Max Baker: Guardian of the Ninth Sector

www.crescentmoonpress.com

Max Baker – Guardian of the Ninth Sector
Matthew Cronan

ISBN:
978-1-939173-05-8
E-ISBN: 978-1-939173-06-5

© Copyright Matthew Cronan 2013. All rights reserved

Editor: Sheldon Reid
Cover Art: Taria Reed
Layout/Typesetting: jimandzetta.com

Crescent Moon Press

1385 Highway 35

Box 269

Middletown, NJ 07748

Ebooks/Books are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Crescent Moon Press electronic publication/print publication: February 2013
www.crescentmoonpress.com

To my Grandfather,

who was always willing to bet on the underdog.

The moon was full and hung low in the sky.  The frigid December air stung the man’s lungs and bit at his face as he hurried from his car to the illuminated doors ahead of him.  Tiny snowflakes blanketed the air as they slowly fell to the earth, creating a huge ivory sea in front of him.  He carefully navigated the icy walkway up to the entrance of the hospital.

He ran toward the electronic doors, and they slowly slid out of his way.  His foot caught on the corner of one of the doors as he entered, almost sending him into a full tumble toward the vacant reception desk.  He scanned the empty waiting area, quickly identified the elevator sign and headed in the direction of the arrow.

The man reached the small bank of elevators and tapped the call button over and over again, finally stopping when he heard the mechanical rumbling from behind the metal doors.

“Come on,” he pleaded with the elevators, wondering if the stairs would be a more viable option.

As he waited for the large, stainless steel doors to open, he scanned the directory above the call button.  He noticed that the OB/GYN was located on the fourth floor.  The overhead display revealed that the elevator was slowly making its way down and was presently located on the third floor. 

“For Pete’s sake,” he muttered.

The man removed his cell phone from his pocket.  The LED display read:

1 Unread Text

He slid his finger over the unlock button, and the message automatically popped up on the screen:

Please Hurry

– Eve

“I’m coming baby,” the man said to himself. He heard a loud ding as the metal doors of the elevator opened, shaking loudly in front of him. For a brief moment, he hesitated and contemplated the stairs one last time.  

“I will never understand this archaic technology,” he said, taking a deep breath and entering the steel box.  Once inside, the man rapidly hit the fourth floor button until it was lit; the plastic button was tarnished and cracked.

As the elevator began its ascension, the man noticed the easy listening song being piped into the antiquated overhead speaker.  It was a version of an old popular rock song that he vaguely remembered from his youth.  He rolled his eyes once he recognized the recycled tune, but caught himself humming along moments later while the elevator slowly crept between floors. 

On the façade wooden wall beside him, there was a poster of a small child sitting on a concrete step.  The towheaded boy in the photo extended a melting scoop of ice cream out for a golden retriever.  It was an advertisement for the hospital that read at the bottom:

Forest Valley Hospital

Serving Georgia since 1975

The picture was faded and worn.  The man wondered if they had replaced the elevator since opening; the metal box seemed more and more like a metal trap of death as it rattled between the third and the fourth floors.  He wondered if the picture was the origina
l advertisement for the hospital.  He wondered why the elevator wouldn’t move any faster.

With a violent thud, the elevator stopped, dinged, and the doors clattered open.  The man ran at full speed toward the nurse’s station, which was manned by an elderly woman. Her silver hair was pulled tight into a neat bun on top of her head.  As he approached, she offered a warm smile.

“Mr. Baker?” the nurse asked, not raising her voice over a whisper.

“Am I too late?” the man asked, gasping for his breath.

“If you mean are you too late to see your children being born, I’m sorry to say yes,” she said.

The man bent down and clutched his knees.  He felt a cold wave of grief wash over him.  He had known the importance of being at Evelyn’s side.  He had made a promise that he would be there for her, and he had failed her.  He felt horrible.  He cursed at himself quietly as he let the blood rush to his head.  He closed his eyes tight, took a couple of deep breaths and then resigned to swearing again.

“Mr. Baker,” the nurse said.

“I’m sorry,” he said, still bent over at the waist.

“Mr. Baker,” the nurse said a bit more firmly, causing him to stand up straight and look at her.  “While you might be too late to see the birth of your children, you do have the rest of your life to make it up to them.”  She gave him another warm smile.  “Now I’m sure your wife would still love to see you, despite your tardiness, so I would suggest heading to room 4021 and starting with an apology.”

“Thank you,” he called out to the nurse, already heading in the direction of the room.

“Congratulations,” the nurse called quietly after him.

As the man entered the room, he saw his wife.  Evelyn looked as if she had aged 10 years.  When he had seen her two days ago, she had looked so young.  Now, sitting before him was a woman.  She was absolutely radiant.  Her forehead glistened with beaded droplets of sweat. Her sandy blonde hair was wet and pressed to her skin.  The pale green hospital gown that she wore was damp and clung to her body.   

He stood silently in the doorway, admiring his beautiful wife and now mother of his children.  She had not seen him, instead her entire attention was focused on the most beautiful baby the man had ever seen.  Evelyn was clutching the tiny child tightly in her arms and he could see the baby’s handsome, wrinkled face peeking out from behind the white blanket swaddled around it. 

After a long pause, the man lightly rapped his knuckles on the heavy wooden door, catching Evelyn's attention.  He didn’t know what he expected in that moment.  He half expected a scornful look and half expected tears of sadness and disappointment.  Whatever the outcome, he knew that he deserved it.  Instead, what he received was the brightest, biggest smile Evelyn had ever given him.

“Colin you made it,” she beamed at him. “Come here and meet your son.”

