Chapter 37

I was anxious to get back to school. I know that’s weird but I guess I’m just weird. I was mostly anxious to see Kim. Three days apart had seemed like an eternity and it had been ten days since we’d exchanged real hugs and kisses. I wasn’t sure how sore and tender she would still be but it didn’t matter. I just wanted to see her again. Mom drove me in, then went to take Kim to the doctor’s office. The hope was, she’d get the boot off and be cleared to come back to school.

I got some pretty nice greetings from friends and teachers and that was nice. I get the difference between having friends and acquaintances but it was nice to have a bunch of acquaintances welcome me back, too. I passed Mr. McClusky’s office between second and third period and he was in his outer office when I went by. He saw me and stepped out.

“Mr. Pierce. Welcome back.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s good to be back.”

“Feeling better? I heard you gave it a shot last week but maybe it was too soon? How’s Miss McTighe?”

“My mom took her to the doctor’s office this morning and she might be back by lunch.”

“Well, good, good. We saw the story on the evening news. It didn’t say your names because you’re minors but I had a good idea. You gave us all a scare.”

“Yes, sir. We gave me one, too. I don’t want to ever do that again.”

“No. No. Once was enough, I’m sure. Let me know if there’s anything we can do for you. Is Kim okay? Wheelchair, crutches, anything like that?”

“No sir. She might have a cane. She was in a boot.”

“I don’t want to hear about either of you at cheerleading or PE. I’ll send word and you don’t have to worry about it. Sound good?”

“Yes, sir. That would be helpful.”

“You, take care, Jack, and don’t rush it,” he said and we parted.

Mom called me different nicknames, depending on what was going on and I realized that Mr. McClusky did too. He’d called me Mr. Pierce and Jack but I’d been Aquaman before. I decided it was a good thing and it probably meant that people who switched around what they called you cared about you and were comfortable with you. Maybe not, but that’s sort of what it seemed like. I was good with that. I realized that I really did like being called Aquaman. I’d earned that one.

I sat at the squad table and wolfed down a couple of egg salad sandwiches before anyone else got there. I suspected I wouldn’t have much opportunity to eat once everyone showed up. I watched the cafeteria fill with people but no JV cheerleaders. Finally, Fling led the procession with Giggles and Kim at the back. Giggles carried Kim’s lunch, leaving Kim’s hands free.

I stood before she got there and we hugged. We hugged a wonderful, warm, comforting hug. I whispered, “Missed you” in her ear and I felt her nod. I helped her sit and re-took my seat across from her.

She answered questions and thanked everyone for their concern. She shared that at her appointment that morning the doctor said she was stuck in the boot for another week and needed to keep NSAIDs in her system until the boot came off. She said he was pleased that her headaches were coming less frequently and weren’t as bad. I’m not sure why I hadn’t known about the headaches until then.

We learned that varsity cheer had competed the previous Saturday and done poorly, coming in eighth out of nine. Lori had gone to the competition in Lexington and told us about how well Ben Lippen High School had done and what they did differently.

“You told me that’s what would happen,” Spot said to Kim. “I thought you were right, but I never would have guessed we’d be eighth out of nine. That sucks.”

“Nowhere to go but up,” Fling said. “What did Miss Bentz say about it? Anyone know?” Miss Bentz was the cheerleader coach. No one knew.

Birch came over and squatted down next to Kim. “Cheated death, I see. Feeling better?”

“I am. Not one hundred percent. Everyone keeps telling me it will just take time. They seem to be right. Thank you for the flowers. They were beautiful.” Birch smiled.

“You let me know if you need anything, okay?” he asked, and all of this had been very quiet. She nodded, he squeezed her shoulder once, nodded to me, and then went back to his table. The bell rang and I walked Kim back to class. I told her what Mr. McClusky had said and that I would call Mom from the office to get an early ride.

After school, I met Kim in front of her class and carried her books out to the car. Since we were leaving early, Mom’s was the only car. I let Kim in the front seat and got in behind Mom.

“What’s this about headaches?” I asked.

“They’re almost gone. Pretty rotten for the first couple of days. The doc says it’s common after a concussion. No boxing for me.”

