Omorphi (15 page)

“Then what?”

“Then life goes on.”

“We made him laugh at lunch, and he started coughing. Could that have caused this?”

Rob smiled wide. “Ah, so that’s what happened. What made him laugh?”

Despite Michael’s frustration and worry, he took a moment to tell Rob of his awareness problem.

Rob smiled broadly. “You’re all right with Jake and Christy speaking to each other?”

“Sure. Jake’s like a brother to me.”

“Your life is about to change dramatically, Michael.”

“Why? It’s fine the way it is.”

“Christy’s isn’t, and it’s far, far different from yours.”

“Fine. He can join mine.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“You’re a breath of fresh air, Michael.”

“Doubt it. When can I see Christy?”

“I’ll check.”

As if on cue, Mother Claire entered the chapel on quick, stealth feet. “Christy is awake, Doctor, but not for long, I’m afraid.”

Michael jumped up from the hard bench and followed Rob and Mother Claire to Christy’s room.

Michael was too overwhelmed with concern to notice the extraordinary room with its antique furniture, plush carpeting, and fine draperies. Christy’s small, frail form was lost in a sea of white linen in a large, antique bed. Michael looked down at him, and his heart nearly broke in two. Christy’s hair was dark and matted with perspiration, a stark contrast to his eerily pale skin. Dark circles beneath his eyes gave him the ghostly appearance of one who had come close to death. Michael leaned over the white topography and kissed Christy’s forehead, each eyelid, and the tip of his nose. Christy’s eyes fluttered open and went wide with surprise.

“He followed the ambulance from school,” Rob offered in explanation.

Christy glanced in Rob’s direction before looking up at Michael again.

Michael brushed a damp ringlet from Christy’s forehead with the tip of a finger. “You didn’t think I’d let anyone take you away from me, did you?” He dared to lean in and hug him gently, careful of the IV line, and was pleased when Christy wrapped his arms around his neck tightly. “I gotcha. You’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” When he tried to withdraw, Christy clung to him, his hold around Michael’s neck fierce. Christy came up with him and now sat upright, still clinging to Michael. He rested against Michael’s chest, his sleepy eyes blinking slowly. Rob looked at them with fondness, and Mother Claire looked angry enough to rip Michael’s face off.

“Do you need anything before I go, Christy?”

Christy reached a hand out to Rob and gave his hand a squeeze in thanks.

“I’ll let Darien know you’ll be home in a day or two.”

Christy nodded against Michael’s chest.

Rob turned to leave, and Mother Claire snapped, “Won’t Mr. Sattler be leaving with you, Doctor?”

Rob turned back, thoughtful. “I think Christy would be grateful if Michael could stay for a while.”

Christy nodded again.

Mother Claire was on the verge of exploding. “Very well, Doctor. I’ll get a chair for Mr. Sattler.”

Christy shook his head and pointed a wavering finger at a reclining chair in the corner of the room.

“You want me to sit there?” Michael asked.

Christy nodded.

Michael began to withdraw, and Christy continued to hold fast to him. “Do you want to sit in the chair with me?”

Christy nodded.

“I’m afraid we can’t allow Mr. Castle out of bed, Mr. Sattler. He must sleep.” Mother Claire all but spat the words.

“That chair looks big enough for both of us. He can sleep in my lap,” Michael offered.

“Mr. Sattler—”

“I think that’s a fine idea,” Rob interjected.

Mother Claire’s face became a pruned mask of disapproval as she glared at Rob. If looks could kill, he would have died a thousand times over.

I win, Mother Witch
. Michael carefully lifted Christy from the bed. His hospital gown gaped in the back and revealed that he was nude save for the gown. Michael freed one hand and wrapped half the gown around him to cover his backside. Rob guided the IV pole to the recliner, and Michael followed. He sat slowly, and Christy curled against him.
Man, Christy is so freakin’ small
. Rob pulled the white quilt from the bed and carefully laid it over them. Michael tucked it around Christy, making sure everything but his head was covered. Rob retrieved Christy’s pad and pen from his backpack and set them on the table next to the chair.

“Call if you need anything, Michael.”

“Will you put your number in my phone, please?” Michael dug it from his pocket beneath the cocoon that was Christy and handed it to Rob.

