Everything is fine here. Jack is happy, taking a nap now. How is your mom? x
I waited for a response but it didn’t come. It had always been a joke between us: how quickly Anna would respond to text messages. Why wait? she would say. You only forget to answer. Jack was still sleeping, so I checked my email on my phone and there was a message from Nev.
Subject: Re: Jack
Sent: Tue Dec 16, 2014 1:05 am
From: Nev
To: Rob
Dear Rob,
Just a quick e-mail to wish you all well. Hope you arrived safely and everything is going as well as can be expected.
I told Josh that Jack was going for treatment in Prague and he drew him a little picture. I scanned it and am attaching it to this email.
Take care of yourselves and let me know if there’s anything I can do.
Nev
I opened the attachment. There was a drawing of a little boy, with a bandage around his head, sitting in a hospital bed. Next to him, two dinosaurs dressed as nurses were carrying a tray. All of this was happening outside on the grass, under a blazing yellow sun.
* * *
Jack stayed the night at the clinic for observation. It was a precaution, they said, something they did with all their new patients. Anna had called last night and I closed Jack’s door, in case she would hear the unfamiliar sounds of the clinic in the corridor outside. Jack was in bed asleep, I said, which wasn’t actually a lie.
The next morning, I woke in a chair next to the bed, still drowsy and stiff, and saw Dr. Sladkovsky standing over Jack, his finger pushing a pill onto his tongue.
“Good morning,” the doctor said. “Just giving Jack his morning medications.”
I turned to Jack, who was smiling, sitting up in bed, a blood-pressure cuff still around his arm, a plate of toast next to him on a tray-table. “How are you feeling, beautiful?” I said.
“Fine,” Jack said. “I had cheese toast, but not special cheese toast. They don’t have that here.”
“That’s great, Jack, you’ve done really well.”
Just then, my phone chimed and it was a text message from Anna.
Mom’s still in intensive care and not very responsive. I miss Jack so much and want to come home, but I can’t leave her now. How is he doing? Will call in a bit. x
I gazed at Jack. I had not seen him look so well in a long time. His cheeks were rosy; his hair had regained its shine. When he spoke, there was a sparkle in his eyes.
Dr. Sladkovsky, who had been busy filling in Jack’s chart, turned to me and lowered his voice so Jack couldn’t hear. “I do have some good news for you,” he said. “While it’s quite early, it seems that Jack is undergoing an extraordinary response to the treatment. His protein markers are excellent. We’ve not seen anything like it for a long time.”
The doctor took out a piece of paper and traced a line on a graph with his finger. “Yes, these are very good. His GML and CB-11.”
“These are the blood proteins, right?” I said.
“Yes, blood proteins, exactly. They’re very sensitive indicators. It’s one of the ways we track how well the treatments are working. Put simply, it’s a measurement of how well his immune system is fighting the cancer.”
I was breathless, the hairs prickling on the back of my neck. In all of the consultations with Jack’s doctors, we had never once received even a slither of good news.
“I... I... I didn’t know that you would be able to tell that it’s working so soon.”
“Actually, Mr. Coates, this is what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, with immuno-engineering, it’s like riding a wave and it’s all about maximizing that wave as much as possible. Do you see what I mean?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I do.”
“My apologies, please forgive my bad English. Let me try to explain it to you another way. Jack’s body is fighting hard now. Very hard. You see his red cheeks, how he has become more engaged, alert. Well, that’s his body working overtime, what we call an immune response. This is good, a very excellent sign. Now, in previous patients we’ve found that now is a good time to boost and to give him another infusion.”
I looked at Jack again, playing a game on the iPad, a game that a week ago he had lost interest in. Dr. Sladkovsky was right. Something had happened. He was more alert, unrecognizable to the boy he was before. Jack looked up at me and smiled, his eyes as big as saucers, the dark shadows that had eclipsed them were now almost gone.
“So move the next treatment forward you mean?”
“Yes, exactly, Mr. Coates. He was due his next round in three days, but we would recommend doing another today. It would mean him staying here today for observation.”
“I understand,” I said, taking out my phone. “But, if you can give me a second, I just need to check something.”
“Of course,” the doctor said, averting his eyes as I logged into my banking app. The savings had already been transferred.
“Okay, let’s do it,” I said, and Dr. Sladkovsky smiled and nodded to the nurse.
“Excellent,” the doctor said, as the nurse handed him a clipboard. “I do, however, need you to sign another consent form. We are bound by EU law on dosage procedures and are required to get your compliance for the shortening of time between doses.”
After I signed the form, I went outside into the corridor, lined with photographs of Sladkovsky’s survivors, and felt a tingle up my spine. What if Jack was really getting better? It had worked with Josh. Why not Jack?
I knew that I had to call Anna. If she came here and saw him, she would change her mind. I wanted her to see the color in his