“None for you, either, mister. Not until after your follow-up and you’re cleared. How did your day go, Kim? Okay?”

“Yes ma’am. I have some catching up to do but all my teachers were really understanding and I’ll have time.”

“Your truck is totaled, huh?” I asked.

“Yeah. Dad managed to get my gun and rack and a few things out of the back. I told him he should get the windshield wipers because they were brand new but he just looked at me like I had a concussion or something.” She paused for a moment. “That was humor. You’re supposed to laugh.”

Mom looked at her like she had a concussion or something, but she didn’t laugh. “I’m sure insurance will cover new wipers, sweetheart.”

“Those were special wipers,” Kim said, joking. I’d put them on in a torrential downpour so we could get home.

“What are you going to get to replace the truck, Baby?” I asked.

“Are you kidding? That’s a no-brainer. That truck saved our lives. I’m going to get another. It would be nice if the next one had a cassette deck that worked.”

We pulled up to Kim’s house and I wasn’t sure what the plan was. I got out and opened the door for her.

“I’m going to take a nap until Mom gets home. You two go. I’ll be fine,” she said. I walked her to the door and gave her a gentle kiss, noting that her lower lip was back to normal size, even if it was still tender. She had progressed a lot but not enough to really smooch. This whole give-it-time thing was annoying.

After dinner, Dane asked me about my rehab sessions and I told him. He asked me to show him my range of motion while he pressed on my shoulder from different angles. He was optimistic for me and suggested I do the rehab exercises on my own. He told me that frequency would probably help and I didn’t need to do them as though I was trying for a personal record. “Follow it up with ice. This is a good chance to learn how your body responds to therapy. You get to learn the difference between working through soreness and working through an injury.” He went into some details and told me, “Rule number one, you can’t improve if you’re injured.”

That made sense to me. He watched while I worked through each of the exercises. He suggested I do an exercise called a face pull with light weights. We went out to the gym and he showed me how. With a rope attachment on the high pulley, I faced it and pulled the ropes back to my ears. He set me up with ten and then twenty pounds but wouldn’t let me do more, even though I was sure I could. Finally, he told me to talk to the therapist and let them know I had a home gym and had tried light face-pulls without any pain.

I worked on homework, studying for a couple of make-up tests, and writing a rough outline for a history paper. I dutifully took my evening meds and hit the sack early. NSAIDs, ice and sleep were my friends.

Tuesday morning, Mom drove and we picked up Kim. She looked refreshed and upbeat. Her second dimple showed up a couple of times. Mom asked how she felt.

“I feel a lot better. My bruises have turned yellowish-green. I’m sort of glad I can’t see my foot and leg. I’m not pretty to look at.”

“You are, too,” I answered. “I see you getting stronger and happier. I’m sorry you’re bruised and hurting but you’re healing.”

“He’s right, Kim. Day, by day.”

“Thanks, Mrs. P. It’s just taking so long. I know I’m supposed to be grateful that we made it and there’s no permanent damage but it seems like we each lost a lot of time because of something outside our control.”

“It happens, Baby,” Mom said and it was strange to hear her call Kim ‘Baby’. “Try to learn from it and come back stronger. I see both of you trying to do that.”

“How do you prepare for this,” Kim asked.

“You don’t,” Mom said. “No one does. I think events outside our control reveal what kind of person we really are. We don’t grow so much when everything is easy.”

That had me thinking for the rest of the day. Where did this fit on the easy to difficult scale? What about breaking my foot before baseball started or losing Sally before our life started? Where those things hard or easy? Had I ever even had a real challenge? That night, after dinner, I asked Dane about it.

“That’s a tough one, Buddy. There’s no doubt this put a crimp in your style for a while but it’s a short-term problem to deal with. On a scale of one to ten, where would you put this?” he asked.

I thought about it for a minute but it was easier than I thought. “Maybe a two.”

“Give me an example of a ten.”

“Maybe if Kim had been killed.”

“That would definitely be a lot more than a two. I think the scale would be different for different people. I’ve had patients with pancreatic cancer. That’s one of the worst cancers you can have. They’re faced with multiple surgeries, chemo therapy, and only a marginal chance of survival for five years.”

“That would truly suck.”

