“Nothing,” Isay, trying to keep him calm so I can ask him about Dad.
“Who are youand why are you here?”
“I’m JohnGordon’s daughter. My dad is in critical condition in the hospitaland he mentioned he was going to meet with you last night.”
Suddenly, hisdemeanor changes from defensive to paranoid. “Look, I - whateverhappened to your dad had nothing to do with me. As soon as shitstarted to fly, I left the apartment.”
“What? What areyou talking about?”
“Last night. Imet with your dad. We went for coffee and then back to his place.Not long after we were there, the intercom buzzed and John let acouple of guys in. John and them got into an argument. Before Iknew it, your dad was swinging punches and yelling at the guys.Soon, all three of them were brawling. I got the hell out of there.I’m on probation and don’t need to be around any heat.”
“So, you justleft my father to get the shit kicked out of him? You’re acoward!”
“Fuck you,bitch.” He says before slamming the door.
“Come back outhere. We’re not finished asking you questions,” says Katie.
Jim hollersfrom behind the door, “I’m not telling you anything else. If youwanna know more, why don’t you take a trip to Blood Alley and askyour dad’s pal, Slinky?” He laughs.
“Pleasantfellow,” says Katie, looking over at me.
I can’t believehe mentioned Slinky. Why the hell would Slinky know anything aboutwhat happened to my dad?
* * *
Katie and Ileave the building and head downtown. It’s nighttime. Alley ways wedrive past are dark and dangerous. It’s best to wait until morningto try and locate Slinky. We decide to go to her place so I cancall the hospital and find out if there are any changes withDad.
As soon as wewalk into her apartment, my cell rings.
“May I speak toJules Gordon?”
“Speaking.”
“My name isDoctor Peters. I’m one of the doctor’s in ICU that have beentreating your father.” His voice is cold and official.
Catching me offguard, I hold my breath. What if he’s calling to tell me that Daddidn’t make it? He would’ve been all alone. Oh God, please don’tlet that be what happened. I couldn’t bear it. I feel my heartrateelevate and pulsate in my throat.
“How is he?” Isay, terrified of his answer.
“He’s hadtrauma to the back of the head. The x-rays and scans show multiplefractures. Whoever hit him, must have used something heavy andblunt.”
“So, someonehit him in the head with something? He couldn’t have sustained hisinjury by falling during a fight?” I say, surprised.
“No, not withhis injuries.”
“So, what now?Will he make it? Is he going to be ok?” I say, panicked.
“We won’t knowthe extent of the damage to his brain until he is awake. Hopefullyhe will come out of this fine but only time will tell.”
“How longbefore he wakes up?”
“In a few dayswe will introduce medication that will slowly bring him out of theinduced coma. Shortly thereafter, he should start to come out ofit.”
“So, overall,this is good news?”
“Yes. It couldhave been a lot worse, especially considering his pre-existingcondition.”
I sigh a hugebreath of relief and tears fall from my eyes. Katie sits besideme.
“Thank you somuch, Doctor. God bless you. Please thank the rest of the… wait.Did you say, ‘pre-existing’ condition?”
“Yes. I did. Ipresume you are aware of your dad’s diagnosis prior to thisincident?”
“Whatcondition? He doesn’t have any condition. He would’ve told me if hewas sick.”
“I’m sorry,Jules. I assumed he would have already told his family.”
“Told hisfamily what?” I say, starting to panic again.
“On his chart,it says that while he was incarcerated, he saw a neurologist who,after testing, determined that your father has an Astrocytomatumor.”
“There must besome mistake. My dad doesn’t have anything like that. Someone hasmade a huge mistake.” I say, unable to breathe deeply.
“I’m sorry tobe the one to tell you this,” the doctor says, humbly.
I’m back tofeeling scared and as helpless as I was when the ambulance took myfather away this morning. “Providing he comes out of the coma ok,what’s the prognosis on this Astro…whatever you called it?”
“Unfortunately,his tumor was found late and had already reached stage four beforeit was detected. It’s hard to say how long any patient will livewith this condition, but in my experience, it usually isn’tlong.”
I hang upwithout being sure if I said goodbye. Immediately, Katie askswhat’s wrong? I shake my head, “All I know is, I’m living anightmare.”
I can’t stopcrying as I try to tell her what the doctor said. Not knowing howto respond, she goes quiet.
“I can’t dothis, Katie. I know I can’t. It’s too painful. I feel like I’m onan emotional roller coaster through hell and all I want to do isjump off.”
She starts tocry and holds my hand. “This is the worst news ever. Even if hegets through this head injury, he still has an uphill battle tofight. I am so sorry, Jules. My heart is breaking for you.”
“I just don’tunderstand why he didn’t tell me he was ill? And how could I nothave picked up on it? He’s never shown signs of being sick or inpain. Unless he has and I just wasn’t paying close enoughattention?” I put my face in my hands and sob.
Rubbing myback, she says, “None of this is your fault. How could you havepossibly known he was ill? He chose not to tell you, that’scompletely out of your control. Don’t feel guilty. As for why hekept it from you? Maybe he was just trying to protect you or, maybehe wants what little time he has left to be spent bonding with youinstead of making you sad?”
“Do you thinkthat doctor could be mistaken? Maybe he read the wrong guy’s file?That happens, doesn’t it?”
She looks at mesympathetically and shakes her head, “What do you want to do now,Jules?”
“The only thingI ever do when things become too hard to deal with, I run away. ButI can’t. Not this time. No matter what he’s going through, my placeis by his side.”
We sit and cryfor an hour or so before I get up and go to the washroom to wash myface. After a few deep breaths, I compose myself and
