The Pact(103)

“Excuse me,” the hawk-eyed nurse, I think her name is Andie, appears at the door. “Visiting hours are over. He needs to rest.”

I look to James in a panic. “Where is Steph?”

“I think maybe with Bram,” James says. He looks at the nurse. “Anyone else out there? The girl in the grey sweater, dark hair?”

She shakes her head. “No one. Please, sir, come on. You can come back tomorrow.”

James looks back at me. “Sorry man. I’ll see if we can stay another day. She said she can’t afford to close the shop, so…”

So she’s going to go home. Hell, it was a miracle she even came at all.

“Anything you want me to tell her?” James asks.

I shake my head gently. “No.” Because everything I want her to know, I have to say myself. Only now I won’t be able to.

“Hey, again I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to lay this all on you. But I wanted you to know that I fucked up and I’m going to try and be a good friend again. I really fucking miss you, bro. It’s not the same anymore.”

I don’t know what to think or what to say so I only nod. “Tell Steph…” tell her what? “tell her I’m glad she came.”

“Will do buddy.”

And even though I don’t feel comfortable with calling James my buddy anymore, I do feel another pinch of loss when he leaves.



***



“Linden,” I hear a female voice calling me. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

It’s not the female voice I was hoping for.

I slowly open my eyes. Sun is pouring in through the hospital room windows. My mother is at my bedside, sitting on the chair. Her hand, a skinny, pale hand with crepe paper skin, rests on my arm.

There is no one else in the room. We are alone.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve been alone with my mother.

“Mum,” I say thickly. I try and sit up.

“Shhhh,” she says, pressing her hand into me. “Don’t move.” I can smell alcohol on her breathe, no surprise, but her eyes are clear. She seems with it.

She seems concerned, too. This is all very jarring.

“What are you doing here?” I manage to ask.

“I came to see my boy,” she says softly but she doesn’t sound offended or defensive over such a question. It’s as if she knows it’s a bit strange for her to be here, looking over her son while he’s in the hospital. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was in a helicopter crash,” I tell her.

She smiles. It’s a thin, hard line but it at least reaches her eyes. She’s dressed very demurely in a white turtleneck and beige pants. She has on no jewelry at all. It also looks like she hasn’t slept for days but that could just be another bender wearing on her face.

“Your father wants to sue the helicopter company,” she tells me.

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“You don’t object?”

I sigh. “I don’t know if it would do any good. We don’t need the money, do we?”

“Of course not,” she says. “But I think it’s more for principle. You make people pay when they’ve messed up.”

“But I don’t really know what happened, whose fault it was.”

“They said it was an electrical short.”

“I’m sure a better pilot could have landed it.”

“Linden,” she says, her voice harder now. “You’re one of the best pilots there is.”

I have to admit, I’m stunned by such an admission. My mouth drops a bit and there is a peculiar warm feeling in my ribs.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she adds. “We all know this. The company is at fault.”

I sigh heavily. “But these things happen. It’s just the risk you take. I knowingly take that risk every time I fly. I know what I’m getting into. It’s a complicated, convoluted machine, made up of rotors and drive shafts and wires and it flies vertically. You know what you’re getting into every time you step on board one of those things. You can have a perfect safety record, but you’re never really safe because nothing is. But that’s life.”

“That’s life,” she repeats. “I take this that you’ll still be flying then?”

“Of course,” I say, with no fear, no hesitation. “I’m not sure if I’ll go back to the same company, but one accident isn’t going to stop me from flying. I know it’s not exactly what you want to hear, but it is what I was born to do.”

She sighs delicately. “I know, son. Your father and I haven’t been the most…enthusiastic…about your career choice. And this is exactly why. No one wants to see their child hurt.”