The Time Until (4 page)

I’ve done this just about every night for the
past month and I still can’t get used to the height.
 
Sam’s brilliant idea is for us to sneak out
at night to see each other.
 
After a
month of climbing out my window and down the tree next to my room, I’ve
actually started to think this plan is a good one.
 
We meet at the park down the street from both
of our houses – Sam is on the other side of the park from me.

I have to cross a major street in the middle of
the night to get to the park.
 
It scares
me sometimes since it seems like people don’t notice the stop sign at the
intersection. It’s not a really big problem since I always look both ways —
something my mother drilled into my head.

As I get to the crosswalk, Sam is waiting for
me on the other side.
 
She’s cradling her
arm, but smiling so big it’s almost noon.
 
I can never resist grinning when I see that look.

She definitely does something to me.

Which is why I completely
ignore my mother’s advice.

I wave at her as I cross the street and she
starts to wave back when I hear the screeching of tires making me turn and
look.
 
Before I even know what’s
happening, I feel myself rolling over the hood of the car and off the windshield.
 
I’m not even human anymore, I feel like a
giant lump of pain.
 
I can’t move, and
frankly, I don’t want to.
 
I just want to
stare at the sky for a long time.

I hurt everywhere.

“Al!” Sam appears in front of me, crying.
 
I want to reach up and wipe the tears away or
even let her know that everything is alright, I just need to rest for a little
while, but for some reason my body isn’t listening to me.
 
I try to talk to her but my mouth doesn’t
open.
 
Everything aches.

“Oh my God!
 
Is he alive?” a man exclaims. I think he’s
the driver of the car.
 
Of course I’m
alive.
 
The misery I’m in proves
that.
 
Sam is my voice on this one
though.

“Yes!
 
He’s alive!” Sam yells at him. “He can’t die. He can’t…” She starts to
sob and the man pulls out his phone.

“You can’t leave me too, Al.” Sam whispers in
my ear. “I need you.”

“You’re mine remember,” she continues to plead
squeezing me tighter, “you are not allowed to leave me alone.”

I want to tell her that I’ll never leave her
and the misery on her face causes me more pain than anything I’m going through
right now.
 
The pain is preventing me
from speaking and moving. The air is cold and I can feel it getting colder
despite all the pain my limbs are in.
 
I
hear Sam sobbing, but she sounds really far away and the sky seems to get
darker.
 
Each star blinking out as the
blackness of night swallows it up.
 
I try
to stay wake, but it’s very hard to do.
 
My eyelids grow heavier and heavier as my vision starts to fade.

Slowly the pain subsides and darkness surrounds
me.

“She wouldn’t leave his side at all.
 
We had to sedate her when he went into
surgery.” Who is that?

It’s really hard to breath, but at least I’m
not in as much pain as I was before.
 
I
try to adjust my uncomfortable position, but something is holding me in
place.
 
Opening my eyes, I blink a couple
of times to adjust to the light.

Sam is sleeping in the bed with me, a death
grip on my hand.
 
I smile at her – I
didn’t know she sucks her thumb when sleeping. I think it’s kind of cute.
 
Her arm is in a sling, I’ll find out about
that later.
 
Trying to move again awakens
Sam.
 
She smiles at me and I smile back.

“Hey.” It’s the only thing I can think of to
say. Sam’s eyes grow big.

“ALAN!” Sam yells as she wraps me in a bear hug
that sends fresh pangs of pain through my body.
 
I’m enjoying the attention she’s giving me, so I don’t grimace – too
much. Sam’s outburst catches the attention of the other people in the room: a
doctor, some nurses, my parents, my older brother James, and Nate.
 
They stand around me with concerned looks on
their faces.

“How you feeling, Son?”
I try to shrug, but pain doesn’t allow it.

“I hurt all over.” That gets the desired
chuckle from him. I can see my parents fidget and I know they have something to
say to me.
 
I give them a look to tell
them to go ahead and ask.
 
My father,
John, clears his throat.

“Why were you both out at that time of night?”
Nate and my mom get stiff.
 
I’m pretty
sure they know the answer, but want to hear from us. It’s Sam who answers.

“You’re taking him away,” she accuses everyone
in the room, even the medical staff that has nothing to do with it. I know
exactly why she’s so upset–it made me happy, but sad.
 
After what happened to her mom, she started
leaning on me more and I allowed her.
 
I
enjoyed the attention she gave me and didn’t want to see it disappear.
 
I started thinking of it as actual love.

Knowing it’s not is depressing.

“You said we couldn’t see each other anymore,”
I clarify, “so we started to meet up in secret.
 
Sam saw it in a movie or something.” Nate seems to understand.

“We’ve done it every night for a while now,”
Sam adds.
 
Realization causes my parents’
eyes to widen.

“You can’t take my best friend away,” I plead
with them, “you just can’t.” Nate is nodding his head and my parents seem to
understand a bit more.
 
