The crappy part of knowing about Joshua’s hospital hoax was knowing Addison would never believe me. “We should have taken pics,” Sophie had said while we trudged home.
At that point, I couldn’t even get words out. I just nodded and grunted and tried to fight down the panic rising in my chest. “I just don’t get the point, you know?” Sophie waited for me to grunt back. “He has nothing better to do than to fake terminal illness?”
I got the point. The minute we saw Addison the next morning, he asked how Joshua seemed the night before. “Do you think he’s getting any stronger?” Addison cracked his knuckles. “I don’t see a difference, really. But his appetite’s back. That’s something.” Sophie glanced at me.
“Maybe we could schedule a meeting?” I suggested. “With Joshua’s doctors?” Addison’s face clouded. “It would help us support his recovery more if we had a clearer picture of what he needed.” Sophie nodded vigorously beside me.
“He’s not going to go for that,” Addison said. “Joshua doesn’t want to worry us.” I tried to steady my eyes from rolling.
“Yeah, but look how worn out you are,” Sophie told Addison, so I didn’t have to.
“It’s nothing.” Addison shook off her sympathy. “Think of what Joshua’s going through.”
I needed to keep reminding myself: Addison thinks Joshua saved him. Whatever lies followed, that was the one indisputable truth. And it made everything else harder.
Joshua had taken to walking with a cane. He kept a little pill case with colored caplets distributed in each tiny plastic compartment. He trotted that out when we circled up after the boys’ Tuesday night NA meeting. I leaned in closer, expecting them to be Tic Tacs. But they were actual pills. I thought maybe we’d get lucky and he’d overdose on aspirin. “Elizabeth, could you rub my throat for me, please?” he asked me when he caught me watching him swallow the little row of pills.
“I’m sorry — what’s that?” I thought I misheard him but he craned his neck back, baring the dark arc of his throat.
“Just massage there, right by my Adam’s apple.” He pointed to the spot. I reached out and placed my palm carefully against his throat. It crossed my mind then — I could tighten my grip and strangle him. Instead I felt him swallow. “I take so many of these. Not so easy to get down.” When Joshua spoke, his skin hummed lightly.
“What are they?” I tried to sound casual.
“Just something the specialist prescribed for nausea.” When I stopped rubbing, Joshua grabbed my hand. “You have healing powers. Do you believe that about yourself?” I shrugged. He said, “Better than anything pharmaceutical.” I felt my eyes darting around, avoiding contact with his gaze. He held up my hand to examine it. “I feel fortunate. What other patient has access to an angel?”
My ears went hot with embarrassment. Joshua looked past me to the others in the room — Addison, Sophie, Jared, and Hannah. “I need to make a request to stretch my fortune. Do you understand what I’m asking for? Sophia?”
Sophie’s voice sounded sour. “A return to the wilderness.” I tried to coax her with my eyes. Sweeten it up, Soph. But Joshua noticed.
“Why does that inspire anger in you, Sophia?” My belly knotted up, sure she would spill everything. Jared even stepped forward, as if he too thought Hurricane Sophie was ready to blow. But she caught herself and even mustered up the strength to tell him, “I just fret about you a little bit.” Somewhere, Sophie had sprouted a little twang. “Your immune system must be so darn compromised.”
“And if anything should happen up there,” I tried to help, “who would we call for help?”
Joshua pouted. He called out to Addison, “Brother, I have been envisioning a ceremony. Now, I don’t know if it will be a farewell ceremony, but I’d like the chance to gather us under the big sky one last time.” Joshua glared up at the light fixtures as if they hid surveillance cameras. “Away from prying eyes.”
“We can find our own place here.” I kept my voice firm and held Addison’s eyes. “No one wants Joshua to put himself in harm’s way for our sake.”
Hannah stepped forward and ducked under Joshua’s arms. “But we appreciate the spirit of your sacrifice.” He crumpled a little, then slumped in his seat. Hannah had begun to speak his language.
Joshua shook his head sadly. “I don’t know who gave you all permission to have such little faith. You all are stingy with your beliefs.”
“We worry. We love you and so we worry.” When Addison said that, it seemed to calm him.
“Let me just make a humble request that you all share your strength with me. I will keep fighting, if you surround me with your resilience. Our world might have tried to discard us, but we will return in triumph.” I watched Addison’s head bob up and down. Hannah wiped tears from her eyes. Sophie sat in stony silence. She met my eyes and then mustered a vigorous nod.
Later, in her room when it was just the two of us, Sophie tried to explain. “I just can’t,” she told me. “Sitting there and listening to him spew all his bullshit about sacrifice and suffering — doesn’t that infuriate you? How can you let him get away with it?”
“We’re not letting him get away with it. That’s the whole point, right?”
“Yeah, sure. We’ll track the cracktard’s movements, get telescopic lens photos that spell out his total sham of a terminal illness, and then what? We confront him and then look at that — we’ll be discarded like Wes. Or maybe Addison won’t be subtle about it this time. He’ll just physically hurt us.”
“Shut up. You’re talking about Addison.”
“I’m talking about a guy who’s admitted to violently assaulting someone. You don’t think that confession was designed to intimidate us? I, for one, intend to protect myself from here on in.”
