Just one?
He nodded.
Well what is it? she said.
Cobalt, he said.
What’s that?
It’s new, a real breakthrough, apparently.
Okay, that sounds good; that sounds promising.
Yeah.
What’s the matter? Can’t we use it?
He paused.
No, he said, we can use it.
What’s the problem then? she said.
He sighed.
Seems cobalt’s pretty effective at killin cancer cells; only trouble is, it kills the healthy ones too.
The healthy cells?
Yeah.
It could damage her? she said.
He nodded.
Badly?
He nodded again, then shut his eyes, and opened them again.
Lapitus isn’t sure her body could take it, he said.
Oh God, Jim.
Don’t, he said.
Don’t what?
Just—
He got out of bed.
What are you doing? she said, sitting up.
He went into the bathroom and locked the door. At the sink, he ran the tap cold, scooped his hands beneath the surface and put his face into the water. He pushed his fingers into his hair and turned and sat on the toilet. His elbows dug holes in his knees and he shut his eyes. He could hear her sobbing in the bedroom. He felt sick. He went out and held her. After a while, she said, she handled it all so well.
Yes, he said, she did.
Our girl.
Our girl.
She’s tough, Jim; she’s got so much spirit, so much fight in her.
It doesn’t matter, hon, he said, gently.
She’s not like other kids; of course it matters.
It doesn’t matter.
Stop saying that, would you? She’s a fighter, she can beat this.
No, he said. She can’t.
Grace stood up, her eyes silver in the low light.
Stop it! she said. Jesus Christ! Just shut up, would you? Just shut up!
Grace—
What the fuck is wrong with you? She will beat this.
No, honey, she won’t, he said. He looked at the floor. She’ll be dead by Christmas.
They slept fitfully. A glittering darkness pervaded their dreams. Harrison stood outside a house. Men were working on it. He recognized it as the house he’d lived in as a boy. He felt excitement. One of the men said, you want to look inside? He nodded. The door opened. Inside, in vivid detail, he saw things from the first years of his life. A clock. A vase. A chair. A painting. He didn’t realize, until then, that he’d remembered them. And he felt a terrible ache inside him. And he cried with nostalgia, and he cried with joy, and he woke, and there were no tears on his face, and his eyes were dry. Grace murmured next to him. He breathed hard into the silence. He held on to his sleep, and disappeared again.
At the end of the week the nurses brought Florence a cake and hung red balloons above her bed and everyone sang Happy Birthday and Florence blew out two tall candles and they all clapped.
Happy birthday, sweetheart, Grace said.
Thanks for doing this, Harrison said to Clara.
My pleasure, Clara said. She’s so sweet.
The other nurses smiled and Lapitus came in and said, what’d I miss?
My birthday! Florence said. I got two candles.
So you did, he said. And this is for you.
He handed her a wrapped package. Happy birthday, he said.
Mommy I got a present! she said.
Yes you did, Grace said. What do you say?
Thank you, Florence said.
To Doctor Lapitus.
Thank you, Florence said to Lapitus.
You’re very welcome, Lapitus said.
Are you going to open it? Grace said.
Inside was a cotton head scarf, patterned with yellow, pink and red flowers.
Thank you, Grace said to Lapitus.
He smiled and said, now, you’ll have to excuse me, I have rounds to do.
Thanks, doc, Harrison said.
Lapitus left. Grace helped her daughter with the head scarf. The X-rays had left Florence with a large bald spot beneath her crown.
Just what you need, Duck, Grace said.
Anyone want a drink? Harrison said.
You going down to the lounge? Grace said.
Yeah.
I could use a coffee.
Sure thing.
Ladies? he said to the nurses.
Thanks, but we’d better get on, Clara said.
The nurses wished Florence a happy birthday again and left.
Be back in a minute, Harrison said, and followed them out.
The lounge was on the first floor. He took the stairs. He could see the concrete floor of the basement, six stories below. He held on to the handrail and walked down. The lounge was full of people. They stood around a television set that had been wheeled in, black power cable curling through an open door nearby. Harrison frowned, walked over, stood at the back of the crowd next to an old man in a robe.
What’s goin on? Harrison said. The man turned and looked at him. Then he looked at his feet and walked away. Harrison frowned, turned to his left, where a surgeon in blue scrubs stood holding a coffee.
More riots? Harrison said.
The surgeon shook his head and said, no—Shepard.
Harrison shifted his feet and managed to see the screen.
This is incredible, the surgeon said. This is insane. I actually feel a little sick. He laughed.