After a long
silence, my dad sighs.

“We wanted to separate you two for a more than
selfish reason,” he starts.
 
Sam grips my
arm tighter. “I got a promotion at work.
 
They want us in Houston in one month.” It takes me a minute to
comprehend what my dad just said to us.
 
Sam is faster; she starts tearing up and whispering, “No.”

I’m going to be moving away. Not just moving,
but moving across country. That’s too far.
Very, very too
far.
My tears fall unchecked. Sam’s embrace gets stronger.
 
It’s almost like she’s trying to make me stay
by holding me here.
 
I get sadder just
thinking about it.

“We’ll talk about it later,” my mom says as she
grips my foot. “You get some more rest.” Nate reaches to grab Sam and her grip
tightens — I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m definitely wrong.
 
She buries her face into my shoulder and
refuses to budge. I look around at the room and notice that they don’t seem too
surprised by this.
 
I smile and place my
hand on her head, petting her until she calms down.
 
Nate abandons his attempt to take her.

“She can stay.
 
She doesn’t bother me at all,” I tell them. “She’ll be easier if you
leave her, just
ask the doctor
.” I can see the
disapproval in my parent’s eyes.

“Please,” I beg. Their expressions soften.

“I think that’s okay, I’ll be staying with him
tonight anyway,” my mom agrees with a slow nod.
 
My dad comes and rubs his hand over my head messing my hair up.

“Where did my little boy go?” He leans down and
kisses the top of my head. “All I see is an old and wise man.” I crack a small,
proud smile.
 

“I’m just going to see them out and get a cot
for the room, I’ll be right back,” my mom tells me with a kiss to my
forehead.
 
James comes up, grips my
shoulder and softly pats Sam’s head.

“You scared me shitless lil’ bro,” he says with
a smile, “you just learned your first life lesson. Girls will kill ya,” he
finishes with a laugh.
 
One final hug and
he follows my parents out the door.

“You take care of my baby, Son.” Nate points at
me. I smile larger and nod my head. Sam and I are alone. We both remain silent
for a while.

“How did you hurt your arm?” I ask.

“I fell out of the tree next to my window. The
doctor says I broke my collar or something,” Sam answers. She broke her collar
and still went to meet me? Somehow, I’m not all that surprised by it. It’s definitely
something Sam would do.
 

Nothing keeps her from doing something she sets
her mind to doing.

“I thought you were dead,” Sam breaks the lull
in the conversation with barely a whisper. I squeeze her tighter.

“Not before you,” I tell her. “I would never
leave you alone.” Sam nods her head slowly.

“I’m yours, remember?
 
Nothing can change that.”

Sleep comes easily for both of us.

Present Day

I’ve slept most of the day after the accident and
now the doctor is here to discuss what he did during my surgery.
 
It’s a lot of medical jargon — Souter’s
Prosthesis this, Talwalkar Nail that — I tune him out mostly.
 
I’m more interested in when I can start
getting out of bed and seeing Sam.
 
My
parents are listening to him intently, the x-rays horrify my mother, and my dad
seems almost interested.
 
I think he
mentioned that he wanted to be a doctor at one point.
 
I wonder what happened to that dream.

He’s been talking for what seems like hours and
the frustration is killing me.

Shut up
already!

“Yes, yes.
 
We all know you’re a great doctor,” I interrupt his speech about my
missing eye.
 
There’s nothing important
there; I know all that anyway.

“I want to know how long I have to be stuck in
this bed.” I’m extremely irritated at this point.

Where the
hell is this anger coming from?

“Alan Rodnam Green!” I hate when they use my
middle name like that. It makes me cringe. “You apologize right this instant.”
My mother stomps her foot for emphasis.
 
It has the desired affect and my anger slowly retreats.
 
I drop my head and fiddle my thumbs.

“Sorry.” I barely whisper.

“Good.”

“But I really want to know.” God, I sound like a
pathetic groupie wanting to know when the band’s coming on.

Desperate.

“I need to know.” I say softer.

Yep, definitely pathetic.

“There’s no way to tell how long you have to stay
in bed,” the doctor sighs. “The pain should subside in a few days, but the
hardware in your arm will have to stay in for a few weeks.”

So I have a few days in this bed?
 
Great.
 
I’m going to die of boredom and anticipation.
 
Then I have a thought and look up at the
doctor.

“What about a wheelchair?” I ask. “Can’t I go and
see her in a wheelchair?”

The doctor raises one of his eyebrows.

“You could,” he starts, “but honestly you
shouldn’t be moving that much.
 
Your body
needs to heal and you moving at all
is
not going to
help you heal any faster.”

So that’s a no.
 
That’s all you had to say.
 
I
shoot him an irritated glare.

Asshole.

I really need to get this thing in check.
 
I have no idea why I’m irritated at this guy
right
now,
he’s only doing his job and trying to help
me heal. Though, for some reason, I really want to beat the shit out of
him.
 
