Amir returned with the water. He stood on the other side of the bed, but when my father didn’t reach for the cup, Amir held it to his lips. Some of the water spilled down my father’s cheeks. It didn’t seem to me that he had managed to drink any. I dried his cheeks with the sleeve of my shirt, leaving behind a shadow of dirt. When I tried to rub the dirt away, my father closed his eyes, but seemed restless, his eyelids moving and flickering.
He licked his lips and spoke. “I haven’t done this for years,” he said in that strange, croaky, new voice. “When I was a kid, I used to lie in bed for weeks. My breathing was always bad then. I was born early, my mother said. Weak lungs.”
A shiver moved down my spine. I didn’t like hearing him use the wordweakto describe any part of himself. I thought of how he worked outside from sunrise to sunset. I thought of our walks together, the beat of our footsteps on the land, the songs we sang.
I began to sing the songs that my father loved, the ones he always sang while striding around Horseshoe Cliff. Amir sang, too. He knew the words now, and our voices sounded nice tangled together, sweet and high.
Eventually we heard the truck rumbling up the dirt drive, the squeal of the brakes as it stopped in front of the house, butwe didn’t stop singing until Bear and Doctor Clark entered the room. Without a word, Bear pushed Amir from his place beside the bed.
My father opened his eyes and stared up at the doctor. His breathing made a wet, whistling noise.
“Hello, Jacob,” Doctor Clark said. He always seemed weary and today he looked no different, his shoulders slumped as though his exhaustion were a heavy coat.
My father moved his lips, but I couldn’t make out his words.
Doctor Clark pressed his listening tool to my father’s chest. After a few moments, he put his hand on the side of my father’s neck, and then his wrist. “I don’t like the sound of those lungs of yours.”
“He’s had that cough for years,” said Bear.
I looked sharply toward my brother. Was he nervous? I took a step closer to my father. I had not let go of his hand. My heart was beating so fast that it felt as though it were preparing for flight.
“And the fever? When did that spike?”
Bear shrugged. “We were all sick. It was just a cold. Somethinghebrought home from school,” he said, tossing his chin toward Amir.
This wasn’t true, though he said it as though he believed it. “I was the one who was sick first,” I said. I’d been the first to get the cold and the first to recover. Amir moved to my side of the bed.
Doctor Clark’s eyes softened when he looked at me. “Well,everyone gets sick at school—especially in the spring when the weather goes one way and then another. Why don’t you two head outside for a bit and let me chat with your dad and brother?”
It didn’t seem to me that my father was up for much of a chat. I held tight to his hand and shook my head.
“We don’t want to go outside,” said Amir.
Doctor Clark looked to Bear, but Bear just shrugged. The doctor sighed. “Fine, then.” He took his listening tool from his neck and put it back into his bag before addressing my father.
“Jacob, my guess is you have pneumonia. I won’t know the severity of the infection until I see an X-ray of your lungs. That means a visit to the hospital.”
The hospital! I waited for my father to protest, but he only nodded.
“We’ll come with you,” I said quickly.
“No, you won’t,” said Bear. He’d been slouched against the wall, but now he straightened.
Doctor Clark looked at Bear. “I don’t know how long your father will be there,” he warned. “It could be days... or longer.”
“They’ll be fine here,” Bear said.
The doctor’s brow furrowed. “How old are you now, Merrow?” he asked. It occurred to me that he’d hardly glanced in Amir’s direction.
“Ten.”
“Well, that’s older than you look, but it’s still young to be left home alone.”
“I’ll call Rei Ishikawa when we get to the hospital,” Bearsaid. “She’ll keep an eye on them. Anyway, someone needs to stay here to mind the animals.”
“No,” I said. “I want to be with Dad.”
“No one cares what you want, Merrow. I don’t need to be watching the two of youandlooking after Dad at the hospital. You’re staying here.”
