Chapter Two: There For You
Copyright © by J. Faith Kenney
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission.
In the orphanage, maybe ten years old on a sunny day in the afternoon. The younger me is sitting under a tree on the outside bench on the big hill by the barn. The hill has a view over some of the town and some of the woods.
That spot was my favorite place to be because it is away from people. From behind me, footsteps are approaching and I know who it is- Zac.
“What do you want, Zac?” the younger me asks.
“How did you know it was me?” he asks while taking a seat next to the younger me on the bench.
“Who else would it be?” Say the younger me, turning to look at him.
“True. It’s sure beautiful up here. I can see why it’s your favorite spot. You know, someday we will be out there together without the orphanage, just you and me-”
“And the rest of the world,” I finish off for him, “and I can’t wait. Everything will be perfect then.” I look back to the town and the woods, and it is like a dream.
Zac doesn’t say anything back to me, just stares and smiles at me. After a while he turns to look at the view of the woods and the town for himself. We sit in silence for a long time looking at the view. Soon Zac stands but doesn’t leave completely and looks at the younger me with some hope.
“Thela?” My younger self turns my head to look at him. “I will always be there for you. No matters what happens to us or what tender you become, I will be there.”
I turn back to the view and the silence fills in. Zac waits a couple of minutes before walking away. When he is a few feet away, the younger me speaks. “You can’t say that, Zac.” Turning to look at him. The younger me place my elbows on the back of the bench. “You shouldn’t waste your time on me, because maybe someday you’ll be scared of me.”
“I would never.”
“You don’t know that, though,” the younger me snaps.
Zac’s face fills with confusion, and we hold each other’s gaze for a little bit. The younger me turns around to face the city and woods again, knowing I said too much.
“Thela, what do you mean?” asks the younger Zac. The younger me doesn’t respond and acts like he isn’t even there. “Thela?” His voice soft but filled with concern.
Again, no response. Zac stays waiting for a few more seconds, but a reply never comes. He doesn’t push the issue but walks away. My vision blurs and the memory fades.
🧠
Rolling my eyes and shaking my head, still on the cot. After a few minutes, I get up and make my way to the little kitchen to make myself some tea. The kitchen consists of a fridge and cabinets lining one wall. In the middle is a stove and oven, and next to the stove is a sink with a microwave on the other side.
Once my tea is made, I grab myself a banana and my papers for my patients. For once I have some downtime to catch up on my notes for my patients and some other paperwork. The two patients I look at the most are Tess and George Good.
For George, I pack his food and get it all ready to go for him to pick it up. I barely got a chance to call to tell him that his food was ready, because within a few minutes he was there to pick it up. It was too fast. I didn’t even get a chance to talk to him to get more information about him and his family. I didn’t even meet him or see what he looks like.
For Tess, she’s not getting better, and I have no idea why. All the treatments, and still nothing. No sign of improvement, not even a little. Her test results came back negative for being a Neuroner, but my mind can’t stop wrapping itself around the fact that her mom was or is one. As for Lucas, who did he tell and why did Tess forgive him for turning her mother in?
Taking a sip of the tea before leaning back in the chair and releasing a breath. The Caretender tent is mostly silent except for the few side conversations. My eyes close and I take a few breaths in and out, absorbing the rare silence.
Beep, beep. My pager goes off and my eyes open. A code for emergency surgery and I am up, gathering my notes into my folder while leaving the uneaten banana behind.
. . .
Two days later… I still haven’t seen George Good, and Tess has dropped from bad to worse. Hopefully, the new medication will work, but I am doubtful. There is only so much I can do as her Caretender and only so much the hospital can provide as well.
Another one of my patients- a six year old boy named Ash with a heart defect. Today he is going into surgery to hopefully fix his heart. Before he goes, he needs to get a little checkup to make sure his heart is all healthy and ready for surgery.
Knocking softly on the doorframe to his room. His parents look up to me with warm, hopeful smiles, which I have seen many times. I return their smiles with one of my own.
“Hi, buddy, how are you feeling today?” I ask, walking into his room with the warm smile that hardly leaves my face whenever I talk to patients.
“Okay I guess, Caretender Thela.” His voice filled with sadness.
“Oh buddy, you are going to do just fine in surgery because you are a rock star and you got this.”
“I guess. I am just nervous.”
“I will tell you what, tonight for your dinner you can have Jell-O and pudding.”
