Chapter 12  - Hats

 

When Brian woke up after a long sleep, he felt a renewed sense of hope. The hopelessness that had pervaded his soul ever since he had woken up seemed to have lifted, and although his usual sparkle had not yet returned, his eyes had regained a little of their luster. Life seemed to be returning to him, little by little. A.J.’s words stayed with him, and it was as if seeing Nick and Kevin, and shedding his tears had cleansed him somehow. Their undecided fate still tore at him, but knowing that A.J. and Howie were right by his side he felt he was better able to face it. Dr. Westin was amazed at this turnaround, but at the same time he was delighted.

 

When Brian’s family arrived that morning, he was eager for their company.

 

“You look a lot better than yesterday,” Harold remarked, pleased to see his brother up and alert. He had adjusted the bed so that he was in a sitting position, and smiled at them when they came in. Mrs. Littrell shed tears of joy when she saw him, for it was the first time that his smile had been genuine.

 

“Hey Mom,” he said, chuckling a bit as she hugged him. “I feel a lot better,” he told his brother.

 

“Ready to go out and play basketball?” Harold asked with a grin.

 

“Just bring me a ball. I was telling Howie that yesterday.”

 

“We hear you went up to see Kevin and Nick yesterday,” his father said.

 

“Yeah, I did.”

 

They watched him worriedly, looking for his reaction. Brian sighed.

 

“I broke. It was really hard. But A.J. helped me realize that it was either pull through and be strong for them and myself, or lie down and die. And seeing A.J. and Howie in there with me, I knew that wasn’t an option. I’m not exactly where I want to be yet,” he added. “I’m pretty sure there are tears up there yet that are going to come out whether I like it or not. Amazingly enough I’m not dry yet,” he said with a lopsided smile. “But I think I’ll be ok. I just couldn’t deal with it before.”

 

“I’m just glad to have the old Brian back with us,” his mother told him.

 

“I don’t know if I’m all back in one piece,” he admitted. “But I’m certainly not broken all over the floor. And actually, there are two people that swept me up that I need to thank.”

 

*     *     *

 

Dr. Westin had sentenced A.J. to bed rest after another examination. He was unhappy with the healing of his ribs and his knee.

 

“You shouldn’t have been out of bed so much if your chest was hurting you this badly,” he’d said disapprovingly. A.J. had just shrugged at him. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

 

“If you want to heal properly you need to cooperate,” he said sternly.

 

“I’ll tell you what,” A.J. said. “If you can get me my leopard print cowboy hat, I will cooperate with anything you say.”

 

Howie almost choked on the water he was drinking. 

 

“What?” Dr. Westin asked, baffled at his request.

 

“Your hat?” Howie exclaimed.

 

“That’s right. I want my hat.”

 

Howie groaned. “Oh God, we’re in trouble now.”

 

“I’m not sure I’m following you,” Dr. Westin said.

 

“Ask my mother,” A.J. said. “She said she’d be here around noon. She’ll know.”

 

Westin stared at him for a moment, and then just shook his head. “I don’t believe this. It had to be the Backstreet Boys,” he muttered as he exited the room.

 

Howie burst out laughing after his departure, and then clutched his rib cage while making a face. “Ow!” he grimaced. “I cannot believe you!” he said, turning to A.J, who saw nothing unusual about his request.

 

“I haven’t been able to do my hair or dress in any of my clothes in over a week now. I’m tired of being a patient on their terms,” he said simply. “I’m stuck in these damn hospital gowns, I’ve got more injuries than I can count, several of which have messed with my tattoos, which needless to say really pisses me off, and I can’t even walk. I want something to be my way.”

 

“Whatever you say, A.J,” Howie said, deciding not to argue with him.

 

After that, A.J. decided to take another nap. Howie picked up a magazine to pass the time. He was surprised to see a picture of themselves on the cover. It hurt a little to see Nick and Kevin’s smiling faces. It was one of their “happy” photos where all five of them were grinning.

 

“Man, we are all over the news!” he said to himself as he browsed a few of the other magazines in the stack beside his bed. He couldn’t believe some of the outrageous stories that had been printed. “I have got to have that press conference and clear up some of this nonsense,” he muttered, disgusted. He abandoned the magazines and picked up a book. After awhile, he’d had enough of that too. I’m so sick of doing nothing! he thought to himself. “Maybe they will let me go up to see Nick and Kevin again,” he wondered aloud. 

 

“Mind if I come with you?” a voice interrupted him. He looked up quickly to see Brian in his doorway, accompanied by Harold pushing his wheelchair.

 

“Brian! Wow, I wasn’t expecting to see you!” he said happily. “Damn, you look a lot better than yesterday.”

