Chapter nineteen

19.
And that's how I got there. Standing in the waiting room – waiting. I sometimes forget why it's called a waiting room in the first place. That day reminded me. It was horrible, just having to stand, or sit, expecting some news, but never getting any. Mr. Field met us at the door, and had a quiet, rushed conversation with Dad, and then he rushed off himself. And we were told to wait. There was no sight of R or Bryn, but my parents assured me they were fine, somewhere in the hospital. Probably with their dad. And even my parents didn't know all the details. They didn't even know what had happened to R's mom. All they knew was they got a phone call from John Field, saying that something, some health/cancer thing, had come up with his wife and would we please meet him at the hospital. In fact, I didn't even know why he wanted us there. Why, if all we could do was wait?
I was never a patient person. I would often jump in and do something myself if I thought whoever was doing whatever was taking too long. And those hours, the seconds and minutes, ticking off one by one while all I could do was wait, those hours were trying what little patience I did have. And I was wearing out slowly.
“When are they going to come tell us something?” I would ask (more like demand, actually) every five minutes. Mom would just shrug and sigh, Dad just kept pacing. I joined him after a while, pacing, too. But it just drove me crazy. I sat up, and I stood down, I couldn't keep comfortable. And all the time, a fear was growing through me. I had an active imagination, and I thought up all the worst scenarios, every little bad thing that could happen, and more. Of course I also imagined something good happening, something miraculous, but I didn't believe those ones. I knew they were less likely to come true. But I thought of them anyway, because good things are naturally much more pleasant to think of than bad things.
“Why can't we see them?” I asked, not for the first time.
Instead of just her usual shrug and a sigh, Mom spoke. “Look, Shane, you're being brave. And I commend you for that. But you need to be patient – a trait I should have worked on more with you, obviously. Besides, they know what's going on, and we don't. And for now, if they think it's best to leave it that way, than we're going to. We're lucky that John called us at all, if you think about it.”
I huffed, not at all happy with that. But it made sense. I sat down again from my pacing with Dad. He hadn't uttered very many words to us since Mr. Field left. I think he was worried. Well, I know he was worried, but I think he was more worried than Mom and I were. Or at least he was showing it more.
“Alan,” my mom said, making her voice soothing, “Please sit down, dear.”
He just shook his head.
“Alan-”
My dad cut her off, one of the few times I remember him getting slightly mad at my mom.
“Casey, you don't understand! I can't sit down. Not right now.” He sighed, sounding like his sharp words had deflated him instead of Mom. His tone got softer. “I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to yell. But he told me something else – something I haven't told you yet. About Barbra. They think... they think that the chemo hasn't been helping, but actually making it worse – and apparently that happens in about 50% of all cases. He gave some kind of technical word, I can't remember it right now. But he also said something about her tumor, the one in her brain. They think it's growing and dividing even faster than they had earlier thought.”
I didn't know that much about cancer, but I knew enough to know that what I had just heard was not good news. In fact, it was very, very bad news. Mom had stood up, and when she heard, she sunk back down into her chair, shaking her head and whispering “Oh, no. No.” I just turned so I was facing the wall, instead of my parents. I didn't feel like looking at them just then.
My mom had been getting to know Barbra Field in the past few months. She never cared all too much for R, sometimes forgetting his name, and always calling him Rupert. But she had grown a friendship with his mom, just like my dad was very close to John. But I always just assumed that grownup's friendships never meant much. That's why I had never taken the time to think of what a time my parents were going through. They were getting hurt much more directly than I was. Mom was friends with the very woman all this was happening to! I tried imagining what I would do if R got cancer. I couldn't. I just couldn't imagine that kind of circumstance. After all, it was hard enough for me when it was his mom with the sickness. And Dad. John was Barbra's husband. Husband and wife are close to mother and child, but still, there is a difference. And as far as I could tell, John was stressing out about the whole situation way more than his children were. And he had to be much more brave, because he couldn't just take the car, abandon town, to go smoke some cigarettes and take some drugs. He had to be strong for the whole family, not just for himself. But also for Bryn, because she needed a role model, one with strength. For R, who, however much he tried to deny it, really was hurting inside. And for his wife. For Barbra. I prayed that she would have strength also, because she really needed it the most. How could I have been so selfish? I wondered, amazed at myself. The whole family is getting affected by this, and my whole family too! How could I have thought that R and I were the ones getting it the worst? I didn't know. Sometimes I really was just plain narrow-minded.

I woke up with a start, banging my head on the wall. Where am I? What's going on? I looked, around, taking in my surroundings. I was in the hospital, still in the waiting room. I remembered being there. What I didn't remember was falling asleep.