“Stop it. It’s Addison. If anything, he meant us to understand that he’d protect us. He’s on our side.”
“As long as we’re on Joshua’s. I don’t mean to insult your blow-job skills, but you might be overestimating them a little bit, lady.”
“Awesome. Really. There’s actually a little more between me and Addison. He’ll believe us because he trusts us. At the same time, we’re toppling his idol, you know? So we need hard evidence. And maybe more time to gather it. We can’t do that with a target on our back. Joshua needs to believe we’re complacent.”
“He doesn’t. You heard him today.”
“Because you keep challenging him. All you need to do is sit there and look sad. Furrow your brow. Throw a little concern his way.”
“Greer, I’m telling you I can’t lie like you.”
An accusation sat there between us, although Sophie pretended otherwise. “So that’s my superpower? Lying? Or is it tied between lies and blow jobs?”
“Okay, I didn’t say that. But it seems like you’re able to compartmentalize. You sit there with Joshua and play the part of the ardent believer.” She looked away from me then. “It just freaks me out to see how good you are at it.”
Really, it isn’t much different from stealing, I wanted to tell her. You just act as if you should own whatever it is you’re walking out with and then you do. Or how, afterward, my family all managed to sit steadily at the same dining room table where my cousin held us at gunpoint — you passed along the dish of mashed potatoes like nothing happened, until it felt as if it didn’t. In the back of my mind, I knew Joshua had just wandered into our lives through the back door of a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. If he hadn’t met Addison at a desperate moment, he would have just been another old creep who tried to strike up a conversation at the coffee shop.
But that’s not how it happened. So in the front of my mind, I kept Joshua perched on a throne and made sure to frequently genuflect. I saw all of us as if we’d been positioned on a stage. Yeah, I played the part.
“I don’t believe in church either,” I tried to explain. “Those are rituals too. My parents believe in them so I went through the motions. Right? Why wouldn’t I do the same thing for Addison? He’s done more for me than —”
“I know. Joshua’s gone off the rails, though,” Sophie reminded me. I just nodded. We hadn’t been debating that. “He’s a really sick man. Really, he scares the hell out of me.”
We just sat there in silence then, leaning against the flimsy bed. And then almost dove underneath it when Sophie’s door swung open. “What the hell?” Sophie yelled, probably expecting an invasion from Jenn Sharpe, blogger to the scars.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Addison whispered as quickly as he slipped through the door. “Shhh — you don’t want to make too much noise.” Sophie’s eyes widened more and I could tell she did want to make a whole lot of noise. Even I felt like I’d been kicked in the chest or something. How long had he been standing outside that door?
“Shh — please?” Addison pleaded with Sophie and looked to me for help. “I just need Greer. I need to talk to Greer.” He didn’t look right. His face was strained and his eyes kept darting around the room. He raised a hand to rub them and I noticed blood on his knuckles. I stood up and Sophie grabbed my ankle.
“What’s going on, Addison?” I tried to keep my voice light and calm.
“Can we go outside?”
“No!” Sophie pretty much screamed it, and Addison and I both turned to shush her.
“It’s almost lights-out, buddy. Right? It’s pretty dicey that you’re even in the dorm. Ms. Crane will lose her shit.” I stepped forward and felt Sophie’s grip tighten. I looked down just for a second, to shake her off, to say stop. Or don’t worry. But right then Addison grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the door. I stood there, caught between them.
“I just need to talk to you. Five minutes.” Addison’s voice choked, like he was trying not to cry. I reached out for his hand, glanced down at Sophie, and nodded. He said, “I couldn’t find you.” And then Addison seemed to remember Sophie. “Sorry. I couldn’t find Greer.”
He held up his hand and examined the palm.
“Other side,” she barked.
“Oh. I …” He closed his eyes, hung his head down. Sophie stared meaningfully at me. Addison’s shoulders heaved. “I’m ashamed.” For a second, I flashed back to Addison up at the Delias’ cabin, how his voice shook as he spoke about kicking that kid in the face. “I got so angry, just fed up about how unfair the whole thing is. I punched the wall.” He looked up at me. “A granite wall. Like some cliché. I’m such an idiot.”
“No,” I said, even as Sophie muttered, “Yeah.” She added, “You’re both idiots, and you’re going to get caught shacking up in my room.”
“Five minutes?” he asked again. “I’ll go out first. Wait a minute or two and follow close behind. Try to keep me in sight.” He glanced at Sophie and seemed to realize how little she trusted him. “Thanks, Soph. Sorry to bother you.” But Addison didn’t sound sorry. He opened the door just a sliver before darting out into the hall.
“Greer,” Sophie warned. But he was already halfway to the stairwell, confident that I’d trail behind him. So I rushed to catch up.
I know plenty about the decisive glide of the up-to-no-good. How you sacrifice the slightest bit of speed for a lot of silence. You stare at some fixed point straight ahead, as if you could stop to explain yourself, but that might distract you from your focused purpose. Addison was a ninja, though. He pretty much floated through the female dorm right before lights-out, while most girls were trekking to and from the showers with their dopey plastic buckets of face soap and toothpaste. Just following in his wake, I felt unseen.