“Both of them?” he asks excitedly.
I nod my head yes. “Both of them,” I say, chuckling a little as I get closer to his bed. His parents step out of the way. “Now, all I am going to do is run a few tests to make sure you are all set.”
He nods, knowing the drill by now. First, I check his pulse to make sure it is going at a normal rate, and then his breathing. Everything is normal and good including his temperature. Ash says his birthday when I ask, and just for fun I ask him what his favorite color is to get his mind off the surgery. The final little test is the most important. It’s to check his skin surface where the incision is going to go. With two fingers I press lightly but hard enough around his skin over the heart. Everything is good and he is ready to go in for surgery.
“Good job, everything is good and all set.” Mainly stating it for his parents, while marking it down on his chart.
I page the surgeons, and they are there in a matter of seconds. Ash gives his parents one last hug before the surgeons take him out and roll him to the surgery room. I watch until they turn the corner, and give a little wave. I turn around to see Zac walking up to me.
How is he back here and not in the visiting lounge? I guess he can do anything he wants; he is a High-Rank Protecttender, and there would be no one to stop him because of that.
Crossing my arms and walking toward him, meeting Zac halfway. “Hi, Zac. Why are you out here and not in the visiting lounge?”
“Hi, Thela. They let me in when I told them I am here for you. The lady got up to help me find you. She was really nice for doing that.”
“Yeah, she probably thought you might arrest her if she didn’t, or just thought you are hot. It’s not very often that we get a High-Rank Protecttender down here in the Shelter.”
Zac laughs to himself, locking eyes with me. “Want to go for lunch?”
“Can’t, I have to stay here to be with my patients. You saw the little boy going into surgery.”
“We can eat somewhere close. Come on Thela, you are probably hungry.”
Thinking it over in my head before answering, my stomach growls. “Fine. Let me go clock out. We have maybe an hour and a half, that’s it.”
“Works for me.”
I head to the assessment board to clock out and Zac follows. Some other women Caretenders we pass giggle and turn to whisper to each other like schoolgirls when Zac passes them. I keep walking to clock out, not paying attention to them.
I tell the head desk assistant to call me if there are any problems with any of my patients. She smiles back and says, “Will do.”
A few feet away from the main entrance of the hospital, Zac starts to make conversation to fill in the silence.
“You are a very good Caretender, Thela. Just watching you in the past ten minutes or so, I can see it, but I do think you work a little too hard.”
“Thanks for finally noticing,” I say jokingly. “And work is all I have that really counts.”
Zac nods. “I understand that.” He pauses before continuing with a smile on his face. “We are going to go to that wrap place about twenty minutes away. No buts about it.”
I nod as he opens the passenger door for me. When I am all settled in, he closes the door with a smile and jogs over to the driver’s side to get in. I have never really liked riding in cars, especially ones with the Protecttender symbol, a black shield with the word PROTECTTENDER across it is on the side. It reminds me of my past, of going to the orphanage, but at that time I had no clue where I was heading.
Zac turns on the radio, and I look out the window as neither one of us talk. My eyes start to close, and as soon as I am about to close them all the way, Zac parks the car in front of the wrap place.
It only takes a few minutes to order and get our wraps. As soon as the waiter sets down my wrap, my stomach happily growls at the sight of a real meal. Right away I dive in, looking like a pig, but not caring.
“Wow, you are hungrier than I imagined,” states Zac with a slight, deep chuckle.
I look up to him, then to his plate, then mine. I have already eaten half my wrap, while he only ate less than a quarter of his.
“Sorry,” I mumble, pushing the plate away to take slower and smaller bites. “I haven’t had a real meal in like four years. Usually, I eat something small or don’t eat at all before going back to work. I guess I sort of forgot what a real meal looks like.”
“Well, maybe we can have dinner once a week so you can reacquaint yourself with what a meal looks like,” Zac says lightly, like it’s no big deal, but his eyes scream hope.
“That’s not necessary,” I say, looking down to my wrap.
“I know.” His voice light with real care. He knows how I feel when people do nice things for me and expect nothing in return. The gestures make me feel guilty because I don’t deserve them. My eyes look up to his. “I want to though, Thela. I was there for you when we were younger, and I am here for you now. I’m not giving up on you no matter what, because we- friends need to stick together.”
Smiling back to him with a nod, not knowing what else to do. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.