I looked for my mom in the chair across from me, where she had been sitting before. She wasn't there. I looked for my dad, pacing up and down the floor. He was gone, too. In fact, besides I few nurses walking this way and that, I was alone. There were a few other families a ways away, but in a different section of the room. And they weren't my family, not the one I was looking for. Where had they gone? I blinked my eyes, trying to wake up completely. The clock on the wall told me it was 1:25.
1:25! In the afternoon? I had been there since 8 in the morning, so I must have slept for several hours. Oh man, this is not good. Very not good. I looked around again, like maybe I had just missed them the first time, and they would appear suddenly. I hear a door open, and jumped, looking to see if it was anyone I knew. Well, it was someone I knew, but not either of my parents.
“Aunt Jessie! What are you doing here?”
The young woman smiled at me and strode over. “Shane, it's so good to see you! Funny how we live only 45 minutes away and yet don't see each other that often, isn't it?”
I gladly gave her a hug. Aunt Jessie, my favorite aunt. My mom's younger sister. “You still didn't answer my question.”
“Oh, was there a question? Well I guess I fail the test. Come on, let's sit down, my legs are killing me from climbing those stairs in spike heels.”
I led her over to a seat and sat down next to her, twisting so I could see her face. “Yeah, I said, what are you doing here?”
“Ah, I see.” She pulled one of her shoes off, dropping the high (very high, I could see why her feet hurt) heel down on the floor.
“Aunt Jessie.”
“Yes, Shane?” She looked at me, and I stared her down.
“You still haven't answered my question.”
She smiled in a more grown-up and sad way than I was used to seeing on her. “Oh, Shane. You fell asleep, did you? I don't blame you, hon, you've had a long day. Your mom called me. Said you guys were having kind of a tough time over here and might need my help. Well, of course she didn't up and say you needed the help. No, she could never admit that she's not little miss perfect...” She was talking more to herself than to me, now. “Luckily she has a sister who is able to jump at a chance to help out her older sister. Really, you think she'd see-”
“Aunt Jessie!” I interrupted, knowing full well that if I didn't, she would just keep on going. She was like my mom in that way, but a lot more short-tempered. And a lot more immature.
“Sorry. What were we talking about?” Jessie asked.
“Why. Are. You. Here?” I said, phrasing my words sssslllooowwwlllyyy and enunciating very particularly, so I could be sure she understood me.
“Ah. Right. Just thought you might need some moral support, guy. You have it pretty tough sometimes. And who's better to help you with that stuff than your awesome aunt Jessie?” She grinned playfully, her normal mischievous smile again.
“Nobody that I can think of right now!” I played along.
“Ha. Glad you think so. Hey anyway, where are you parents?”
“I was hoping you could tell. I have no idea.”
“Well, let's fix that, then!” She stood up, marching straight over to the desk where the receptionist/nurse was. I saw them exchange a couple words, and then Aunt Jessie turned to me and winked. I just looked at her, wondering what they were saying. The nurse had left, going and turning down a hallway, out of view. Aunt Jessie just came back and sat down, across from me, silent the whole time. I tried to start asking something, but she just put her front finger of her lips, meaning “Shh!”. So, I waited.
And trust me, it was hard. More waiting. I had been waiting all day (besides the time I had been sleeping). But at least Aunt Jessie was there. Her presence did seem to calm me a little. So I sat. And sat. It was only a few minutes, but it felt like longer. That is, only a few minutes until the nurse my aunt had talked to came back, around the same corridor, and back to her desk-office thing. But this time, she smiled at Aunt Jessie, a knowing smile. Like, “Okay I'm back from my errand and I did everything to told me to do and it all went perfectly.”
I couldn't stand being in the dark, so I was about to ask another question, until I heard,
“Jessie! You're here already!” It was my mom's voice. I turned around, and there she was, my dad, too. Coming down the same hallway the nurse had come from. I deducted that the nurse had gone and gotten them.
My parents rushed up and each gave my aunt a quick hug. They were chattering, in a little circle, forgetting who I was, and that I was standing there, neglected.
“Hey!” I said, rather loudly. They all turned and looked. “Anyone care to tell me what's going on?”
My dad laughed. “You fell asleep.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, not wanting to look insolent. “Well, yeah, I know that now, Dad. But where have you been? And how are the Fields?”
Mom answered me that time. I could tell that Aunt Jessie was interested also. “We've been with the Fields. All of them. Barbra isn't exactly 'all right', but she's not dead. And sorry for leaving you alone here, but we couldn't think of any other option.”
“How about waking me up?” I asked, feeling sarcastic and kind of grumpy. That always happened to me when I woke up from a nap. I tried to get rid of the feeling.
