PRESENT TENSE
Chapter Thirty-Seven

Friday, July 18, 2003

Helga pulled her pillow over her head as Jack’s alarm went off. When it hadn’t been shut off after a moment, she banged on the wall.

"Jack! Turn off your alarm!"

The alarm kept beeping. Grumbling, Helga got out of bed and went to Jack’s door, knocking. "Jack? Are you in there?"

She opened the door slowly, peeking inside. No one was there. She hurried over and shut off the alarm, and then realized that another alarm was also going off, this one in Rose’s room.

After turning off the second alarm, she went looking for her roommates. "Jack? Rose? Where are you?"

She finally found them. They were snuggled together on the couch in the living room, sound asleep. Helga shook them.

"Jack! Rose! It’s 4:30. You need to wake up."

Jack opened his eyes blearily and looked at her, then closed them again. Helga shook the two again. This time, Rose sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"What?" she asked, grouchy at having her sleep disturbed.

"It’s 4:30. I shut off your alarms."

"Oh. Thank you." She shook Jack. "Jack, wake up. We need to get ready to go."

"I am ready," Jack told her, trying to fall back asleep. Rose got up, disturbing him.

"You need to get a shower and put some clean clothes on. You’ve been wearing those since yesterday."

"Leave me alone, Rose."

"No, get up. We have to leave in twenty minutes."

He finally sat up, putting one hand on his aching head. "I’m not so sure I want to do this."

"Get cleaned up?"

"No, the surgery. Maybe I should just stay home."

"You’ll probably live longer if you have it done. Come on, get up."

"Oh, all right." He stumbled in the direction of his room.

Rose looked at Helga, her worry evident. The envelope that Jack had given her a few hours earlier was lying beside her on the couch.

Helga tried to soothe her. "Memorial Hospital’s neurosurgeon, Dr. Patel, is one of the top surgeons in California. Jack’s in good hands."

"I know, but still...it is dangerous surgery, and he’s in such poor health..."

"And he’ll probably die if he doesn’t have it done, but he has a better chance of living if he goes through with it."

"Jack asked me to make the decision on what to do if something goes seriously wrong." Rose showed Helga the envelope.

"I hope that nothing does, but...you’re probably the best person to make such decisions for him. Certainly, you’re much more trustworthy than his uncle in Wisconsin."

"I’ve heard that he and Jack don’t get along."

"Jack’s uncle, William Dawson, is...something else. He absolutely detests Jack, because Jack spent time in juvenile hall. According to him, once a person messes up, they’re worthless scum, incapable of being any good, and the world would be better off without them. A forgiving person he isn’t."

Rose shook her head, walking down the hall with Helga to her room. She pulled out some clothes and dressed quickly. "No wonder Jack wanted the decision to be in my hands. I wouldn’t trust his uncle any farther than I could throw him."

"Jack’s cousin, Emmaline, is okay. She and Jack exchange e-mail and art news. They’re both big on art, a fact that William Dawson also detests."

"He doesn’t sound like a very happy person. Have you met him?"

"I talked to him on the phone once, when Jack first moved here last summer. He wasn’t very pleasant."

"What was he calling about?"

"He was trying to warn us about what a horrible person his nephew is. Since I’d already known Jack for the better part of a year, I didn’t listen. He’s a thoroughly unpleasant person."

"Sounds like it."

A knock came on the door as Rose was finishing dressing. "Rose? Are you ready to go? It’s past five." Jack’s voice came from outside the door.

"I’ll be ready in a minute," she called, running a brush through her hair. A moment later, she came out of her room, Helga following her.

Jack had showered quickly and put on some clean clothes. His hair was still damp, his clothes hanging off his thin frame. He nodded to Helga and followed Rose down to the kitchen.

Tommy was there, fixing a pot of coffee. He wasn’t usually up this early, but he wanted to wish his roommate and friend good luck.

As Rose dug in her purse for her car keys, Helga put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. "Good luck, Jack," she told him quietly.

Tommy walked over from the other side of the kitchen. "Yeah, good luck," he said. "I hope everything goes well."

Jack hesitated for a moment, then hugged each of his friends, looking around the room, wondering if he would ever be back.

"Come on," Rose told him. "We need to get going." She held the door for him as they made their way out into the front yard and quickly crossed the street to Rose’s car.

They were quiet on the way to the hospital, each lost in their own thoughts. Rose played the radio quietly, trying not to worry. Jack watched the road go by, trying to memorize every detail of the world he saw, in case it was the last time.

They arrived at Memorial Hospital at 5:55, just a few minutes early. Before they left the car, Rose reached over and squeezed Jack’s hand reassuringly. She could feel his hand shaking slightly from nervousness, so she walked beside him to the door, her arm interlocked with his.