From the top of the steps, I saw him kneel down and whip out a roll of electrical tape from his pocket. Addison looked once each way while he tore off a piece and taped over the lock to the building’s entrance. By the time I reached him, he stood up. He reached behind me to make sure the door shut softly behind us.
“You sure it will hold?” I asked, imagining what would happen if we got locked out of our dorms overnight.
“Positive,” Addison said.
“Where are we going?” But he didn’t answer. We kept up the brisk pace until we found the little bridge by the dining hall. Addison jumped down; pebbles scattered where he landed. He reached up and helped me hop down too.
“It’s okay, here?” But Addison just sat down in the spot closest to the building’s wall. The cement footbridge cast a shadow topped with the dark bars of the wrought-iron railing. He took my hand and guided me to sit beside him.
“It’s fine, but stay as close to the wall as possible.” He pulled out his cell phone and cupped his hand around the lit screen.
“How often do you do this?” But Addison just stared at me.
“It’s happening tonight.”
“What is?” At first, I thought he meant his release from McCracken Hill. Because that’s what I was most afraid of.
“The surgery. The beeper went off at Sal’s when I was getting him food.”
“Did you hear it go off?”
But Addison hurtled right past that question. “We left right then and I walked him to the hospital.”
“They didn’t send an ambulance to pick him up?”
“Joshua wanted to spend the time together. But then he wouldn’t let me stay.”
“Listen — if we explained to the dean — someone would probably even wait with you if you didn’t want to be alone at the hospital. I could go —” I moved to my knees, to stand, but Addison dragged me back.
“Get down.” He huddled beside me. He leaned his face against mine and I felt tears. “Joshua doesn’t want me there.”
It was crucial to press ever so gently. “Really? Maybe he just didn’t want to ask? Did you speak to his doctor?”
“No. He didn’t even let me walk him into admissions. We went to the chapel and said a prayer there. Then he walked me back to the lobby.” Addison covered his eyes with one hand, gripped his cell with the other. “I walked back myself. You know — the whole time thinking, they’re prepping him now, they’re wheeling him around into the operating room. He’s going to text.” He waved the phone.
“When he’s done? When he wakes up?”
“No. Beforehand.”
I didn’t understand. I waited for Addison to explain, but then the phone trembled in his hand. He drew me closer with his other arm so that I could see the text too. Getting ready. Reflecting on Brother Jared. “Wait. Joshua’s texting now?”
“He said he would.” Addison sighed. “He wants to have each of us on his mind. Remember? Greer, he explained this.”
“Right, but they’re letting him use his phone? After he’s been put under anesthesia?” I tried to sound more surprised than dubious.
But Addison still heard the doubt edging my question and he bristled. “He’s all alone there. Who else does he have?” The phone shuddered again. “Sophie. He’s reaching out for her wisdom.” Addison bit his lip, nodded to himself. His breath whistled with suppressed sobs. I tried to stop myself from picturing Joshua in the coffee shop. Probably he’d stepped out of a cab minutes before. He’d settled in somewhere, poured a cup of tea, and then began emotionally torturing my boyfriend.
Another text arrived. “Hannah,” I said.
Addison smiled at me, pleased that I remembered how Joshua had ranked us. He said, “I wish we could all gather together, to wait. For Joshua’s sake, you know? But I couldn’t get to everyone. And maybe it’s selfish, but I’d rather just sit here with you.”
A few miles away, Joshua sat on some sinking sofa, casually typing. I forced myself to focus on Addison — right in front of me, more scared than I’d ever seen him. “I love you,” I told him. Usually we didn’t say it so baldly. There was usually a joke attached or even the remnants of some fight. “It’s going to be okay.”
He assumed I meant Joshua. “The surgery itself will take four hours and then he’ll be in recovery for one night and on a regular floor for six more. If everything goes okay.” Addison stared at the quiet phone. “It’s been a while now.” The phone leapt a little, like it had been listening.
He tipped the screen so I could read it. I whispered, “Tell Elizabeth, remember the star.”
“It must be the anesthesia. It’s affecting him now.” Addison examined the message more closely. “Remember the star?”
“I don’t know what he means.” It felt like I’d failed at something.
“Maybe ‘remember the scar’? The ‘stare’?”
I shook my head. “We’ll have to ask him when he wakes up.” It felt dangerous to ask, also necessary. “You don’t think it’s strange that they’d allow Joshua to send text messages while he’s actually in the operating room?” Addison’s head reared back and I braced myself for his temper, but then the phone shivered in his hand once more.
We read Joshua’s message together: Addison, brother, you are my greatest gift to the world. Be brave. Embody integrity and know that I love y. “He must have passed out then.” I stopped myself from pointing out the convenience of Joshua’s pristine spelling. Addison gripped my hand. “You think he just passed out? He didn’t — it doesn’t mean that he — we haven’t lost him. Right?”
“No way.” At least I could be sure of that. I wrapped my arms around him and felt his sobs break across his whole body. Addison moaned and wept while I sat and kept watch and silently swore that somehow I’d find a way to stop Joshua.