Why does Zac try so hard to get to know me? If he knew the real me- well, I am a Neuroner. He would just turn me in for the prize. If anyone knew, they would turn me in to get the reward for finding a Neuroner. Money, fame, and well, I don’t know what else they would get. Neuroners are not a blessing, they are cursed. That is, if you get caught for being one.
We finish our meals before going to pay at the counter by the door. Zac insists he pay, and I don’t really bother trying to stop him. The cashier smiles at us, giving Zac his receipt, and we leave. It only takes a couple of minutes before I am asleep from the moving car.
🧠
The hospital for Caretender for Medical a.k.a. the “top dogs” come into view. This is definitely not my memory, and the feeling is sad with a gray gloom over the memory. The memory comes into focus of a hospital room with the heart-rate monitor in a straight line. A beautiful middle aged woman is in the hospital bed. Lying so still, her skin an unnatural ghostly white.
She is dead. She is even beautiful in death.
Small muffled crying noises fill my ears, and I turn my head. A little boy of not even five years old stands all alone in the hospital room. Her son. He tries wiping his tears away, but they keep falling, making his eyes puffy. I want to reach out to give him a hug to help, but I am just a figure watching the memory.
Two Caretenders come in, paying no attention to the crying little boy as they place the sheet over the corpse. They wheel her out of the room, not even acknowledging the little boy. He cries harder, rocking back and forth from the shakes of his cries. No one can see this little boy crying? Does no one cares he just lost his mother? Of course not, they are Caretenders for Medical.
An older man walks in wearing grief, and his face looks the exact same as the little boy’s, just older. He places a hand on the little boy’s shoulder lightly like he is scared to touch him.
“Boy, it’s going to be okay.” The older man’s voice hoarse from crying. “Let’s just go home and get out of this place, boy.” He pauses for a second, and his grip tightens on the little boy’s shoulder. “Boy—Zac, it is going to be hard, but we still have each other.”
Zac? I look at the little boy more closely, and realize there is no mistaking it is Zac. I know his young face, but in this memory he looks even younger. It is his memory. The memory of how he went to the orphanage. But what happened to his father? He is still here taking care of Zac.
My body starts to shake, and the memory fades away to a new one. My vision clears and the memory comes into focus, with me standing in a house. It is a rough looking house with small, decaying holes in the sides and in the roof. Trash and junk is everywhere, with some moldy food here and there. The house smells like a bar with all the drunks still there late at night, even including the smell of throw up, that I assume there is some somewhere.
The sound of shouting at the top of someone’s lungs in the other room fills my ears as soon as the memory comes into complete focus. Carefully, I get closer, and with each step the smell of alcohol gets stronger. Bottles and bottles of empty alcohol are everywhere. Some are broken, and I swear there is dried blood on some of them. A tremble of fear and disgust trembles through my body before I have the chance to stop it.
Standing at the far end of the room is the same older man with a bottle of half drunk alcohol in his hand. Younger Zac stands to the side with crystal clear tears staining his cheeks. The older man yells and yells, but the younger Zac doesn’t say anything, just cries quietly to himself.
Taking a few steps closer, the man slaps Zac across the face. The sound echoes through the entire house, ringing in my ears.
“No!” I scream out, but it’s no use; they can’t hear me.
The man slaps him again, this one harder and louder than the last one, pushing Zac into the wall.
“STOP THAT!” I cry out in horror, forgetting they can’t hear me.
Zac stands back up but doesn’t fight back. His cheek is already bruising in the shape of a handprint. His busted lips are already swallowing. Tears coat his cheeks, but he doesn’t cry out for help or scream at all. The man starts yelling again, saying something that I can’t even understand. He takes a lousy drink out of the bottle before throwing it straight at Zac’s head.
Screaming—screaming before the sound hits my ears. The crash of the bottle is louder than it should be, then it falls to the ground, though some stays attached to Zac’s head. Blood coats his face, but Zac still doesn’t cry out. He is barely standing on his own two feet, and the man—his father grabs him by the collar, pinching his throat.
My vision starts to blur as my body shakes violently.
🧠
Gasping for air, I wake up with Zac right there.
“It’s okay, Thela, it’s just me,” Zac states calmly.
I look into his eyes with horror, noticing the scar on the right side of his forehead peeking out under his hairline. Never noticed it before, never had a reason to notice it, but now it’s all I can see. From the glass. I look back at the same frightened eyes he had as a child.