When they arrived in the waiting room, Jack went to sign in while Rose sat down and waited for him. They sat together for about fifteen minutes, holding hands. No one paid much notice to them; worried friends, relatives, and patients were common here.

When a nurse came out and called for Jack, he stood, then stopped, hesitating. Rose stood beside him.

"Come on, Jack," she whispered. "You have to do this. You know that."

He shook his head. "I don’t think I can go through with it."

"You can." She hugged him, feeling him shaking. He was absolutely terrified. "It’s going to be all right," she told him. "I know it will."

He slowly stepped away from her. "I love you, Rose," he told her softly, before turning and disappearing through the door.

Rose waited for a while, knowing that she would probably be allowed to see him once more before they took him in for surgery.

A nurse finally called to her, allowing her to come back and see him once more before the procedure. Rose went through the door and found him lying on a stretcher, an IV already attached to his arm. He was a great deal calmer than he had been earlier, and Rose surmised that they had probably given him a shot of Valium to calm him down.

"Rose," he greeted her.

"Hey, Jack. How are you feeling?"

He shrugged. "A little better. I think they gave me some kind of tranquilizer."

"Valium, probably. That’s what’s usually used, or so my grandmother says."

"They say it should take six to eight hours. I’ll probably be done between one and three."

"I’m leaving work at two, so I should be here when you wake up, or shortly thereafter." She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently and giving him a quick kiss. "I love you, Jack. I’ve already talked to the people at the front desk. They’ll call me at work if anything...happens."

"Thank you, Rose." He squeezed her hand back. "I love you, Rose, and...I trust you."

Rose smiled at him. "I know you do."

"Don’t forget...what you promised."

"I won’t forget." She let go of his hand. "I’ll see you later, Jack. I have to go back to Masline now and go to work." She patted his hand one more time and turned to leave, looking back once. Jack waved to her and she hurried away, heading back to Masline.

*****

Rose was a nervous wreck that day. In contrast to her usual calm, gentle tone, she snapped at difficult clients and jumped every time the phone rang, fearing that it was the hospital calling to tell her that something had gone horribly wrong. She worked herself into an even more nervous state until one of the therapists told her to calm down and take a deep breath and her supervisor sent her to work in the chart room because she was making the clients nervous.

Rose left work at two o’clock. She had skipped lunch since she was leaving early, but she didn’t really have much of an appetite anyway. As usual, her emotions got in the way of her appetite.

As Rose drove down the freeway to Southland, she continued to worry. No one had called to say that anything had gone wrong, but what if they had forgotten her request, or ignored it? What if something had happened after she left work? A thousand worries flew through her mind. When she reached Memorial Hospital, she almost leaped from her car.

Forcing herself to appear calm, Rose walked into the waiting room and inquired after Jack. The nurse told her that he was out of surgery now and should wake up shortly. She gave Rose his room number, and Rose hurried to the elevator.

While she walked down the hall, searching for Jack’s room, she prayed that everything had gone well. Jack had been through so much already; it just didn’t seem right that anything else should go wrong. But things didn’t always go the way that people wanted.

She found the room that he was in and went inside. Jack was in the bed closest to the door, still asleep. She sat down beside him and took his hand, hoping that he would wake up soon. She remembered the terrible days following the earthquake, when Jack had lain in a coma for three days and she had feared that he would never wake up. She stroked his hand gently, waiting.

After about ten minutes, Jack stirred, his hand moving in hers. Rose sat forward, waiting. A moment later, he opened his eyes.

"Jack?" Rose spoke softly. "How are you doing?"

He looked at her strangely, then moved his free hand to rub his eyes. After a moment, he looked at her again.

"I didn’t think there were two of you," he said quietly.

Rose was confused for a minute, but then remembered that general anesthesia could sometimes cause double vision. Her grandfather had experienced the same thing when he’d had surgery for cancer.

"Rose?" Jack asked. "Is it over?"

"Yes," Rose told him, smiling. "It’s over, and you’re still alive. How do you feel?"

He considered the question for a minute, his hand moving to touch his head. Gingerly, he felt the bandage on the back of his head, then commented, "I still have hair."

"Yes. They only shaved the back of your head. But how are you feeling?"

He looked at her. "Better," he said. "It doesn’t hurt anymore."

"That’s wonderful," Rose told him, smiling. Maybe this time things would be better.

Dr. Patel came in to examine his patient. He checked him over, and then nodded approvingly. "So far, so good," he told them. "It will still be a couple of weeks before we know for sure how well things went," he cautioned. "There may still be some problems."

But as Jack looked up at her and gave her the first real smile that she had seen in weeks, Rose knew that, this time, everything was going to be all right.

Chapter Thirty-Eight
Stories