and had to walk home. He kept checking the time on his phone, and when it hit four-thirty he ran the rest of the way.
Matt wrestled open the door of the trailer and scanned the front room. No mess in the kitchen. Blanket still folded on top of the couch. TV off.
His heart did a wavering thing, then redlined. He stalked down the hallway. “Jack?” Bedroom door closed. “Jack?” He pushed open the door. Jack lay still on the bed, eyes open, fixed on the ceiling. His face looked different, the cheeks a little more sunken, the lips looser somehow. Matt’s breath came in fits and starts. “Jack?” He couldn’t make his legs take the two steps to the bed. “Jack, I told you this wasn’t funny anymore.”
Jack was still for another moment before his head rolled on the pillow to face Matt. “No shit.”
Matt felt his knees buckle with relief. He sat on the bed. “What are you doing?” Jack was quiet. “What are you still doing in here?”
“Playing tennis, kid, what’s it look like?”
“Didn’t you get out of bed today?”
Jack sighed. He shook his head but it barely moved. Matt reached to put his hand on the blanket covering Jack’s leg, to make sure he was still there, but stopped before touching him. “Are you okay?”
“Stupid question.”
“You know what I mean.”
Jack coughed, short, staccato barks that grew louder and longer until it sounded like he was retching. He winced as his chest shuddered. Matt could only watch.
The coughing jag faded. Jack leaned over on one shoulder and reached for the tissues on the bedside table. His hand made a grasping motion although it was still a few feet away from the box. Matt pulled out a handful and held it up to Jack’s face. Jack spat a brown glob into the wad of tissue. He fell back onto his pillow.
“I feel ’bout the same way I felt yesterday, if that’s what yer askin’. And the day before that one.”
“What have you had to eat today?”
Jack shook his head.
“Nothing? Why not?”
“Not hungry.”
“Jesus, Jack.” Matt stood up. His body wanted to pace, but there was no room. He tossed the tissue in the trash and took a deep breath. “Look, you have to take care of yourself. I’ll make dinner. You want ice cream or the fish sticks?”
Jack made a face.
“Come on. What is this?” Matt moved closer to the bed and hovered over Jack, who turned his head the other way. “You’re not giving up, are you?”
“Like it’s my choice.”
Matt stuffed his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t punch a hole through the faux-wood paneling. “What do you want? Huh? You wanna play cards? Watch TV? You want me to turn on the radio? There’s gotta be something. You can’t just lie in here. You can’t.”
Jack slowly raised one hand from underneath the blanket and scratched at his red-and-white beard. “You really wanna know what I want?”
“What?”
Jack turned his head to look at Matt again and smiled. For that moment he looked once again like the Jack that Matt remembered. “I wanna get laid. Just one more time before it’s all over.”
Matt grunted out what might have been a half-laugh and shook his head. As he walked down the hall toward the kitchen area he called over his shoulder. “You bet, Jack. We’ll hit the singles bars tonight. Right after dinner.”
Matt’s hands were shaking as he opened the refrigerator. He searched every shelf and drawer, desperately trying to find something—anything—that Jack would eat.