Colin strode over toward the two of them, noticing only one empty bassinet in the room.  “Where’s the other one?” he asked, making his way closer.

“Aiden is having a couple of tests run,” Evelyn said.  She must have noticed the look of concern wash over Colin’s face because she quickly added, “But there’s no need to worry.  The doctor said everything was fine.  He just looked like he might have a touch of jaundice.”  The man took a deep sigh of relief upon hearing this news.

“Eve, look what we have done,” Colin said, smiling down at the small infant.  The child’s eyes were shut and his skin was a rosy pink.  The boy twitched slightly and then presented a subtle smile. Colin felt his heart melt. 

“We made a miracle,” she agreed with him.  “Two of them.”

Colin gently placed his hand on the small forehead; it was soft and warm.  Colin could feel tears swelling up in his eyes and felt ashamed for not being there sooner.  A tear slowly cascaded over the lip of his eyelid and rolled slowly down his cheek.

“I am so sorry-” he began, but was quickly interrupted.

“Don’t be,” Evelyn said.  “You did everything that you could to be here and here you are.  All that matters is that you are here now.”  She adjusted the child from one arm to the other.  “Would you like to hold your son?” she asked, lifting the baby up to him.

Carefully Colin extended his arms and Evelyn slipped the baby into them. He felt almost weightless and Colin was terrified that he would break him if he squeezed too hard.  The tiny child yawned and slowly opened its eyes to reveal two beautiful icy blue irises. As if he knew that Colin was his father, the child smiled a wide toothless grin.

“He smiled at me!” Colin said to Evelyn.

“He has your eyes,” she said.

“He’s so light,” Colin said.  “I’m afraid that I might break him.”

“No you won’t,” Evelyn said warmly.  “You’re doing just fine.”

“Maximus,” Colin said to the baby.

“No.  Not Maximus.  Just Max,” Evelyn said.

“Please, Eve.  I’m having a conversation with my son,” he said, still smiling at the baby.  Max squinted and let out another tiny yawn.  Colin adjusted the blanket to cover the child’s chest and he felt Max’s small, warm hand wrap around his index finger.  He could feel the tears returning to his eyes.  He had never been happier in his whole life as he stared at his little creation.

There was a knock at the door and a tall man dressed in green scrubs entered the room, followed by a stout woman wearing pink scrubs.  The woman quickly surveyed the room and approached Colin and Max.

“Mr. Baker, we need to take Max momentarily,” the nurse said.  Colin thought for a moment that he heard a quiver in her voice.  A nervousness. He dismissed the notion and handed Max over, giving the child a quick kiss on the forehead during the transition.

The nurse quickly placed the baby in the bassinet and rolled him out of the room.  Colin watched as the tall man checked Evelyn’s vitals on the heart rate monitor above the bed and made notes on the metal clipboard that he was holding.

“How is my other miracle, Dr. Stevenson?” Evelyn asked the tall man.

The doctor finished scribbling down his notes on the chart and then brought the clipboard to his chest, folding his arms around it.  He had dark bags under his faded green eyes.  Colin thought that he had never seen eyes that looked as sad as this doctor’s had.  He had never seen eyes that looked so hollow...so empty.

The tall man looked at both Evelyn and Colin. “Mr. and Mrs. Baker, I have some bad news,” he sighed.  Colin was quite sure now that he heard a quiver in the man’s voice and immediately felt his heart begin to race.  The lump in his throat began to swell and he found it difficult to breath. 

“What is it?” Evelyn said. 

The tall man began to talk, never making direct eye contact with either Colin or Eve.  His voice was quiet as he told the couple that Aiden was no longer with them.

As soon as the words left the doctor’s lips, Colin’s heart sank into his stomach.  He heard Evelyn let out a bloodcurdling scream, but it seemed so far away.  He felt the room beginning to spin.  He felt an acute numbness washing over him.

“I assure you that we did everything that we could to save the child,” Dr. Stevenson said. His voice was flat and monotone.

Colin felt his knees shaking terribly beneath him and knew that they wouldn’t support his weight much longer.  He collapsed onto the chair behind him as the doctor’s voice trailed off. 

He could no longer fight the tears that had built up and they erupted out of him and streamed down his face.  The words ‘complications’ and ‘respiratory arrest’ bounced around the inside of his head as his brain tried to translate them into something that made sense.  He could see Evelyn in the bed, shaking her head; her cheeks were wet and her face twisted up in anguish.

He heard more words that he couldn’t understand.  Some long word that didn’t make sense – that’s what the doctor said that Aiden had had.  A rare medical condition caused by a genetic mutation that no one could have predicted or prevented.  That’s what the doctor said had killed his son, an uncaught genetic mutation.  None of it made sense.  He then heard words like ‘condolences’ and ‘grief counselor,’ but these too sounded like some alien language that he had never heard before.

Everything seemed to fade further away, and Colin had to grip the leather arms of the chair to keep from falling into some dark abyss that swirled behind him.  He felt alone in the room, even though he could see Eve and the doctor only a few feet away from him.  In one brief moment, all of their joy and all of their happiness had been sucked out of the room and now all that was left was emptiness and despair. 

The doctor left the room.  Then there was silence.  Then there was nothing.

They both sat in the room, neither one of them speaking a word nor looking at the other.  There was so much that Colin wanted to say.  He wanted to go to his wife and tell her everything would be okay.  He wanted to clutch her tightly and tell her that this was all just a bad dream.  But deep down, he knew that it wasn’t.  He knew that things would never be okay again.  He knew that he would never escape this moment.  Instead of going to her, he sat on the couch, frozen, silently sobbing.