“It truly sucks. Losing a loved one truly sucks. Having to tell someone the uphill battle they face or that their loved one didn’t make it also sucks. I think it’s an in-the-moment thing.”

“You have to look back on it to evaluate it?” I asked and Dane nodded. “Losing Sally was a ten when it first happened but now it’s only a six.”

“And one day, it might only be a two or three.”

“If it wasn’t for Kim, it would still be a ten,” I said.

“I’ll bet. Let me ask you a question. What if every time you faced a seven or more, you told yourself it was a three?”

“I have to think about that one.”

“Not an easy thing to sort out. Do you know what I think is the worst disease you can have? Clinical depression.”

“That doesn’t kill you,” I said.

“No. Worse. It kills hope. You can have stage four cancer and face all kinds of physical and psychological challenges but you can also still have hope, even if it’s just a little hope. You can hang onto that. People with clinical depression have no hope.”

I’d never thought about that one before. It sounded like it was true. I couldn’t imagine it.

“We can change subjects,” he said.

“Good. I’m not sure I like the last one. Lots to think about and I’m not sure I want to.”

“I don’t blame you. Listen, Franklin and I were talking. He was going to talk with you but I don’t think he’d mind if I do, instead. He’s about out of steam on Saturday mornings. He said the two of you have done more than he imagined and he needs to spend a bit more time with Karen.”

“I totally understand that and I agree. I’ve learned more on Saturday mornings with him than I have this year at school, that’s for sure. Plus, it’s been a lot more fun.”

“Good. We also talked a bit about my role. Maybe me taking over. What are your plans for Saturday morning?”

“Oh. OH. I get it. Dad,” I said, laughing. “I don’t have any.”

“Good. I have something planned. Do you want to know now or play I’ve-got-a-secret, the way Franklin did?”

“Both. It’s funny because I always wanted to know but then enjoyed the surprise. Surprise me.”

“You got it,” he said and we were done for the night.

The next couple of days followed a similar pattern except that at lunch, Kim and I ate apart from the squad, mostly so we would have time away from everyone else. Socializing was draining. Neither of us talked much. We were happy just to be in each other’s company. Mom was our ride all week and I ended each day by walking Kim to her door. On Friday she surprised me in a good way.

“I’m a lot better. Stronger too, I think. Not looking forward to lifting again. I don’t want to see how much strength I’ve lost. I have enough for a hug, though.”

“I’d like that. Not too tender?”

“Try and see,” she said and I gently took her in my arms. She squeezed back and I matched her until we were in a pretty solid embrace.

“Not too much?” I asked.

“I’ve missed this,” she said.

“Me too. Not too much?”

“Probably but it feels good more than it hurts.” I eased up a little and after a few moments, she said, “Okay. That’s good. See you in the morning,” and she went inside before I could ask.

Saturday morning, Dane and I were out the door by six. We picked up a waiting and excited Kim. We made the short drive over the bridge to MUSC and Dane parked in a spot reserved for doctors. We walked in and followed Dane through a bunch of hallways and through a door that needed a badge for us to enter. He swiped his on the reader and, once through that, we climbed some stairs and turned a few more corners. I was completely lost. I didn’t know where we were in the building and I didn’t know why we were there.

We came to what would be our final door and Dane turned to me. “You don’t have any idea what we’re doing here, do you?”

“None. We’re nowhere near the hospital cafeteria so we’re not here for breakfast.”

“No. I’m afraid that would have been a big disappointment,” he said and we went through the last door.

We were on something like a theater balcony. Plexiglass separated us from what was below. I could tell from the table in the middle, bright lights, and equipment, that we were above an operating room. Three people were working in the room, preparing, checking equipment, and laying out instruments.

“You want to know what I do? We’re here to observe a heart transplant.”

“No shit?” I asked.

“No. No shit. How’s your stomach? Some people get a little queasy.”

“I can manage,” I answered but I wasn’t really sure.

For the next five hours, Dane explained everything as it happened. A patient was wheeled in with an anesthesiologist right there with him. Then a couple of doctors and assisting nurses came in and found their spots around the patient. He described the duties of each member of the team. He explained some of the key instruments and asked if we had any questions. I didn’t know enough to ask questions. I thought flying had been an information overload experience. Flying seemed like little kid stuff compared to this. Everyone knew not just what they were supposed to do, but what everyone else was doing, too. They were a team. I’d always thought of teams as being an athletic thing but there was no doubt about it. They were a team.

