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“Daddy, it hurts.” Simon’s face was by now very pale. Sweat pasted his curly brown locks to his forehead.
“The doctor’s coming. It’s going to be all right.”
“We have to call Mom,” Thomas said.
“Yes, you’re right. But not now. Let’s wait until the doctors are here. We’ll call her when we know more.”
The three of them sat in silence. Thomas held onto his little brother’s hand. Jeremy stroked his face. Once again, the present caught hold of him, more violently this time. He’d been absorbed completely by the urgency, fear, and necessity. And now the guilt. I’m not a responsible husband. I’m not a responsible father. I’m a danger to my family when I’m having a crisis. And I’m an unfit father when I’m well.
It was the arrival of the ambulance that pulled him out of these dark thoughts. Under Thomas’s fearful gaze, the EMT examined Simon. “He didn’t lose that much blood. One vein severed and maybe a scratched tendon. We have to move him to the hospital for service. You’ll come along?”
“Yes, of course,” Jeremy replied. “Thomas and I will go.”
“Where are we going?” Simon asked weakly.
“To the hospital. We’re going with you.”
“I’m going in an ambulance?”
“Yes.”
“With a siren?”
“If you want,” the EMT replied with a wink.
“Cool.”
The operation was over. The doctors had reassured Jeremy. Thomas was sitting on a bench, knees folded, head between his arms. His demeanor remained cold and distant.
I can tell Thomas doesn’t like me. He judges me, evaluating my performance. Everything I do disappoints him. Yet somehow he doesn’t seem to hate me. He needs a father and hopes I’ll fulfill my role. But what can I do? Is it possible to regain his confidence? And tomorrow, will I become the father he fears again?
Jeremy sat down next to him. Thomas lifted his head with an inquisitive look.
“He’s fine. They gave him a few stitches.”
“Did it hurt?” Thomas asked weakly.
“No. He’s sleeping now.” Jeremy took his hand and wanted to draw him closer, but Thomas resisted, bursting into tears. Jeremy took him by the shoulders, feeling more opposition. He insisted, and Thomas finally gave in.
“Everything’s going to be fine. You acted very grown up. I admire your courage. You were afraid, weren’t you?”
Thomas sniffed, replying with a nod.
“And you didn’t show it. So you wouldn’t scare him. I’m proud of you, Son.” Hearing these words, Thomas removed his face from his father’s shoulder to look at him, perplexed.
“It’s true. I’m really very proud of you.” They sat pressed against each other.
I’m supposed to love him, protect him, comfort him. But I feel so young. I’m not ready for these responsibilities.
A ringtone sounded. Thomas sat up. He reached into his pocket and took out a cell phone. “It’s Mom. You tell her?”
Jeremy took the phone. “Victoria?”
“Jeremy? Where’s Thomas? I left my phone with him.”
“He’s next to me.”
“Is that so? What are you doing?”
