I sort of swim in and out of reality. It’s like I keep falling asleep in the middle of a movie or something. I just have little video clips of what’s going on, but they don’t fit together very well.
The dinghy rocking. The sweat on Dad’s face. Some guy stopping on the road. People running. Bright lights.
And then the tubes. I try to pull them out of my arm. The nurse puts her hand over mine and stops me.
I don’t know if she tells me then or if it’s something I overheard but I know I have blood poisoning from “the wound.” That’s what she keeps calling it.
Then sometime later—I don’t know how long—I open my eyes and I see Mom. Her face is all puffy and wet. I suddenly understand how sick I am—but it’s weird. I’m not scared. It’s just sort of a fact.
I open my eyes another time and Dad’s there. He’s holding my hand and he doesn’t let go of it even when he knows I’m awake. That doesn’t seem strange either, although it clearly is.
Tara comes too. I’ve been dreaming about her, and when I wake up there she is, asleep beside me in the chair.
Maybe that’s what finally knocks me back to life. I wake up for real this time.
I look around the room. It’s sort of dark. The sun hasn’t come up yet, or maybe it’s just gone down, I don’t know. There are flowers and balloons and cards everywhere. Dad is sitting bolt upright in a chair with his eyes closed and his mouth open.
I shift in the bed. I see someone’s feet on the floor. I recognize them immediately. It’s the tan. Anthony’s asleep too.
Or maybe he’s not. This game we used to play when he first moved in with Mom comes back to me. He’d be holding a bag of candies. He’d pretend to fall asleep and I’d sneak up to steal them. I’d just get my little hand on the bag—then he’d jump up screaming. He’d chase me all around the house until he caught me, but by then he’d be too “tired” to eat the candies himself. He’d end up giving them to me.
Anthony scratches his arm in his sleep, and another memory materializes in my head. I’m sitting on his lap. He’s holding down the chords so I can strum the strings. It hits me that the person lying on the floor now is the same person who did that then. I hadn’t made that connection before.
I touch Tara’s arm and she jumps awake.
I say, “I’m thirsty.” Her eyes smile as if I just told her I won the lottery. She runs out into the hall.
Dad and Anthony are both up in a second and crowding around the bed. They’re smiling but they both look like they’re not sure they’re allowed to.
In a minute, Tara’s back with the nurse.
“Which one of you is the father?” she says.
Dad and Anthony both say, “I am.”