Zac was in the orphanage because his mother died, and his father was an alcoholic who abused him. My own thoughts slow with horror.
“Thela, wha-”
Before he can finish his sentence, I reach over to give him a tight, safe hug. I don’t really think about it, but I don’t care. Zac hesitates for a few seconds in confusion before returning the hug. We both hold on tightly to each other, not letting go. As he pulls away, his smile is the only thing on his face, and the thing I need to notice.
“I waited for a hug from you for fifteen years. I always thought I would have to force you into a hug,” said Zac looking into my eyes.
I chuckle and smile. “I hope it was worth the wait. I should have given you one a long time ago. Thanks for lunch.”
“Wait,” he says, grabbing my arm gently. “What happened when you were sleeping? You can’t wake up like that and not expect to explain yourself.”
“I just had a bad dream, that’s all. I am fine, but I am glad you were here when I woke up.”
Zac slides his hand down, placing it over mine, and looks me straight in the eyes, not threateningly. “Thela, are you sure you are okay?” I nod. “You know you can call and talk to me anytime and I will be there for you.”
“I know Zac.” I pause to think over my options. “Zac, I will take your offer of having a meal together once a week.”
His eyes light up. “Really?”
“Yeah, it might be some crazy hour if that is okay.”
“That’s fine. Just give me a call.”
Nodding as I open the car door, but stopping myself to say one last thing. “Thanks for not giving up on me, and making sure I was and am alright even after all these years.”
He smiles a smile that says everything will be alright. “You’re welcome, Thela.”
Walking back to the hospital and clocking myself back in. A note is left for me telling me Ash is still in surgery. So far, everything has gone as expected. Beep, beep. My pager goes off with a simple code for Tess wanting to see me. I look at my watch to read 6:20 p.m.
Knocking lightly on her door frame, and Tess looks up from her dinner with a warm smile.
“You paged me?” I ask lightly.
“Yes, can you please close the door behind you?” she asks kind of nervously.
Looking at her with concern before closing the door. I go to her bedside, pulling the chair closer. “Is everything okay, Tess?” I ask with concern in my voice.
She nods with a small weak smile. “Caretender Thela, I trust you and I really do appreciate how hard you are working to keep me alive. That is the main reason I trust you. My other Caretender just didn’t seem to care about me and just saw me as a project to fix. You, though, you do care for me and fight for my health no matter what time it is. What I am about to tell you, can you keep it just between us?”
“Tess, please don’t tell me you want to quit after all of this, that you just want to die.”
“What? No, nothing like that, and sorry for making you panic. What I want to say involves the test I took to see if I am a Neuroner. It—it was a false negative.”
“False negative” rings in my ears, not comprehending what that means. “What?” I breathe, my mind clicking together what a false negative means.
“I am a Neuroner. When they tested me, all I had to do was push the feeling down so it came out as a negative. People say all the time that Neuroners are a blessing, but in reality, they are a-”
“Curse,” I say it in a little daze, knowing the feeling. Shaking out of my daze to look at Tess, seeing the confusion on her face.
“Yeah. How did you know I was going to say that?”
“I, um, know because I have heard it before. Don’t worry though, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe.”
Tess looks at me with more confusion before breaking into a small smile and nodding her head. “Thank you, Caretender Thela.”
I nod before getting up to leave the room. Tess is a Neuroner. She did the same trick I did years ago, and I can’t blame her for it.
I head to the assessment board, but another Caretender stops me behind the desk.
“Thela, you got a letter,” they say, handing it to me. I take it with a smile.
“Thank you,” I say as an afterthought, still trying to wrap my head around Tess’s words.
Who sent me a letter? I hardly get letters, and they are always a nice surprise. I open the letter like it’s a Christmas gift on Christmas Day, the kind that I hardly got. My nerves are buzzing with excitement for the surprise. Oh, what a surprise it is.
Thela, I know what you are. Soon more people will find out and you will be placed under an owner. Do what I say and that won’t happen. Find me. Then we will talk. Be careful, any wrong move and the people you love or have respect for will pay for your actions. I will give you a clue about who I am. I know all about you, but you don’t know me. That is, what you remember, if any.
-Careful-
All the excitement and the smile, is gone and replaced with worry and fear. I look around nervously, feeling like someone is watching me now. I shove the letter in my scrubs pocket and quickly run to the Caretender tent with panicky fear in my veins.