What really got me was that they disconnected his heart and a machine took over, pumping blood to his lungs and body. I couldn’t take my eyes off it for long. While this team worked on him, the pump kept him alive. I’m pretty sure it was just plugged into a regular electrical outlet. No one paid any attention to it and it just kept doing its job. They removed the old heart and put in a new one. That machine was a lot bigger than either heart. It’s weird but I was compelled to check my pulse. Still ticking. For some weird reason, I wished Timex could have been there to see it. Crazy!

They got to the end of the operation and the chief surgeon stepped away for someone else to finish. It felt like I’d been holding my breath for hours. Kim had quite obviously been fascinated and enjoyed every minute of it.

We left and Dane led us a couple of blocks to a little deli for a late lunch.

“So, what do you think?” he asked.

“That was intense. You do that?” I asked.

“Yes, but not often. I would have been the assisting physician. Cardiac surgeon leads. Kim, what did you think?”

“No wonder you have to go to school for so long. That was a lot of stuff to have to know without checking any references or anything.” She paused for a minute and added, “It’s the most professional thing I’ve ever seen. Jack’s right. That was intense.”

I listened while Kim asked Dane a thousand questions and he tried to answer so we would understand. It was beyond me. It was not something I could do. I could imagine being a pilot, or roofing, or driving a Bobcat. I could even imagine playing professional baseball or even boxing, although that wasn’t likely. I couldn’t imagine going to school to learn how to hold the life of another person in my hands for five or six hours while I put a new heart in them. How does one person take on that much responsibility? And then I realized there was more than one way to do that, and I had been considering taking someone’s life in my hands as a family attorney. How much responsibility was I willing to accept? It was a new way to look at my career dilemma.

We finished and were on the way back to the car when Dane looked at me and said, “You’ve been pretty quiet. What’s on your mind?”

I explained my thoughts about a career and responsibility. I finished by telling them, “Nothing has made me feel like a little kid more than that. Not in a long time.”

At my request, we went to the batting cage. It was probably too soon and I set the speed for fifty. I could swing all the way through with my right but my left wasn’t happy about the whole thing. Still, Dane and I hit balls until our hands were done while Kim watched. Afterward, my chest was still a little sore but it wasn’t bad. It felt good to do something athletic after a layoff. I decided to become a professional baseball player. Not really, but after the tension of the surgery, it had a definite appeal. So did roofing. Wash put a new roof on a new house or replaced or repaired a roof on an older house. No one ever died. He did his job and people were grateful and happy and paid him for his work. It was simple. Man, was that appealing. And then a strange thought took hold. What if Wash didn’t roof for a living. What if he was a surgeon who did roofing like we hit baseballs?

“That’s why you like to go fishing, isn’t it?” I asked as we walked back to the car. I realized I had asked a question without any context so I explained my thinking.

“Maybe you’re right,” Dane said. “It’s definitely nice to do things that aren’t stressful ... like fishing.”

“If I did that for a living, I’d have to go fishing every day. Maybe twice a day,” I said and they both laughed but I wasn’t kidding. Dang. “That’s the most difficult surgery, isn’t it? A heart transplant.”

“It’s certainly not easy, especially when you run into complications but there are others that are more difficult, at least in my opinion.”

“Like what?” I couldn’t believe anything could be more difficult than that.

“Well, the toughest I’ve ever had to do was an emergency repair of a thoracic aortic dissection of both the ascending and descending thoracoabdominal aorta. Three of us were crowded around on that one. Pretty rare though.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you just said.”

He glanced over at me and realized how mystifying it was. “Repairing a broken heart.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure some people never recover,” I answered but I meant something completely different. I reached forward and put a hand on Kim’s shoulder. She knew what I meant. She looked back at me rested her chin on my hand and smiled. I could see her left dimple. Kim had repaired my descending whatever it was.

