Flipped

1.12

My mom arrived home a few minutes later, and found me curled up on my bed. I had to tell her the whole story again, and explain how I wasn't allowed to ride in the ambulance. I didn't have a car, like many of my friends, because my mom couldn't afford one and I was still saving up. I told her that my dad had been there, because he wanted to talk to me and apologize. I didn't think she would appreciate knowing that he tried to turn me against her, and I just couldn't bring myself to tell her that. Maybe later.

She seemed a little shaken up, but not distraught like I was. I guess it made sense. She was no longer in love with this man, and she wasn't dealing with my strange sense of guilt.

She was bracing herself.  After not having seen my dad for years, I guess that isn't surprising.

"You're coming with me," my mom said as she left my room.

I hesitated. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. You do," she said from the hallway. "I need you there, Chris."

I got ready, we hopped in the car and took off toward the hospital. It was the largest hospital in the city: big stone, blocky 1970's architecture with trees spread sparsely across the gigantic patch of land around the building. Emergency vehicles lined up to one side of the emergency wing. We parked and walked toward the entrance. An elderly man was being wheeled in by a younger teenager about my age. Inside the front lobby there was a large courtyard and a fountain with a tree in the middle which extended to the roof. It almost looked a bit like a mall.

We got directions to B-38, the room where my dad was, and took an elevator up to the fourth floor. It took some walking to get to the 38th room. We walked inside, past two other patients, separated from each other by the sort of hospital curtains you see in movies and finally arrived at his bed.

He didn't look too bad. Bandages were all over his left side and it was clear that he was in pain. But he was awake and gave us a shaky smile.

My mom was ice. "Hi, Brian."

"Hi Naomi," he said, far more relaxed. "How have you been?"

"I've been fine," she said shortly. "So what happened?"

"I just wanted to see Chris of course." He smiled at me but I just stared. There was no way I was supporting this creep. "And you too," he said, almost as if it was an afterthought.

"I'm sure," my mom said. She was calm and solemn. "What happened afterwards? Are you sure you're okay?"

He shook his head. "Honestly, I have no idea what happened. I was talking to Chris, giving him some advice, and then suddenly, I had this strong need to feel pain. I've never felt anything like it. Actually.."

He sort of trailed off. He was staring right at me.

I started to feel a creepy feeling on the back of my neck. It was a look of pure suspicion.

He didn't say anything for a few long seconds. He just let the silence sit, his eyes giving off an intensity that seemed to pierce inside my soul.

I froze. What else could I do? I could hear the beeping of some breathing machine on the other side of the room.

And then, slowly, in a different voice. "It seemed almost as though the drive to feel pain was coming from you Chris."

I grimaced. Involuntary. Then I laughed. Which was probably not even appropriate, but I just couldn't help it. "Are you okay?" I almost snorted. "I'm actually not so sure."

He smiled a little, but didn't laugh along with me. "Yeah, I guess it is a little crazy, Chris. But what I said bothers you. Why are you uncomfortable?"

My heart was hammering in my chest. How could this be happening? In his eyes I saw the puzzle pieces snapping into place. I knew that there was nothing I could say. Anything I said would be worse than silence. And so I stared at him. And waited, staring. I was aware of my mom out of the corner of my eyes, feeling the tension in the room, standing awkwardly beside me.

And then, slowly, "I'm confused. What are you talking about?"

A second more, and then he laughed lightly. "Nothing, Chris. Just pulling your leg. Anyways, yeah, it looks like I'm fine. Thanks so very much for checking in."

My mom wished him the best and we left the hospital. She hadn't seen him since he had left all those years ago, but I knew that my mom wouldn't grovel and try to catch up. She knew better.

And I knew better, too. Because as he had laughed it off and ushered us out, I had caught the twinkle in his eye. I knew what it meant.

I know what happened. And I'm not going to forget.