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“Call for an ambulance, Doug.” His father shouted up to the family. He kneeled down to see if Henri was breathing.
Fly
“Is he breathing?”
IS THIS THE WAY?
MAVEN WRUNG HER HANDS together nervously as she watched her mother rush back and forth across the kitchen gathering her things. She knew all the signs of an emergency. And this was the way her mother acted when there was an emergency.
“What’s going on?” She sniffled.
Maggie climbed the stool taking a seat, she wore her pajamas still and was a bit lethargic, but she knew Maven was upset as soon as she looked at her. She had stayed locked in her room as soon as she heard the news about Henri’s unknown whereabouts. She already knew what it felt like to deal with Maven’s sadness when it came to the things she cared about in life, so she chose to stay away.
Their mother snatched her keys from the table. She shot a quick glance in Maven’s direction. Maggie grabbed the box of frosted flakes Nick had left out and dumped them in a bowl. She watched cautiously.
“Maven I can’t… I can’t sweetheart,” Their mother said, her eyes heavy and filling with tears.
“I just want to know that he is alright. That’s not against protocol, Mom.” Maven wiped at her eyes. “Please.”
“They found him. His father said they found him. Call Fly
“Maybe you should go up there.” Maggie volunteered.
Maven looked at Maggie. “What if he is dying?”
“He is dying, he has been dying. Maybe you need to see him.” Maggie looked away, poking at her frosted flakes, her messy hair shielding her eyes from her sister. “There was always going to be a day where Henri…died. It could help you get over it.”
Maven cringed. “What do you know, Maggie?” She snapped.
“I didn’t say I know anything.” She jumped down from the stool, slamming her bowl into the sink and walked out of the room.
But she knew Maggie was right. As much as she cared about Henri she had to be there for him. No matter how much fear she felt on the inside, it was the right thing to do.
She hurried out the door.
***
Fly
He couldn’t get Henri’s image out of his mind. He wasn’t resting at the bottom of the hill because of his heart, someone had put him there. Someone had purposely hurt him. And he feared he knew who that someone was. Jake Summit.
The speakers echoed the name of some doctor. The television flashed and sent the morning news into the waiting room. Fly
Maven had shown up and given her support and kind words to all of them and Fly
The doctor walked into the room. All eyes were on him and all pacing slowed or died down altogether.
***
Jake reached into the mailbox pulling out some bills and a sports illustrated magazine. He looked over his shoulder at Arnold approaching.
“Jake. I need to talk to you.”
Jake sighed, tossing the mail on the porch steps. He took a seat, resting his arms against the basketball shorts he was wearing. “What’s up, Arnold?” His voice coming across a bit bored.
“You know my sister Ray-A
Jake offered no words. So Arnold continued. “You think he will say anything?”
Jake shifted apprehensively “I don’t know.” A sudden flow of anxiety coupled with paranoia overwhelmed him. He hadn’t reported the incident like he promised Arnold he would. He hoped for the worst to happen to Henri before they even found him. He knew it was a sick thing to hope for, but he was left with no alternative.
Arnold shook his bangs from his eyes, he looked at Jake. “This isn’t good for you.”
“What do you mean me, Arnold?” Jake laughed it off. “It was a drunken mistake. I barely hit him.”
“I mean you. If Henri remembers what happened he knows I was trying to help him. You’re in deep shit. Maybe it’s time for you to realize that.”
Jake scoffed.
“You might want to tell someone what you did.” Arnold stood up. “Because the way I see it, even if nobody ever knows what you did, Jake, his family will.”
Jake picked the mail up from the stairs. “You think I’m afraid of Fly
Arnold shrugged. Fly
***
Fly
He thought it was best if they let Maven sleep. He would fill her in later.
“Right now things don’t look as severe as we initially thought. Henri has a small amount of bleeding on the brain, nothing horrendous, some scrapes and contusions.” The foreign gray haired doctor rattled. He moved his gaze from one to the next, never making it personal. “The heart…it’s doing what we expect it to be doing for someone in his stage of failure.” Fly
“Can you speak English? Dammit, don’t they have any American doctors around here?” Fly
“The body is weak. His heart, the pacemaker, it’s doing the best it can. But soon we are going to have to co
His mother raised an eyebrow. “But the surgery…it’s on Monday.”
The doctor sanded his hands together, an uptight expression flooding his features. “The body is weak…the injury to the head, the cuts and scrapes, have started an infection. We have to deal with the immune system before we can offer him that option. Right now Henri is not an ideal candidate for treatment.”
Fly
“Henri is awake. One visitor at a time.” The doctor stood, he shook Fly
Sandra burst into tears. April’s eyes darted back and forth between her mother and her father and her brother. She was close to losing it. She bit at her nail, barely holding her own tears back. Her mouth was dry, she was sick to her stomach. She didn’t know what to say. She looked at her aunt, Henri’s mother; she was motionless, just staring out the window.