You wrote "Don't Forget"

Chapter 17- Hello Darkness My Old Friend

Logic had run off into a land I couldn't enter. Panic had become a permanent resident of my brain. I tried to get my mind to focus on the question of the hour - what now? But that question scared me, that question brought up unpleasant thoughts which weighed heavy on my brain and anchored it down to the deepest and darkest depths of the sea. That question brought with it other questions - what if it's too late? I was aware that until I took initiative this panic would remain in my brain, rattling the windows and blowing out all the lightbulbs, it would remain there singing a cacophonic wake-up call over and over again.

"You have to go and see him." Alejandro said, his voice parting through the dense fog which surrounded my brain. In that moment, I deeply detested him like one detests a sound which wouldn't let one sleep, like one detests good advice which while knowing it's right seems particularly hard to follow. I knew he was right but I didn't want him to be right. Then, as quickly as it had come, the feeling of unadulterated hatred passed away, replaced by feelings I couldn't give a name to because I was afraid that calling them by their true name meant admitting that I was vulnerable.

"I know," I told him, finally parting myself from his chest. The tears had calmed down but in their wake, they left my body trembling like it was being consumed by periodic earthquakes.

There was a deep sinking feeling in my chest. There was something comforting about not knowing. When you didn't know, the possibilities were endless. He could be alive. He could be alive.

He is alive. He is alive.

Finally, with shaking hands I grabbed my phone. I dialed the seldom dialed number for the first time in a few years. I closed my eyes as it rang, aware of every beat of my heart hammering against my chest.

He is alive. He is alive.

The line rang, it's ringing adding a somber note to the impossibly loud beating of my heart. A thin drop of sweat trailed down the side of my face as I let the darkness behind my closed eyelids consume me.

"We're sorry; we are unable to complete your call as dialed. Please check the number and dial again, or call your operator to help you."

I opened my eyes and blinked. Him not picking up could mean a million things, things I shuddered to even think about.

"Call his secretary, if he's in the hospital I don't think he would have his cell with him." Alejandro chimed in, noticing the distress evident on my face. Once again, Alejandro had become the voice of reason, swatting away my irrational fears with his rational advice.

I took in a deep breath and dialed Dad's secretary, Justin.

"Hello?" Justin received the call on the third ring.

"Justin, it's me, Tristan. Is Dad with you?" I asked, trying my level best to keep myself from stuttering.

"Tristan!" Justin said, as if a wave of relief washed over him. "I was wondering when you'd call. No, Mr. Williams is not with me at the moment but he told me to let you know where he was if you called. He's admitted at the NewYork-Presbyterian."

"He's admitted here in New York? Not Chicago or Washington or Los Angeles?" I exclaimed.

"He insisted, Tristan. He insisted that he be close to you." I could practically hear Justin giving me a sad smile. It took a moment for the words to register - my father wanted to be close to me. I let out a breath.

"Thank you, Justin." I said, because I didn't know what else to say.

"You're welcome, Tristan. And Tristan, do hurry."

A wave of dread washed over me at his last words. I didn't have much time and I had wasted so much of it already.

"I'll drive." Alejandro said simply when I turned to look at him. I nodded. After adjusting a button and trying to practice how to keep a straight face in the mirror at least ten times, I let Alejandro take my hand and guide me to the car.

The car was still soaked with the familiar scent of strawberries. Usually the scent relaxed me and made me feel at home, today it felt foreign and distant. I struggled to sit still on the ride to the hospital, I fumbled here and there in my seat, from this side to that. My eyes refused to settle on one thing in particular, they travelled from Alejandro sitting comfortably in his seat to the fading light of the afternoon Sun penetrating the glass windows.

It felt like a moment in which I needed an anchor again. I looked at Alejandro wondering if he could sense the storm threatening to tear me apart, wondering if he would offer me his hand and hold me before I fell apart. His eyes met mine, he offered me a smile of comfort and he turned his head back towards the road.

Of course, he hadn't sensed it, it wasn't like he could read my mind. I could just tell him but this felt like something which one knows without being told, it loses its values once it's captured within the constraint of words.

The car stopped in front of the hospital and I rushed out of it. It felt like I would suffocate if I stayed inside the vehicle for a single second more. I ran towards the entrance, Alejandro was still taking care of the parking.

"Wait a minute, will you?" He shouted from behind me as he tried his best to nudge the car in between two others. I barely listened, I was inside the building.

Like a deer caught in headlights, I stood there inside the building, momentarily lost as to what to do next. Then, I told my heart to calm down and walked towards the reception.

The lady behind the front desk peered at me with a small smile, "How can I help you, sir?" she asked.

"I'm here to visit someone. Is a Mr. Henry Williams admitted here?" I asked, trying to look as stone-visaged as possible.

The receptionist punched in a few keys on her keyboard and then turned to look back at me again, "Yes, he's in room 203, second floor. May I ask how you are related to the patient?"

"I'm his son, Tristan Williams." I murmured. It had been years since I had referred to myself as his son. The receptionist picked up a telephone and made a call, I tapped my foot in anticipation. My eyes wandered to the low ceiling up above and the wide array of people gathered in different chairs in the waiting rooms.

Finally, she dropped the telephone receiver back in its place and met my eyes. "You are free to go, sir." she said and pointed out the direction of the elevator.

At that very moment, Alejandro walked through the entrance doors and joined me. On the way up to the second floor, I slid my hand into Alejandro's. He squeezed my hand.

The elevator doors opened and after a bit of searching we found Room 203.

I stood before the door, my heart thumping in my chest. Alejandro's hand felt cold in mine, the warmth that I longed for was gone. I blamed the air conditioning. Then, after another squeeze from Alejandro I walked to the door and opened it.