CHAPTER FIVE STUART

We entered the hospital and I walked beside my mother. I'd been to the hospital a couple of times, in Emergency: once for a broken arm and once for a faceplant that broke my nose. Both times I'd been running away from something or just running. I dunno.

Declan told me I'd been in the hospital when I was with my biological mother too. I guess she almost drowned me in the bathtub and I had to go by ambulance. Declan told me that he'd run over to the neighbours' in our apartment and told them how my mother was pushing my head under the water, so the neighbours had called for the ambulance. Declan also said that she was really, really, really drunk, and that she screamed and hit us a lot when she was drunk. He said he used to cover my ears all the time.

After she tried to drown me, that's when we were taken away and put in foster homes. He remembers every foster home we were in, but I don't, at least not the first ones. I remember being at the Langfords' and that's when I got good at running. And I remember our very last foster home, the Williams', because that is my mom and dad's house. They are so nice to us.

As we walked through the hospital, I looked up at my mom, and she must have seen me looking at her because she turned and looked at me too. Her eyes were so dark and brown that her whites shone.

"Did you tell your new aide that I made you stay up all night and fix the walls?" she asked.

"I dunno." Now I didn't want to look at her.

"The school phoned me and asked if that was true. If you did tell your aide that you had to stay up all night, it was a lie. I only made you work for ten minutes in the morning, and you had to work because it was a consequence."

"I dunno," I said again.

"Okay. But you understand why I made you fix the walls, right? And that lying isn't good because it can get people into trouble."

"Am I in trouble?" I asked.

"No. I could have been, though, if they didn't believe my explanation."

I thought about that. I didn't want her to be in trouble. Had I said the wrong thing? Oh well. It was over now. No one was in trouble.

We walked a few more steps before she said, "I think Sam's going to like what you made him."

It was a black, braided leather bracelet, and I'd found a cool basketball bead to put on it. The bead was silver plated. I liked making bracelets and necklaces and they were all made of leather strands and were either black or brown. They were masculine, as my dad said. My dad wore the bracelet I made him all the time, even with his suit. I was good at making them, just like I was good at running. My mother had given me a bag to put it in, like this gift bag with stripes on it, and I thought it was lame, but she said it was nice to take a gift that was wrapped.

We took the elevator to the second floor, and when we got off my mother went to a desk and asked where Samir Sokolovic's room was. Once the lady at the desk told us, we made our way to his room. My last name is Williams but I've had two last names. My first last name was O'Brien but it got changed to Williams when I was adopted.

"Remember, Stuart, what we talked about in the car. Sam is sick."

She'd talked non-stop to me about how hospitals were places for sick people and not noise or running. Blah, blah, blah. I nodded.

"Good," she said.

The door to his room was open and we walked in. His mother was by his bed and both her and Sam looked at us when they heard us walk in. I'd met his mother before at a basketball game.

"Hello, Stuart," said his mother. To me she spoke funny, and Sam told me it was because she was from a different country. I can't remember which one. Starts with a B. It's somewhere far away, like over an ocean.

"Hi," I said back. I walked over to Sam and handed him the bag.

"Wow, thanks," he said. "You didn't have to bring me anything."

I shrugged.

His mother patted his shoulder. "You have nice visit." She looked at my mother. "I go for coffee. You join me?"

"Thank you," said my mother. She glanced at me before she turned back to Sam's mother. "But I think I'll stay close. It might be better. Maybe I'll park myself outside the door."

"I bring coffee," said Sam's mother.

They both left, and it was just me and Sam in the hospital room. I looked around at everything.

"I want to see what you gave me." He rustled the coloured paper my mom had put in the bag.

"I made it," I said.

He pulled out the bracelet. "Hey, Little Man, I love it."

It was so cool when he called me "Little Man" or "Little Dude." "Put it on," I said.

I watched as he clasped the bracelet around his wrist. I pointed to the basketball. "I found that at the bead store and thought you would like it."

He nodded but didn't say anything. I'd only seen Sam cry once and that's when they lost the City Championship the year before. "Don't you like it?" I asked.

He touched it. Then he flopped his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes.

"Are you tired? My mom told me that you might be tired and I should be quiet."

This made him open his eyes and sort of laugh. "I bet she did tell you that." He paused. "How's school going? You being cool to your new aide?"

I shrugged. "He can't catch me. He's slow."

"You gotta stop running, Little Man."

"I like running."

Sam blew air out of his mouth and ran his hand through his hair. "I do too," he said. He exhaled again.

Sam and I talked a little bit longer about different stuff, like the guys on the team and school and how I made the bracelet. I told him every step.

Then he asked, "How's Best Buddies?"

I shrugged. "I dunno."

"Didn't you go to dodgeball today?"

I shook my head.

"Why not? You like dodgeball."

"You weren't there."

"You can go without me."

"It wouldn't be very fun."

