While most Father's had dens or offices, mine had a lab in the back room of our house. On more than one occasion he'd remind me, "I'm a man of science, not philosophy." My mind lingered over this while I sat waiting with him for test results in his sterile lab. He broke the silence between us.
“Looks good. I can see there's some change. We'll keep you on the current dose. It shouldn't be any worst then the last time.” he said, picking up the syringe in front of us. I couldn't help but tense up. He tightened his grip on my arm pressing it down against the cold wood desk. Making sure to inject slowly. A stinging sensation rose up my arm and continued up to my shoulder, on it coursed with each heart beat. Finally the stinging lessened, then realizing he was done.
“I know this is what you don't want to hear, try to relax. It will go smoother.”
"Easy for you to say, " I commented.
"I'm sorry, " he paused, "I wish there was another way."
Like it really mattered. I was the one going through all this. I guess it could have been hard on him too, but he seemed so unconcerned about the whole thing. However that was just on the outside. I knew my father well. It was bothering him just as much it was my mother, he just hid it better.
“Can I go lay down?” I asked.
“You okay?”
“Yes. I just want to lay down before I start feeling ill.” I stood up, already feeling zapped of energy.
“I'll check on you in an hour, you should start feeling it then.” A faint look of regent shown on his face. I walked back to my room, sat on the bed and continued to listen to the stereo I had left on. I thought of Riley and wondered what time she would be leaving today for Henderson.
I thought about her often, especially being stuck in bed with nothing to do made my thoughts of her more prominent. She was all that consumed my mind. I'd thought she was beautiful from the first time I'd met her, in spite of her obnoxious remarks. I closed my eyes and tried focusing on the music.
The room was getting hotter as the time passed slowly, it seemed like the songs began to get longer and longer until I realized it was just me. The toxin was working. Nausea was beginning to set in and I was becoming disoriented.
“Mom!” I though I yelled out loudly, but she didn't come. Mustaring up every ounce of energy I had left, I yelled again.“MOM!”
She came through the door, with a bowl, wet towel, and a cup of water. “It's already working?” she turned toward the hallway, “Martin!” She put the cup next to me on the nightstand. Placed the bowl down to my side and checked my forehead, it was dewy and a bit sticky with sweat. Her hand was cool to my touch and it felt good to have it on my skin soothing me. She placed the wet washcloth on my forehead.
“Thanks.” I looked up at her for a moment.
She forced a smile, “Gladly.” Although she said it she wasn't glad about any of this. But I was grateful that she had left the choice up to me for us to try this.
“He's already feeling sick?” Dad asked, but it sounded more of a statement then a question. He checked his watch. “That was fifteen minutes sooner than the last time.”
“Did you up the dosage?” Mom looked concerned.
“No. This is good,” She gave him a you've got to be crazy look. He continued, “his body is accepting it, chances are the next time it will be faster still.”
I laid in bed in and out of consciousness for the next few hours. Fading back and forth in and out of reality. Minutes passed like hours and soon I found I had no concept of what time it truly was. My mother came in with a concerned look.
“Riley's here. She wants to see you before she leaves. Are you well enough to handle it?”
“Yes.” I sat up as best I could. Not really sitting up at all.
“Go on in.” I heard her guide.