It’s like he’s trying to keep me
from Sam.

He’s the one who made me like this.

No.
 
No.
 
I take a deep breath and try
to swallow the swell in my chest.
 
I
really need to get a grip.
 
I take
another deep breath, one more
swallow
, and the heat
behind my ribs starts to shrink.
 
One
final breath and it’s gone.

Good to know that breathing helps.

“There is some good news though,” the doctor says.

I still.
 
Is
it about Sam?

“You can take your arm out of the sling
tomorrow.”
 

He should have kept his mouth shut.
 
My frustration is growing again.

 
“Thank
you,” is all I can mutter — through my clenched jaw — without giving the swell a
foothold.
 
This is a full time job, but
it’s easier to shove it back this time.

The doctor nods slightly and leaves the room,
stopping briefly to whisper to my dad about something.
 
My dad nods and the doctor exits.

The silence between my parents and I is
deafening.
 
I really wish they would
leave.
 
I love my parents, but they’re
getting annoying with all their worrying and hovering.
 
I just want to be alone for a while.

“Hey, my arm is starting to hurt again and it’s
about time for my meds.”

Subtle, Alan,
real subtle.

My mom looks hurt and my dad comforts her, but
neither of them
call
me on my attitude.
 
I’m definitely the biggest jerk ever at this
point.

“You’re right.
 
Of course.
 
It’s getting late as well,” she babbles. “We should be going.”

All I can do is nod.
 
Each one of my parents gives me a kiss and a
hug, and then leaves the room.
 
I may not
have been lying about my arm hurting, but I feel like it.
 
I used it as an excuse to get rid of my
parents.
 
My arm is always hurting —
despite the painkillers — it’s not like that fact is going to change just
because they leave.

A nurse comes in a few minutes later and adds the
pain medication to the IV and the pain in my arm starts to subside.
 
She gives me a comforting smile when I let
out a content sigh.

“Does your arm hurt a lot?” she asks as she
removes the syringe from the IV.
 
I shake
my head.

“Not really,” I answer, “just everything all
together.”

She nods with a knowing smile and pats my arm.

“It’ll get better.
 
You just have to give it a little time.” I don’t really believe her
words, but I nod anyway.
 
She leaves the
room as I slowly fall in to a medicated slumber.

10 Years Ago (Age 10):
 
August

Sam and I have been inseparable since I got out
of the hospital.
 
I’m not complaining; I enjoy
the attention.
 
The only problem with
everything is the tension.
 
We both know
that I’ll be moving soon and that has put a huge damper on our time together.
 
It’s sad and scary.
 
I have no idea what I’m going to do without
Sam around.
 
She’s been my best friend
for almost five years and I can’t imagine trying to find a new best friend,
especially one as good as Sam is to me.

We hear my mom banging around in the kitchen
getting lunch ready, humming to
herself
.
 
I wonder what’s causing her to be so happy.
 
She hasn’t packed anything at all today and
lately she’s been a packing demon.
 
She’s
been constantly yelling and commanding, supervising the entire process.
 
I’ll admit it; I’ve hid in my closet on more
than one occasion in fear of the demon who packs.

But she’s not packing now.

“Alan and Samantha,
it’s
lunch time,” she calls.
 
Sam and I take
our positions at the table and eat our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while
my mom cleans the counters.
 
She’s still
humming; Sam and I share a look.

“Why are you so happy, Mom?” I have to
ask.
 
She’s been so moody lately,
snapping at every little thing, that the happy change is jarring.
 
She turns around with a giant smile on her
face.
 
It freaks me out that she’s so
happy right now.

“I’ll let your father explain,” she answers,
“he’ll be here soon with Nate.”

As if on cue, my dad and Nate walk through the
front door.
 
They both have the same kind
of smiles on their faces.
 
Sam and I
share another look and I can tell we’re thinking the same thing.

What are they up to now?

“Good, you’re all here,” my dad exclaims when
he enters the room.
 
I scoot closer to
Sam and casually take her hand.
 
I have a
feeling this is going to be good news, but you can never tell.
 
What’s good news to adults isn’t always good
news to us.
 
After taking a deep breath,
my dad explains about the smiles.

“We are NOT moving,” he emphasis’ the word
‘not’ for effect.
 
It takes a moment for
my brain to comprehend what he just said.
 
I’m not moving
,
that’s the best news I’ve heard
in — well forever.

“The company decided, after a bit of convincing
by myself and Nate, that I could be a better asset here and commute to Houston
a couple of times a month,” he goes on to explain.

“So that means we can stay here?” I have to ask
to make sure I didn’t mishear him.
 
He
nods his head wildly, smiles all around.
 
I look to Sam and see her crying her little eyes out, whispering about
how good it is that
I’m
staying.

Sam plants a colossal kiss on my cheek and all
the blood rushes to my face.

I smile the biggest smile I can and pull her
into an immense bear hug.