“I tried,” Dad put in. “You were rock-solid, totally gone.”
“And snoring, too.” That was Aunt Jessie, and I knew there was no possible way that she could know that, and I was about to tell her so when she explained. “At least, I'm guessing you were. You get it from your mom.”
Mom just looked insulted, no, more like disgusted. With her little sister, I guessed. “Doesn't matter. We couldn't wake you up, any way. So we left you. Sorry about that.”
You already said that... I tried hard to get out of my mood, but couldn't. Stupidness.
“See, Mrs. Field got finished with all the procedures and stuff they were putting her through,” Mom went on, “and John called for us to go join his family. Then they told us what was happening. Her brain tumor has grown, and a few other tumors are starting to grow, too. The cancer is spreading pretty quickly. Since the chemotherapy hasn't been helping, most of the cancer cells in her body are worse now. 'More aggressive', the doctor said. So they've been trying to figure out what the best alternate method to help her would be. They talked about something with lasers, something with heat – I don't know. All that medical stuff. I didn't understand a lot of the technical terms they used. But they main thing is, Barbra will be okay for now. She's pretty tired, and probably in some pain. But when we left she was talking. The family's kind of rattled, too, but they're doing okay. Rupert wants to see you.”
I brightened at that. Good that Barbra was at least doing somewhat well. Great that R wanted to see me! “Can someone take me to him? Please?”
“Of course.” This time Mom called over, to the same nurse, and told her to please take me to so-and-so room and blah blah blah. I didn't listen, I was just happy that R wanted to see him. Happy that I could see him.
And nervous that I would mess things up by saying something stupid.
I followed the nurse down the same hallway I had seen her go before. She led me down a few more turns, until she stopped and knocked on a door, then opening it. I went in, and there they were. R, Bryn, John, and Barbra. She was in a bed, with some tubes attached to her, and her family was circled around her. I smiled, not knowing what to say. Thankfully I didn't have to say anything just yet.
“Hey, Shane! Have you been here this whole time?” Bryn asked. I nodded. “Oh, that must have been boring.” She didn't seem as stressed out as I thought she would be. That surprised me. Maybe she has been seeing a counselor, I thought, and it's been helping her.
“I'm sorry I made you wait so long, Shane.” Barbra spoke to me, her voice weak, sounding tired. She coughed a little, but besides that, she didn't look any different than what she used to. Besides all those tubes, that is. And she looked, well, frail. Fragile, somehow. Maybe it was because she had lost some weight.
“Oh, uh, it's no problem, really. I'm sure that it wasn't your fault. I mean, you couldn't really help it.” I regretted the words the second they left my mouth. I couldn't possibly be making any of them feel any better. Worse, maybe. But John just leaned over towards me and whispered, very loudly,
“I think it was a joke.”
And of course they all laughed at me. I joined in, after a while, but felt awkward, and still nervous. Luckily for me, (Thank you, R!) my best friend pulled me aside and asked if I wanted some fresh air. I just nodded, and he dismissed us out of the room. Then he walked down the hall a ways, and around another corner. I just followed him, like I had followed the nurse, hoping he knew where he was taking me. Then we went out through what looked like another lobby, and out into the air. He really did mean fresh air.
“So what's up?” R asked, turning to me.
I tried to answer without saying anything wrong. “Oh, not much. Just been sitting around in a waiting room all day, waiting. I even fell asleep. Pretty pathetic, I know.”
That made him grin. “Well, you've always been a pretty pathetic guy, Shane.”
“Aww, thanks, you flatter me!”
We stood, just grinning for a minute. Then I broke the bonding-moment by sticking my hands into my pockets.
“Man, it's cold out here.”
“Yeah, but the air sure is fresh, huh?” R replied.
For a few minutes we paced around, never leaving the small sidewalk in front of the building. Just chatting. Not even talking about his mom or anything so serious like that. Just guy talk. We talked about sports and how we hated when the weekend ended and all that stuff that people talk about when they aren't in a serious situation, just everyday life. Everyday things. And I think that's what R wanted. I don't think he wanted to talk about how he was feeling. Because, like James had said that Kyle had heard some mysterious person saying to R, people need an escape. And sometimes just plain fun, just talking, that can be a type of escape. Being normal.
After there was a slight lag in conversation, though, R said something that surprised me. “Hey Shane, uh, just, uh, thanks. Thanks for coming and stuff. And for just acting normal.”
I was pretty shocked, but said what I could. “Come on, seriously, no big deal. You're my friend, and that's just what friends do for each other. ...Can we go inside now?”
Laughing, he said yes. “I'm actually pretty cold, too. Let's go!”