Dane drove us back to our neighborhood and dropped us off at Kim’s. We thanked him for a great morning and then went out to the sunroom to sit with her parents. Kim told them about our morning and they were both really interested to hear about it. Kim was pretty pumped up about the whole thing and I could see that her parents recognized that and asked lots of questions.

At one point she seemed particularly excited about the whole thing. “Is this a school and career possibility?” I asked.

“Oh, hell, no. Sorry. No. Just, no. No. I just thought it was really cool. It would be neat to meet the guy after he recovers. You know, take him to lunch and tell him, ‘I saw you get your new heart installed.’”

“I don’t think that’s an option,” Mr. McTighe said, smiling. “Patient privacy and all that. Still ... Hey, we got a check from insurance today. That’s a very fast response from insurance. I have a picture of your car. You should keep that as a reminder of what you’ve been through. Let’s go get you a car tomorrow, shall we?”

That was enough to cheer her up even more. I had dinner with them and felt like walking home. I had a lot on my mind and needed the time. Plus, even walking was welcome exercise, something I never would have considered before the accident. I hit the sack early but didn’t sleep well.

I met Mom and Dane in the kitchen for breakfast and thanked him for the previous day. I told him he should have taken Mom, too. I was told she’d go when they didn’t schedule one at an ungodly hour. Then she changed her mind and said she would go soon. I went to my room to read some history and start on a report. I had finished my rough draft and decided to give it a rest and do some trig. I usually got my trig homework finished before I left school but missing some time put me a bit behind. I had just cracked the book when Mom came to get me. She had one of those I’ve-got-a-secret smiles. I followed her to the front door.

Kim was just inside the door, even more, bubbly than she had been the day before.

“What’s up? Man, you’re excited today. Did you get a truck?”

“Yes. Wait until you see it. Dad, I’m going to take Jack for a ride, if that’s okay.” He nodded and she hugged him and kissed his cheek and we stepped outside.

“It’s blue,” I said, a little surprised. I expected her to replace it with another white truck but she’d gotten a light blue truck.

“No, it’s not,” she said. “Guess again.”

“Okay. It’s light blue. Baby blue, maybe.” It was a really good-looking truck.

“No. You’ll never get it. It’s aqua,” she said, practically giggling. “It’s aqua, Aquaman. Hahaha. It’s a couple of years newer and more expensive but Dad chipped in the difference. It’s a seventy-nine. Let’s ride,” she said and we both got in.

I had to admit it, it was pretty cool for Kim to have an aqua-colored truck. She started the truck and I recognized the voice from the stereo. “Emmy Lou,” I said.

“We had to stop at Licorice Pizza on the way back and pick up some tunes. It’s Quarter Moon in a Ten Cent Town. What do you think?”

“I like it. Very nice. Aqua. You’re funny.”

“I pretended I didn’t like the color because it was too girly and he came down in price some. Dad is pretty good when it comes to getting a good price, too.”

“Wait, aqua is girly?” I protested.

“No, silly, but the salesman thought I thought so. I’m going to swing by Mel’s house.”

That surprised me. Kim had been excited and upbeat for two days and whatever I could do to help her stay that way was fine by me. Melanie lived about two miles away and we were there before My Songbird finished on her cassette player. Nice to have tunes. She pulled into the driveway and honked. I saw someone peeking through the shades and then Mel came to the door.

“Ah. She doesn’t recognize the truck,” Kim said and got out. As soon as she did, Giggles came running and gave her a hug. They talked for a couple of minutes and I stayed in the truck so they could do it without me. When they started walking toward me, I got out.

“Hey, Aquaman. Riding in style in the Aquatruck?” Melanie hollered.

“The aqua truck? Really?” She came over and gave me a very friendly hug.

“Hey, hands off. Get your own,” Kim said and they both laughed. They hugged once more and we got in the truck for the drive home.

I was quiet for a few moments and then said, “I don’t get it.” Why would she let Melanie hug me and mess with me like that?

Kim looked over at me and then said, “What don’t you get?” she asked. I didn’t answer and I saw the light come on. “Oh, my gosh. You don’t get it, do you? You think Mel is messing with you?”

“Yeah,” I said, cautiously. Of course, that’s what I thought.

“Oh, my goodness. You have no idea, do you? I think I messed up. I’m so sorry. She’s not messing with you, Baby.”

