“Finally,” Carole says. “Hopefully, we can get some answers about what happened and when they expect her to wake up. Simon, I’m going to step out and call Sarah and my parents. Come sit here and talk to your mom while I’m gone.”
I do as Carole asks and sit in the chair next to Mom’s bed. Carole leaves the room, and it’s just Mom and me and the ventilator. I have a hard time trying to talk out loud to her. When I open my mouth, my voice cracks, so I sit quietly with her and wait for Carole to come back.
The hours drag by and still no doctor. I’ve been to the cafeteria twice and the bathroom three times. I ate my banana, finished my homework, and texted with PJ, Mags, Neel, Paul, Latica, and Hector. I even talked with PJ on the phone once and read a few chapters in my book while Carole slept in the chair next to Mom’s bed. The light is quickly fading, and I watch the streetlamps outside turn on. Where is the doctor? I’m about to ask Carole about dinner when Aunt Sarah comes flying in the door shouting my mom’s name.
“Lindsey! Oh my God, my baby sister. How could this happen?”
Sarah is beside herself as she pushes into the small hospital room. She doesn’t appear to notice as she knocks over a cup of water and brushes papers from the bedside table. After a few moments, she looks up and acknowledges Carole and me.
“Carole, I came as soon as I could get out of work. How is she? Is she going to be okay? When will she wake up? Are they taking good care of her?”
Carole ignores Sarah’s questions and steps away from the chair next to the bed. “Here, Sarah, take my seat. I’ve been sitting way too long.”
Sarah sits and takes Mom’s arm and starts rubbing it. Carole walks over to the window and looks out at the parking lot for a while before she turns to me.
“Simon, why don’t you go to the cafeteria and get your aunt a cup of coffee, and I will fill her in on what we know so far. There are only supposed to be two visitors in the room at a time anyway. Thanks, Little Bug.”
“Okay,” I say and jump off the windowsill. I’m happy to escape the confines of the increasingly claustrophobic hospital room. Unfortunately, my happiness is squashed as I run into my uncle Brian drinking a Coke outside Mom’s hospital room.
“Hey, kid,” he leers.
“Oh, hi. I’m…um…on my way to get Aunt Sarah a cup of coffee.”
“Shouldn’t you ask me if I want something too?”
“Oh! Do you want something?”
“Nope. Don’t look so scared, kid. I’m messing with you. Can’t you see I already have a drink?”
Brian shakes the Coke can at me. He smells like pot, and a wave of nausea rolls over me. The alien awakens and wants out. Scratch, scratch, scratch.
“What’s the matter, kid? Why so jittery? I know you’re worried about your mom but don’t be. She’s a tough broad. She’ll pull through and will be just fine. Good as new. Here, have a sip of Coke.”
He pushes the can toward me, and I smell right away that it’s not just Coke. I cough, overwhelmed by the smells of pot and liquor combined with the alien attack.
Brian laughs. “Kid, you need to toughen up. You’re never gonna make it in this big bad world being so sensitive. It’s gonna eat you alive, mark my words. Here, take a drink. It will put some much-needed hair on your chest.”
He dangles the can in front of me again, and I shake my head.
“Fine, suit yourself,” he says. “But listen to me, kid, and toughen up or you’re never gonna make it out alive, and that’s a promise.”
With that he puts on a big smile and walks into Mom’s hospital room. I hear him spout his usual bullshit to Carole, so I turn and run down the hall into the bathroom. The alien wants out. I try slapping myself in the stomach again to make it stop, but it won’t go away. I’m doubled over holding my stomach when the door to the restroom opens.
“Bloody hell?” says a man with a British accent.
I look up, eyes wet with tears. My dad comes over and takes me in his arms.
“Simon, it’s all right. Your mum will be right as rain. I can feel it in my bones. You’ll see.”
I can’t remember the last time, if ever, my father gave me a hug. Surprisingly, it’s not weird, just comforting. He holds me and lets me cry for a while. My labored breathing eventually subsides, and the alien goes dormant. When I stop shaking, he lets go of me and holds me at arm’s length.
“Better now?”
I nod and wipe away my tears.
“I thought you were sick at first when I saw you, doubled over like that,” he says.
“I’m fine, Dad, but where did you come from?”