“Thank you for coming along with Christy,” Rob said as he stored his number and returned the phone to Michael. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Michael said as he hugged Christy to him. After Rob and a livid Mother Claire left the room, Michael made a quick call. “Hey, it’s me.”

“Where the hell are you, man?” Jake’s irritation was plain in his tone.

“Mercy Hospital with Christy. Listen, I need you to tell Coach that I won’t make practice today.”

“No problem, bro. I saw the ambulance. What happened?”

“Christy had sort of an asthma attack.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine.”

“When are you going to be home?”

“Probably around eight. Call me after your black-tie thing.”

“You got it. Later.”

Michael quickly dialed his mom, got her voice mail, and left a message letting her know where he was. He set the phone on the small side table next to Christy’s pad and pen and began to talk. Softly, rhythmically, he emulated his father’s reassuring voice as he told Christy of chasing the gurney down the hallway at school and of his fury when the EMT wouldn’t let him ride in the ambulance. He spoke of following the ambulance in his car and arriving at Mercy and probably scaring the crap out of Mother Claire when he demanded to see Christy. He told of his renewed fury when she wouldn’t give him any information because he was only a boyfriend. Only then did Christy lift his head and look up at him through unfocused, drug-laden eyes.

“Boyfriends don’t count,” Michael assured bitterly. He dared to draw Christy’s wild mane back and kiss his forehead. “It sucked.”

Christy laid his head to rest again and, when his breathing evened and deepened, Michael knew he’d fallen asleep. “I’ll be here when you wake,” he reassured the air around them.

He reclined the chair and drifted off, holding his pretty Christy in his arms.

M
ICHAEL
woke with a start to Christy fighting imaginary monsters and babbling in something other than English. His voice was deep and thick and, to Michael, seemed entirely wrong for the small body that housed it. Michael caught Christy’s flailing wrists in his hands and tried to comfort him, to no avail. Christy fought Michael’s grasp and wouldn’t wake from the dream. Michael could only presume the drugs caused the nightmare to hold fast. He finally yelled, “Christophoros Tryphon Alexis Castle! Wake up!”

Christy froze, and his unfocused eyes darted around the room before settling on Michael.

“You okay?”

Christy nodded groggily and collapsed against Michael’s chest. Michael rubbed his back in long, slow strokes, and Christy’s pounding heart and trembling slowed. “Do you want me to call a nurse?”

Christy shook his head as Mother Claire entered the room looking as if she’d swallowed a lemon.

“He had a nightmare,” Michael explained quickly.

She checked Christy’s vital signs and the IV bag. “I understand that you are Dr. Sattler’s son.”

“Yes,” Michael answered warily.

“Then you know you shouldn’t be here,” she said curtly.

Believing discretion to be the better part of valor, Michael bit back the sarcastic remark that threatened to fly off his tongue. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see the visiting hours posted. What are they?”

“We do not have visiting hours, Mr. Sattler. When will you be leaving?”

“When Christy wakes up.”

“He may not wake until morning. Let us return Christy to bed.” She began to remove the quilt that covered them, and Christy jerked it from her hands. Mother Claire’s glare of disapproval became toxic, and Michael was certain you had to take a special class to know how to do that. Evil looks intended to frighten and intimidate 101, offered exclusively at nasty nun academy. “Mr. Sattler, 8:00 p.m. You’ll be leaving at 8:00 p.m.”

We’ll see about that, Mother Witch
. “Okay.”

Mother Claire left the room, her silent departure a deafening, noxious clap on the air. He rubbed Christy’s back again. “Go back to sleep.”

“Michael?”

Michael’s heart soared at the sound of his name leaving Christy’s lips. As with their first kiss, the moment would remain indelibly imprinted on his mind. Christy’s voice was clearer now, and Michael thought he heard an accent. “Don’t use your voice.”

“Stay.” Christy coughed, the single word clearly a struggle for him.

“I’m not going anywhere. Go back to sleep.”

Christy tried to speak again and coughed again.

“Do you want to write?”

He shook his head and settled into Michael’s chest once again.

M
ICHAEL
next woke to his cell phone vibrating. He reached for it, careful not to wake Christy. “Yeah,” he answered sleepily.

“I’m on my way up, bro.”

“What? You’re here?”

“Yeah, see you in a sec.”

