Point taken.
The scene inside is the same as usual. Jaden is on the couch, lying flat. His mom is next to him; Dad hovering nearby. Everyone looks sort of gray and drained, and it’s something I feel acutely as well. Tristan immediately takes over, which I’m grateful for, because his voice is a blur of sound.
The scene seems to run into all the other ones we’ve had here. I do my part; taking vitals and following directions, but apart from that, I’m checked out. I also do everything I can to avoid looking at Jaden’s dad, because whenever I do, the level of fury that rises up to choke me is completely disproportionate to the situation.
Jaden has dark hair and pale skin, making him look even more washed out when he’s not feeling well. He accepts all our poking and prodding with a practiced kind of stoicism. His brown eyesand set expression is serious, even while his parents seem more focused on bickering with us and each other than actually giving him any support. The sound of their voices is a constant nagging hum in the background that I can’t get rid of, so I focus my attention on the child, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.
My heart squeezes, and I’m overcome by a wave of empathy. That doesn’t happen a lot while I’m working. I’m generally good at staying detached, even on the really sad cases like little kids, especially with Tristan’s experience and support behind me. But this one just fucking gets to me every time.
He reminds me a little of Maddi, so serious and calm. Like a little adult in a tiny body. Except I can’t really picture her or Sky in his place, because no matter how little money we had, they always, always had some fucking emotional support and affection. I made sure of it. If one of them were here, I would be sitting with them and comforting them, not arguing about it.
I’m lucky I was a healthy kid at that age, despite everything. Things could have been a lot different for me.
Time passes, and it’s when Tristan is explaining his recommendations to the parents—trying to get them to come in just to be safe, while we all know there’s just no way they can afford it and the money would probably be better spent on other things—I realize what it is that’s getting to me.
He doesn’t remind me of Maddi. He reminds me of Silas. I don’t have that many memories of him at this age, because off the track he was pretty much a ghost anywhere he went, and I was already friends with all the other burnouts back in junior high. But I do remember this aspect of him. He was quiet and soft, gravely serious and totally alone, always with this air of impermanence. Like he was made out of paper and a strong wind could take him out.
I never really cared then. I guess I was too busy trying to survive, because that’s when my own wrecking ball of a father was still here, but the guilt eats at me on a daily basis.
How much better would his life have been if I’d become his friend back then, instead of waiting until it was almost too late? He probably never would have ended up at that quarry in the first place.
Now that question makes me angry, and I’m pushing it down when a deep, masculine voice breaks through my thoughts and startles me back to reality.
A flush of adrenaline hits me, and it takes a few seconds to remember that it’s not my dad getting angry, and I’m a mostly functioning adult at work right now. He’s not even mad at me, he’s getting into it with Tristan. Still, the bile at the back of my throat just from the sound of it is a weakness I don’t want to admit.
Why the fuck is everything hitting every button I have today? I’m not normally weak like this.
Get it together, Waters. Dad isn’t even here.
“Sir, you don’t need to raise your voice at me,” Tristan’s rumble breaks through my mental fog. “I’m just here to tell you what I see. I recommend that you go to the ER for an EEG and monitoring. I’m not forcing you to do anything. Jaden’s stable and not currently seizing. If you want to save yourself the ambulance bill, I get that, but please consider going yourself, or at least following up with your primary tomorrow for a check up. Do you have a neurologist yet? We talked about this.”
It’s his even-toned talking-to-irrational-patients voice, and it seems to be making things worse.
“This is why I tell you not to fucking call them all the time,” Mr. Halloran snarls at his wife. “All we get is attitude. He’s fine. Look at him. He’s not hurt. There’s no goddamn need to do any of this.”
I’m waiting for Tristan to jump in, but instead he holds up his hands and starts to back away, packing up our equipment and nudging me to follow along. I do the same thing, picking up gear mechanically and tapping in the last few notes in the iPad while my fingers have a death grip on the industrial rubber case, for some reason.
Why the fuck are we leaving? Why are we not having this fight?
“Your choice. Let me just get your signature here,” Tristan continues, thrusting his own iPad under the man’s nose as if he can’t sense the anger rolling off him.
Mr. Halloran signs, Tristan says the rest of his legally mandated spiel, and Jaden continues to stay silent, looking spaced out. His mom is just as bristled as her husband, but I get the feeling she’s waiting for us to leave so they can fight about it.
Exactly what their child needs. Another fucking fight to overhear and feel like he’s responsible for.
I’m still trying to find the words to stop all of this and make them see how neglectful they’re being when Tristan grabs my arm and drags me outside with him, all our gear in tow.
“Thank you for your time,” he calls back, like he’s a fucking waiter, or something.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I’m trying to get his attention, but he’s busy bee-lining for the ambulance like our shift is over. He doesn’t say a word as he hustles me inside, practically throwing me into the back and then following me before closing the doors behind us.
I stow my bag before sitting on the cot, looking at him with awhat-the-hellexpression.
“What was that about?”
His eyes are narrow and his gaze is sharp, like he’s daring me to lie to him. Which I couldn’t even try to do, because I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.
