The Tales of Vast

Chapter 9: I'm Not Ready To Lose Tomorrow October 27th, 2022

              With the growing winter seasons and Halloween around the corner, the suspense of better days haunted Muslberry Peak. Rory had mostly forgotten about that terrible nightmare he had a few days back. Things had started to feel as though they could begin looking up from there until the townsfolk were sent a curveball that depleted their potential happy mood.

            "Is he going to be ok?" Rory asked softly, careful to avoid eye contact with Mrs. Anderson, who had been crying ever since her husband had been admitted to the hospital. As he was growing with age, Reginald's heart had started to worsen, and with the growing years, nobody had any hope he'd make it one more time.

              She sniffled gently, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "We're not sure, baby. We need to just let the doctors and God do their work."

              Rory had heard that same sentence a lot since yesterday when the doctors first came to pick up Reginald. Everyone kept saying that, but he wasn't sure he could believe it. He rested assured that the doctors knew what they were doing, and he did believe there was a God, but it just hurt knowing that there was nothing else they could do, but wait around.

             In the lobby of the town's small hospital, a vast majority of the town folk stopped their busy days to visit the two oldest villagers. Rory sat in one of the plastic chairs next to Elsie, and Iyo lay on the floor, with his head on Rory's feet. No one questioned it, as the ebony-haired boy preferred to lay on the linoleum than in the hard chairs. Casey Peterson stopped by about an hour before, to pay his respects, and gave Elsie some bourbon from his bar.

            Rory noticed a lot of people stopped by bearing gifts now. They'd even apologize to Rory, and tell him things will get better. He didn't understand at all. Reginald wasn't dead to begin with, he was just sick. And yes, Rory loved Anderson dearly, but why should they tell him that? He wasn't the one losing his husband; not like Mrs. Anderson.

            Instead, he sat there, watching the floor. Normally, he wouldn't have gone to the hospital to wait. He hated the hospital more than anything, and as much as he feared getting sick from how unsterile it was, he couldn't just let Mrs. Anderson endure this and wait for word of her husband's improval all by herself. Sure, she had the rest of the town here to help her, but it felt far more personal, knowing that he could be here with her through these times. Despite that little voice that had said "Rory decided it was best for his health to stay home, instead of going to the hospital" he went against that better judgment. 

            And it wasn't as if he'd have anything better to do at home anyway. Iyo had already planned their Halloween costumes previously for them both, and Rei had already decided to tend to the garden. So still, there he was, sitting in a silence so loud, he could focus on his own breathing.

           His heartbeat thumped in his ears, and he was self-aware of his chest rising and falling. Every few minutes, the nurse's heels would tap across the floor as they walked briskly down the hallways, and seldomly Iyo would shift uncomfortably, and lean on Rory's legs. Iyo hadn't handled it well when he heard Reginald was in the hospital. That morning, Rory sat next to Iyo, as the ebony cried for almost an hour. Iyo almost never cried or broke down, so Rory was more than ok with consoling him until he felt better.

              Then Iyo decided to wait with Mrs. Anderson, and Rory came with them. And so there they were.

              Slowly, Rory's eyes found their way back to searching the melancholy expression of Mrs. Anderson. Her countenance was so eerie in this sad manner, as her eyes were shiny with forced-back tears, and her lips pursed to help refrain from crying. It only made it all the more difficult for Rory to remain strong through these trying times.

             "If... It helps, Mr. Anderson is a very strong man. I'm sure he'll make it through this." He whispered, not trusting his own voice, his eyes darting away as the elderly figure looked up to meet eyes. A hush fell over the room again. His heartbeat returned, thumping in his ears.

              Tha Thump tha thump tha thump. He swallowed hard, having never been good at consoling people verbally. He understood when people needed someone to stay by their side, but when it came down to talking with them to make them feel better, he faulted them.

               Even Iyo, the non-native English speaker, would be able to console people better than Rory could. And that feeling of guilt when he genuinely thought he was helping, only to find out what he said could have made the situation worse, only hurt him even more.

               "You're a sweet boy, Rory. It's no wonder you and my Reginald always got along so well." She said softly, reaching a hand out to stroke Rory's shaking hand. He glanced up at her, clenching his jaw. Iyo shifted uncomfortably at his feet. 

                  He did always get along with Reginald. Growing up, Rory used to visit the Anderson's household, to watch Reginald work in his garden. The kind man used to put Rory in the rusted old wagon, and he'd drag him around while he tended to his land. They'd hang out for hours, and while Mr. Anderson went back inside to clean himself off, Elsie and Rory would wait on the porch on the rocking chairs, while Mrs. Anderson told him stories about her childhood.

            Those were the good memories. Rory had always been treated as if he were their grandkids; as if he were of their kin. And it felt so nice, to feel like he belonged with them. And just thinking about the way things were, only filled him with false hope.

            "If Reginald could see just how brave you two have been, he'd be so proud. You two boys are strong little souls. We all need some of that strength about now." She cooed, carefully trekking her thumb over the back of Rory's wrist. He opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn't.

            Tears pried at Rory's eyes, and he blinked a series of times to keep them back. He couldn't cry. Not now. Not while Mr. Anderson was still alive and he still had a fighting chance, and especially not while he needed to be the strong one right now. Not while his best friend was lying at his feet holding back tears. 

               He needed to be strong for Elsie Anderson and Iyo Byun if it was the last thing he would do. It was in his best interests to do so anyway, as he'd hate if any of them would try to console him, while they were the ones who were suffering. Rory could not be a bother.

            So he sat entirely still, tears choking him, trying not to cough or break. He slowly moved his hand away from Mrs. Anderson, and wrapped his arms tight around his chest, sniffling softly, shoulders shaking from forced unshed tears. He personally tried to avoid looking down at Iyo, refusing to meet those worried, pitying eyes. 

              But it hurts. It hurts so much.