Michael hung up and stretched awkwardly with Christy in his lap. Christy stirred but didn’t wake. A few minutes later Jake, followed by yet another unhappy nun, stepped through the door decked out in a tuxedo complete with tails and red satin cummerbund.

“Thank you, Sister Caroline,” Jake offered politely. The nun left in silence, her anger a haughty cape trailing on the air behind her. “Hey, how’s he doing?”

“Okay, I think. How did you get past Mother Witch?”

Jake scratched his head. “I lied. Told her I was one of Dr. Sattler’s interns and had a private message for his son.”

“Impersonating a doctor at a medical facility? My dad’ll love that when he hears about it.”

“Dr. S will back me up.” He held up a bag from Uncle Mike’s Takeout, and Michael realized he was starving. “Oh my God, Jake, you’re the best. What time is it?”

“Around eight.” He set the food and two lemonades on the bedside table. “Are you hungry, Christy?”

“He’s awake?”

Christy nodded against Michael’s chest.

“You hungry?”

Christy toggled a hand and sat up. His hair had blown up in the hours they slept, and he looked like an Einstein lion.

“Your hair is out of control, man.”

Christy nodded and tried to smooth it down with one hand.

Michael held Christy to him and lowered the recliner slowly. Christy began to rise, and Michael stopped him. “Oh no you don’t. I gotcha. Jake, push this IV pole over to the bed.”

Michael carried Christy to the bed as Jake guided the IV pole behind them. He packed pillows behind Christy’s back and tucked the blankets around him. “How do you feel?”

He mouthed, “Fine.”

“Ah, the last time you said you were fine, an ambulance kidnapped you.”

Christy smirked and looked around for his pad and pen. Michael retrieved them and handed them to him.

Christy scribbled
Fine but tired
.

“That’s more like it.” Michael slipped his shoes off and climbed onto the bed to sit next to Christy. Screw what Mother Witch would think if she walked in. The burgers smelled delicious. “Jake, you’re racking up the points. I’m starving.” Michael set a burger and a bag of fries before Christy, and Christy opened the burger and began to remove the onions.

“You don’t like onions?” Michael asked.

Christy set the burger down and wrote
Bad for breath
.

Michael stopped chewing and swallowed his onion-laden bite. “Nothing a toothbrush can’t fix.”

Christy shrugged a shoulder and began to pull minute pieces from the burger and chew them carefully before swallowing. An ache filled Michael’s heart. He couldn’t imagine trying to recover from a neck injury as severe as Christy’s.

A nurse entered the room silently, and Jake stepped out of her way as she went to check Christy’s IV bags. Given her white uniform, Michael guessed she wasn’t a nun-type nurse.

“Hi,” Michael ventured. She smiled at him. She actually smiled. Feeling a little like he’d escaped purgatory, he ventured further. “What’s oxygen saturation?”

“The amount of oxygen contained in one’s bloodstream,” she answered politely.

“Can you tell if Christy’s is okay?”

She searched the side of the IV pump and found a small contraption on its own line. Christy automatically held a finger up. She clipped the clothespin type device to the tip of his finger, and it shone bright red with light.

“It looks okay to me, but we’ll have to see what the doctor says.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

She smiled sweetly as she removed the little gadget from Christy’s finger, lifted Michael’s hand, and clipped it to his finger. “Oh my, aren’t you full of it? It’s no wonder Mother Claire isn’t happy with you.”

Jake stifled a laugh, and Michael found himself at a complete loss for words. “Ah, yeah, I guess,” he sputtered.

Christy started to laugh.

“Hey, hey, hey, none of that. That’s what got you into trouble in the first place.”

“Laughing did this?” the nurse was disbelieving.

“Ah, maybe.”

She put a hand to the side of Christy’s neck, and then to his forehead, and winked at them as she left the room as silently as she came.

“She seems nice.”

Christy scribbled
Anna doesn’t like Mother Claire
.

“What’s to like?”

Christy smiled wide and stifled a laugh with a hand over his mouth.

“So, Christy, how’s it going? You gave us quite a scare,” Jake asked.

Christy toggled a hand in a so-so motion.

Michael set his burger down and reached for a seasoned fry and watched as Christy squashed a fry between thumb and forefinger before eating it. “How’d you figure out where this place is, Jake?”