“It sure seems like it.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no. Oh, Baby. She’s messing with me. But you thought she was messing with you. Oh, man. Mel is my best friend. We’ve been best friends since second grade. I think she thought you knew. I thought you knew. I’m so sorry.”

I was stunned. “All this time...”

“I don’t know why I thought you knew. I don’t know why. I guess because everybody else does.” She was quiet for a minute and then, “We used to wear the same clothes because we were twins. She used to live next door but they moved four years ago. I’m so sorry. Oh, Baby. Melanie would never try to steal anything from me, especially not you. I’m thinking back to when she came to your table with her resume. That was hilarious. Did she do her Eeyore impression?”

“Eeyore?”

“You know, the pessimistic sad donkey from Winnie the Pooh?”

“No. Doggone it, Kim.”

“I’m sorry. Forgive me?”

I was trying to decide whether I should laugh or be mad. I decided to laugh, sort of. “Yes. Anything else I’m missing?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even. Truth was, I was kind of pissed and there was no way I could disguise that.

“I think that’s it. You going to be mad at me for the rest of the day?” she asked as we pulled into the driveway.

“I’m almost done,” I said and then we both laughed and it was over, mostly. I pretended I was done but the truth was, I wasn’t sure. We hugged in the driveway, then, as we were walking up to the house, I said, “She is pretty cute,” and she shoved me a good one. Good. Get that out of the way. How was I supposed to know?

We stopped on the top step and Kim looked at me and said, “She is pretty cute, isn’t she?”

“Ah, yeah. Wouldn’t be a very big deal if she wasn’t.”

“Well, then, you did good. Tomorrow is Monday. I want to try to lift.”

“I haven’t lifted you know. Not since the accident. I wonder...” I said and sort of left it hanging as we went inside.

“How much you’ve lost? How much we’ve lost?”

“Yeah. That, and how much lifting helped us both recover more quickly if it did. It probably did.”

We walked into the kitchen but it was empty. It had gotten pretty late and strange for Mom not to be in the kitchen working on some experiment. I hollered out and we walked around for a while, looking for Mom and Dane. When there was only one place left to look, we went out to the greenhouse. Mom was explaining orchids and Dane was pretending to be interested. Maybe he was interested. Or maybe he was just interested in Mom. Dane had just got back from running Mr. McTighe home and I was sure they’d be talking about orchids for an hour. Kim was interested. I excused myself and went inside.

I plopped into my favorite chair and grunted in pain, sorry that I had done so without thinking. Still a little sore on my left side, some things bothered me when it didn’t seem like they should. Other times, I did something that I thought should have hurt and it didn’t. It was weird. I stood back up to sort of loosen up. I realized I was still sort of ticked at Kim. I also realized I hadn’t talked to Sally in a long time. I called.

She picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Jack. Been a while,” she said.

“Yeah. My fault. Do you have a few?” She did and I relayed what had been going on. She’d carried the conversation the last couple of times and our accident and recovery were a pretty big deal. I told her all about it and how it had wrecked me emotionally. She asked a lot of questions and when that sort of fizzled out, I told her about watching a heart transplant operation. Finally, I told her about the revelation that Melanie, AKA Giggles, was Kim’s best friend and how she had been messing with Kim by messing with me.

It was quiet for a while and then she said, “That’s the real reason you called, isn’t it?” I didn’t answer. “You’re mad at Kim, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean? I’m not royally pissed off but I’m a little ticked.”

“Because she thought you knew. I don’t think that’s it.” Of course, that was it, I thought. “I think Jack Pierce is pissed off at Jack Pierce but Kim is convenient.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Don’t get mad at me,” she protested. “I know Melanie. Not well, but I know her. Cute, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Bullshit, Jack. She’s way more than ‘I guess so’ cute. Having Mel put the moves on you stroked your ego and now you find out that’s not what she was doing at all and you’re pissed at yourself for thinking like that.”

It was quiet for a minute while I tried to figure out if she was right. No. It couldn’t be. Nope. Maybe. No. “I don’t think that’s it.”

“No? When we went out, it felt pretty good that you would find me attractive and desirable. It’s nice, Jack. It really is. Did you feel good that I thought you were too?”