The boy will live.
Gus didn’t wait. He quickly explained his mission and ran past me, telling me briefly how to get out of this maze. “Just follow the monkey,” he said, tsking and clicking his tongue at one of them. It left the others and came to sit at my feet. I looked down at its ugly, pinched face, its yellow eyes bobbing like twin moons in its head. It blinked stupidly at me. I rolled my eyes.
“Ugh! Well, lead the way,” I said.
It yawned, opened its mouth, and let out a small screech before galloping off in the opposite direction to the others. I followed, lagging, but dripping in excitement, grief, and dread.
Thank you, Apella. Thank you so much.
*****
Joseph and I held hands, standing over Orry. His tiny body thinner than just days ago. Matthew, Alexei, Pelo, Careen, Pietre, and Rash sat huddled in plastic chairs behind the curtain. I could only hear Rash, joking and making everyone uncomfortable.
I said a selfish prayer. Orry stay, rest. Don’t let the best of me go with you. I know it’s selfish, but I need you to live.
I watched Matthew add another bag of Joseph’s life-saving blood. I imagined the shreds of exploded blood cells being replaced and propped up by the healthy, plump, new ones. I thanked Apella over and over in my head as it tracked like syrup, dripping slowly down. I told Alexei how sad I was for him, for her, for Hessa. I lost track of it when it went into his tube, but I knew it was going in. I wished Deshi were here. I thought of Hessa and how lucky he was that he didn’t get sick. The relief was momentary when it dawned on me like the slap of an ice-covered branch, leaving stings and prickles in my cheek. There were so many children that would get sick. Every child created after Este took over could get sick. All of them could die. I remembered the cans of beans from when I lived in the Woodlands. It was a staple, and now it was a steady danger that would turn every baby into a ticking time bomb.
I covered my mouth. Joseph looked up at me with concern, his eyes finally warming me, the gold solid, heated like the sun. The feeling reinvented itself to be something bigger, brighter after what we’d been through. “He’s going to be ok,” he said.
I nodded. I could almost see the repair going on inside Orry. The blood cells inflating like balloons, bouncing off each other, and pumping stronger.
Joseph’s arm grasped at my waist and pulled me close, until only a sliver of light pierced through the gap between us. I didn’t look at him. I gazed at my son and, through him, I could see other sons and daughters, babies dropping, seizing, and dying. It made me sick.
I put my hand over his, tapping it gently. “What about the others? They’re not going to be ok, are they?” I said.
I think he went to say something comforting, and then bit it back. He frowned and shot out the truth like a brick through a window. “No, they won’t.”
Each time I watched the blood drip down into Orry’s IV, I saw them fall. I saw the White Coats scrambling to catch them, their hospital full of convulsing children. My mothering instinct spread wide like the wings of an eagle. I wanted to fold all of them under me, protect them, shelter them from the searing hospital lights, keep them warm and safe. But from here, I could do nothing.
I ticked my fingers against my leg, counting down a plan.
*****
We ate greedily, sitting cross-legged on the infirmary floor. Joseph and I couldn’t remember the last time we ate. So it was a cacophony of snatching fingers and wiping crumbs from mouths. Alexei joined us, and he seemed surprisingly ok. He held Hessa in his lap and joined in the conversation. Maybe it was the wait that had sent his mind spiraling so deep down a hole that we couldn’t reach him. Even though he would miss her, love her forever, at least now there was an end point. That end point was the tip of the rope, one he could use to climb out and find a new beginning.
Every now and then, someone would hop up to check on Orry. His vitals were strengthening, but he hadn’t woken up yet. Matthew said it could take a while. I was so anxious to see those funny eyes of his that I could barely contain my agitation. Rash sat on one side of me, making dancing feet from bread sticks jammed into potatoes, and Joseph sat on the other side of me, his warm hand draped over my leg. It calmed my bouncing.
We talked about Apella and Orry. Alexei told us stories about Apella, about how gangly and awkward she was when he first met her.
“So she was like you?” I giggled. Everyone laughed. I couldn’t quite picture serene, porcelain Apella as awkward.
Careen chirped up how she’d always admired Apella’s hair. I reached out to smack her, and Pietre grabbed my hand with a fierce grip. His hands were heated, his eyes as intense as always. But then it broke into a sincere expression. “She was beautiful.”
I kicked his wooden leg. “Whoops! Wrong leg.” To which I received a scathing scowl from him and a wink from Careen.
It went on late into the night, an ebb and flow of happiness and sadness. A big, soggy dough of mixed emotions. I found myself looking for Apella, waiting to see one of those rare smiles or hear her bell-like voice.
I yawned and rubbed my eyes.
Pelo, who had been fairly quiet, stood and walked around to me. He placed his hands on my shoulders protectively. “I think my daughter needs some sleep.” I let the words sit atop my head like a crown. It was strange and didn’t quite fit, but I was definitely tired. Everyone stretched and made their exits, leaving Joseph, Matthew, Pelo, and me.
“Someone needs to stay with Orry,” I said. “I’ll…”
“I’ll stay with him,” Pelo shouted before I could finish.
“But…?” Somehow, Joseph’s arm was already around my shoulders, guiding me towards the door.
I took a few steps towards the exit, so tired I would have let a monkey lead me to my room. But then I stopped.
“No,” I said. Joseph sighed at me. “I can’t leave. I’m his mother; I should be the first face he sees when he wakes up.” Those words were like a hot coal in my hands. I’d never said them before, I’m his mother. But instead of juggling it and throwing it away before it burned me, I closed my fingers around it, let it warm me, and let it brand me with its meaning. I was his mother.
Pelo threw his hands up in the air. “So stubborn,” he said with pride and he stomped out of the room animatedly. It was so strange having him in my life, and I could only trust him moment by moment. But those moments were getting longer and more significant. What I needed to let go of was that he wasn’t the father I remembered and, more importantly, he wasn’t going to run out on me.
Matthew retired to his office, where he had set up a cot. Poor Matthew. I hoped he slept tonight.
I kicked my shoes off and crawled into the bed next to Orry’s. Joseph went to climb into one of the other beds.
“Come here,” I said, patting the very narrow patch of bed left. He shrugged and lay down, facing me.
“It’s a bit tight, don’t you think?” he asked in amusement.
I wrapped my leg around him, my arm under his neck, and pulled myself closer. “Yeah, I might fall out.”
“Nah, I’ve got ya,” he said, folding his big arm around my back and under my waist.
“I know,” I whispered.
It was quiet for a while, and I could feel him relaxing and his arm going slack. I pulled up the side guard with a jerk. “But, just to be safe.”
He chuckled, and the whole bed shook. It was so good to welcome that sound back into my life.
I turned my head to the ceiling, the bars of fluorescent lights crisscrossing the rock above. I imagined them parting, the roof ripping open like a broken spider’s web, a hole revealing the sky. It was dark and blue, stars shining like pinpricks of light. Clara was up there, and she held out a hand to Apella. Shyly, she took it.