"If they're still doing that I Can Play soccer event with the other schools, you should go. You'd get to run lots there. Be good for you."

I looked away and stared at the bracelet instead. I didn't want to talk about Best Buddies. Sam was my Best Buddy, so if he wasn't there, I wasn't going to do anything they planned.

"There's things I can't do anymore." He started to spin the basketball bead around. "Like play basketball."

"Why?" My voice echoed in the room. I could feel my body start to buzz. I hated what he had just told me. He had to play. He was the captain, the best player.

"You have to play!" And I stared at him.

"Shhh," he said. "Not so loud." Then he opened his pajamas and showed me a sore he had on his chest. It had a patch over it, but I could see that it was a little red. Like a cut.

"See this?" he said.

"What is it?"

"They put something inside me to help my heart. Make it work properly. But because I have to have it, I can't play basketball anymore."

"You're the one who takes the ball down the court and you score and you pass to Cecil so he can score." My words were shooting out of my mouth, like they were on a high-speed chase.

"I can't," he said. "The doc said no."

"I don't want to be the water boy, then," I said.

"Come on, dude. Stay with the team until the end," he said. "They need you. Anyway, it's just one more game."

"NO!" The word just flew out of my mouth. It was on my tongue and I had to say it.

My mother burst in the room and said, "Is everything okay in here? Maybe we should get going. Let Sam get some rest."

Sam put his hand up for me to slap it. "I am tired, Little Man. Your mom is right. You should get going because I do need some sleep. But I'll see you at school soon."

"I'm not going to fill the water bottles if you're not playing."

This time he just said. "Okay. Your choice." Then he closed his eyes as if he was tired. Sam never got tired.

My mother touched my arm, but she didn't look at me and instead glanced at Sam. "Thanks for seeing him. I know this must be difficult for you."

He rolled his head on the pillow and opened his eyes, but he didn't sit up. "Thanks for coming," he said. "Appreciate the bracelet." He held up his fist.

I tapped his fist with mine and then my mom and I left. I didn't talk on the walk to the car or during the drive home. When we got to our house, I went right to the refrigerator, opened it, and stood there.

"Are you okay?" my mother asked me.

"That hospital was gross," I said. "It stunk." I shut the door of the fridge. I could see nothing I wanted to eat. I went to the pantry. "When is Sam getting out?"

"In a few days," she said. "We're having dinner soon. It's your favourite. Dad's going to barbeque steaks and I've got baked potatoes, asparagus, plus apple crisp for dessert. Mary and Randy are coming tonight. And I think she's bringing the spinach salad you like."

I grabbed a couple of crackers from a box in the pantry and munched on them at the kitchen table while I waited for Randy and Mary to arrive. My mom tried to get me to do some homework, but I drew cartoons on the paper instead. I hate homework. Usually I hate school, but Sam made it okay. Now it sucked.

Mom gave up trying to make me do my homework and made me set the table instead. I'd way rather set the table. Randy showed up as I was putting the last plate down. As soon as he walked in the kitchen, he gave me a high-five like he always did. He wasn't as tall as my dad, but he had way bigger biceps than me or Declan. Declan and Randy loved lifting weights together. I sometimes went with them, but I was so small I couldn't lift half of what they lifted so I hated going. I'd rather run, anyway. Randy told me I had a running build because I was so skinny and light. Randy had played football too, like my dad, but quit because he got hurt too many times, especially concussions, which means he got hit on the head. When I was first adopted we used to go to his games. He was in university then.

"How's it going?" he asked. He put a bottle of wine down on the table. "How's your buddy, Sam?"

"I dunno," I said.

"That's okay," he said. "I can ask Mom."

"He can't play basketball anymore," I said. "So, I don't want to help on the bench." These thoughts had been running and running through my mind.

"You shouldn't give up on your team," said Randy. "When you signed up you made a commitment to the team, not just to Sam."

"None of them like me. Except Sam."

"That's not true. Cecil does," said Randy. "I've seen him talking to you. So does that Craig guy. Man, has he improved. Anyway, it's not about them liking you. It's about you doing a job you said you would do. Right?" He arched his eyebrows when he said the word right as if he was right. Then he slung his arm around me.

I felt the buzzing start inside my body and I moved away from him.

"Randy's right," said my mother. "A commitment is a commitment, and they only have one more game. I think you could do one more game."

Why didn't they just understand? I DIDN'T WANT TO DO THE LAST GAME.

"I won't do it if Sam isn't there!" I yelled at them.

Randy held up both his hands. "Okay. Okay. Sorry I said anything."

Suddenly, I didn't want to be in the house. And I didn't want to talk about Sam. I bolted as fast as I could to the front door, flung it open, and started running down our driveway. I hit the sidewalk and ran, pumping my arms and legs, moving as fast as I could. I could hear footsteps behind me, but I kept running. I had made it all the way to the end of the street before I stopped. I wanted to keep going but my legs felt like jelly. And my heart was pounding. So I stopped and leaned over. My breath came out in gasps.