 

“Thanks,” he said, flashing a smile as he lowered his eyes, embarrassed. “I feel a lot better.” He hesitated, and looked down at his hands.  “I’m not allowed to stay here too long, but I wanted to tell you and A.J. thank you.”

 

“B-Rok, you say it yourself. We are like a family. And we are always going to be there for each other. You don’t have to thank anyone.”

 

“Yes, I do. I should have been there for the two of you, and I wasn’t. All I could think about was myself. I’m sorry.”

 

“Brian, look at me,” Howie ordered. “You were thinking of Nick and Kevin. That’s who you were thinking about. Don’t talk nonsense.”

 

“Like I said before, I can’t argue with you Howie,” Brian said, although he still wasn’t convinced. He decided to change the subject. “I guess A.J. is snoozing,” he said, nodding toward A.J.’s bed.

 

“Yeah,” Howie chuckled. “He fell asleep after telling Dr. Westin that unless he got his leopard print cowboy hat he was going to quit being a good patient.”

 

“He what?”

 

“That’s what I said. I don’t know about you, but I think he’s slept long enough.”

 

“What are you proposing?”

 

“You are the king of practical jokes, what do you suggest?”

 

Brian smiled. “Well, I’ve got plenty, but I think he needs to heal a little more first.” He thought for a moment.  “How about this,” he said, and cleared his throat.

 

Sometimes I wish I could, turn back time

Impossible as it may seem

But I wish I could, so bad, baby

Quit playing games with my heart,”

 

Howie was grinning, and eagerly joined in.

 

Quit playing games with my heart,”

 

With my heart,”

 

Before you tear us apart,”

 

My heart,”

 

Quit playing games with my heart,”

 

I should have known from the start,”

 

You know you gotta stop,”

 

From my heart,”

 

You’re tearing us apart,”

 

Quit playing games with my heart,”

 

Howie yelped as A.J.’s pillow smacked him in the head.

 

“Oh baby, baby, the sleep that I had was so good,” A.J. growled along with the song. “And that really hurt my shoulder,” he complained, rubbing it. “God that sounded awful.” He snickered, and was thrilled when Brian joined in. Any irritation at being woken up vanished at the sight of Brian up and cheerful.

 

“You do,” Brian said with a smile. “I came to say thank you.”

 

“And since you have,” Harold said, “You are now going back to your room, or Mom will have my head.”

 

“What,” A.J. said with a lazy grin. “You couldn’t have waited until a reasonable hour of the afternoon to wake me up? It’s not even noon yet!”

 

Brian laughed. And honest to goodness laugh. Howie grinned in response and thwacked his stolen pillow against A.J.’s bed. “Go back to sleep Bone.”

 

“Make up your mind, will you? Geez,” he grumbled. “Give me back my pillow.”

 

Howie handed him the pillow. He would have thrown it, but was afraid that he would hurt him. Harold pushed Brian out of the room and back into the hall. A nurse walked by and grinned at him.

 

“If y’all keep singing like that, you are going to alert the fans to where you are,” she told him.

 

“Let them hear,” Brian said, waving his arm weakly. His excitement was starting to catch up to him, and he felt a little woozy. “I felt like doing some caterwauling.”

 

“I could tell.”

 

“Seriously. Let me music heal your soul, man. Woman,” he corrected hastily. Harold made as if to bat the back of his head.

 

“You touch me and I’ll have every teenage girl in this city on your ass,” Brian warned with a drowsy smile.

 

“You’re half asleep. You’d better stop talking before you hurt yourself.”

 

“Too late.”

 

*     *     *

 

“Well Brian is a relief,” A.J. said later after he’d had a satisfactory nap.

 

“What do you mean?” Howie asked distractedly. He was reading from yet another of the piles of get well wishes that had come from the fans.

 

“Well, you saw him earlier. Hell, he started singing,”

 

“We sang yesterday too,” Howie pointed out.  A.J.’s face sobered.

 

“That was different,” he said quietly.

 

“Yeah, I guess it was.” He was quiet for a moment.  “I guess seeing them and all did him a lot of good. I hoped it would.”

 

“Well, it is a relief. He was really starting to worry me.”

 

“Me too,” Howie admitted. “Oh,” he remembered suddenly, “Your mom said that she’s taken care of your hat, and it will be here soon.”

 

A.J. looked pleased. “Leave it to my mother. She can work miracles.”

 

“Can she work one on Kevin and Nick?” Howie asked without thinking. A.J. stared at him.

 

“Sorry,” he said hastily. “I shouldn’t have said that. I wasn’t thinking.”

 

“You’re forgiven, but only because I’m getting my hat.”

 

Chapter 13

Index