"Geez…," said Randy.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eyes. He had his hands on his knees and was leaning over. His back went up and down as he breathed. "I'm gonna puke."

I stood back up. "You didn't catch me."

"No." He stood up too and his face was red and he was still gasping for his breath. "I didn't," he said. "You're fast." He paused and put his hand to his heart. "And I think I'm out of shape. I haven't run like that since my football days."

"I'm faster than you," I said.

He laughed. "You are at that."

All my bad feelings were gone, and I laughed too.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go back. Mom's making a good meal. One we don't want to miss."

We didn't talk as we walked, at least not at first. Then he said, "Have you ever thought of running cross country or track and field? I think you'd be good at it."

"Sam said the same thing," I replied.

We arrived back at the house just as Mary was pulling up in her car. Her and her husband, Lewis, got out and she waved at us. Lewis had hair that looked like the colour of a pumpkin and a gazillion freckles. Craig's nickname was Ging, but Owen's was Red. Mary and him always laughed when they talked about what their baby would look like when it was born. Would it have red hair or black hair? Fair skin or black skin? Green eyes or dark brown eyes? Special mix, she said. She wore a coat but I could still see her big stomach.

"You out for a little walk before dinner?" she asked. She held a bowl in her hands that was covered in tin foil.

"More like a sprint," said Randy.

We all went into the house and I could smell the BBQ. Mary always helped Mom in the kitchen but today Mom shushed her away and asked me to help. Having a baby got Mary out of doing a lot of work. I put stuff on the table and when Declan came down, he helped too. I was coming back into the kitchen, when I saw Mary and Mom looking at something that was on a piece of paper.

"What are you looking at?" I asked.

Mary turned around and grinned. "An ultrasound of our baby. Come look." She gestured that I should come over. Mary talked with her hands a lot.

I went over to them and stared at this black and white piece of paper that didn't really look like much of anything but a big blur. Then Mary pointed to the middle of the picture. "This is our baby." She almost sang her words.

I squinted and looked at it and what I saw was something that was all curled up and looked more like a big blob or a sleeping mouse.

"Look." Mary laughed and pointed to a spot on the paper. "He's sucking his thumb."

My mother stared at her. "Did you just say 'he'?"

Mary nodded and giggled. "I couldn't wait," she said. "So I asked. They said it's a boy!" Then they hugged.

"What's going on in here?" Declan asked as he came into the kitchen.

My mom smiled, such a big smile. "Mary is having a boy."

"Do you want to look at the ultrasound photo too?" Mary asked Declan.

He shrugged, but he looked at it just like I did. "It doesn't look like a baby," he said. I agreed with him.

Once again, Mary pointed out the baby and how 'he' was sucking his thumb. Then Declan said, "Our mother drank alcohol when we looked like this?"

My mother put her arm around Declan. "Declan, she had a problem. But that's why Mary won't have any wine at dinner."

"I hate our mother," he said. "She made me stupid."

"You shouldn't hate her," said Mary. "And you're not stupid. You just learn differently."

My mother picked up the bowl Mary had brought. "How about we sit down at the table and talk about this." As we walked into the dining room (where we ate when Mary and Randy and Lewis come over), she glanced at me. "You coming?"

"I dunno."

"You should hate her too!" snapped Declan.

"Well, I don't!" I yelled back. Declan was always trying to tell me what to do. Why would I hate someone I didn't know anymore? I hadn't seen her since I was little.

"Boys, let's just sit down."

I was about to run again when Randy put his arm around me. "Dad made your steak just how you like it."

I wanted steak more than I wanted to run. But I didn't want to talk about her. She had put me in the closet, and it was dark, and she liked to pinch me and squeeze my arm so tight her nails dug in my skin and made me bleed. Why would I want to talk about her?

****

At school the next day, Justin saw me in the hall and stopped to talk to me.

"Hey, Stuart. We missed you at Best Buddies dodgeball yesterday."

"Sam's not there," I said.

"You can still come. Everyone was asking about you."

I shook my head.

"Okay. We talked about the I Can Play day yesterday. It should be a lot of fun. You'll like it because it's soccer and running."

I shoved my hands in my pockets and still didn't want to talk.

He patted my shoulder. "It's not for another month," he said. "I'm sure Sam will be back by then."

"He can't play basketball anymore," I said. "I visited him and he showed me the thing they put under his skin to make his heart work."

"I had a talk with the group about Sam yesterday, and why he was in the hospital."

"Hospitals stink," I said.

"He told me you made him a bracelet. Sounds pretty cool. Maybe we could do something like that as a group one day. You could show us how."

"I'm not going to sit on the bench if he's not there."

He patted my back. "I know this is hard on you. But maybe you should rethink your role on the team. They still need you."

"I don't want to."

"Well, Sam might not be able to play basketball, but he can still do Best Buddies. That's good news, right?"