“Did he seem all right after the accident?”
“Yes. He had a lump on the back of his head, but otherwise he—he seemed fine.”
“Did you notice any lapse of memory?”
“No.”
“Any personality changes?”
“No.”
“No convulsions or stiff neck or headache?”
“No.”
The doctor stopped writing and looked up at Jennifer. “I’ve had an X ray done, but it’s not enough. I want to do a CAT scan.”
“A—?”
“It’s a new computerized machine from England that takes pictures of the inside of the brain. I may want to make some additional tests afterward. Is that all right with you?”
“If-if-if”—she was stammering—“it’s necessary. It-it won’t hurt him, will it?”
“No. I may also need to do a spinal puncture.”
He was frightening her.
She forced the question out of her mouth. “What do you think it is? What’s the matter with my son?” She did not recognize the sound of her own voice.
“I’d prefer not to make any guesses, Mrs. Parker. We’ll know in an hour or two. He’s awake now, if you’d like to see him.”
“Oh, please!”
A nurse led her to Joshua’s room. He was lying in bed, a pale small figure. He looked up as Jennifer entered.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hi there.” She sat at the edge of his bed. “How do you feel?”
“Kind of funny. It’s like I’m not here.”
Jennifer reached out and took his hand. “You’re here, darling. And I’m with you.”
“I can see two of everything.”
“Did—did you tell the doctor that?”
“Uh-huh. I saw two of him. I hope he doesn’t send you two bills.”
Jennifer gently put her arms around Joshua and hugged him. His body seemed frail and shrunken.
“Mom?”
“Yes, darling?”
“You won’t let me die, will you?”
Her eyes were suddenly stinging. “No, Joshua, I won’t let you die. The doctors are going to make you well and then I’m going to take you home.”
“Okay. And you promised we can go back to Acapulco sometime.”
“Yes. As soon as—”
He was asleep.
Dr. Morris came into the room with two men wearing white jackets.
“We’d like to begin the tests now, Mrs. Parker. They won’t take long. Why don’t you wait in here and make yourself comfortable?”
Jennifer watched them take Joshua out of the room. She sat on the edge of the bed, feeling as though she had been physically beaten. All the energy had drained out of her. She sat there, staring at the white wall, in a trance.
A moment later a voice said, “Mrs. Parker—”
Jennifer looked up and Dr. Morris was there.
“Please go ahead and do the tests,” Jennifer said.
He looked at her oddly. “We’ve finished.”
Jennifer looked at the clock on the wall. She had been sitting there for two hours. Where had the time gone? She looked into the doctor’s face, reading it, searching for the small, telltale signs that would reveal whether he had good news or bad news for her. How many times had she done this before, reading the faces of jurors, knowing in advance from their expressions what the verdict would be? A hundred times? Five hundred? Now, because of the panic raging within her, Jennifer could tell nothing. Her body began to shake uncontrollably.
Dr. Morris said, “Your son is suffering from a subdural hematoma. In layman’s terms, there has been a massive trauma to his brain.”
Her throat was suddenly so dry that no words could come out.
“Wh—” She swallowed and tried again. “What does that—?” She could not finish the sentence.
“I want to operate immediately. I’ll need your permission.”
He was playing some kind of cruel prank on her. In a moment he was going to smile and tell her that Joshua was fine. I was just punishing you, Mrs. Parker, for wasting my time. There’s nothing wrong with your son except that he needs sleep. He’s a growing boy. You mustn’t take up our time when we have patients to look after who are really ill. He was going to smile at her and say, “You can take your son home now.”
Dr. Morris was going on. “He’s young and his body seems strong. There’s every reason to hope the operation will be a success.”
He was going to cut open her baby’s brain, tear into it with his sharp instruments, perhaps destroy whatever it was that made Joshua, Joshua. Perhaps—kill him.
“No!” It was an angry cry.
“You won’t give us permission to operate?”
“I—” Her mind was so confused she could not think. “Wh—what will happen if you don’t operate?”
Dr. Morris said simply, “Your son will die. Is the boy’s father here?”
Adam! Oh, how she wanted Adam, how she wanted to feel his arms around her, comforting her. She wanted him to tell her that everything was going to be all right, that Joshua was going to be fine.
“No,” Jennifer replied finally, “he’s not. I—I give you my permission. Go ahead with the operation.”
Dr. Morris filled out a form and handed it to her. “Would you sign this, please?”
Jennifer signed the paper without looking at it. “How long will it take?”
“I won’t know until I open—” He saw the look on her face. “Until I begin the operation. Would you like to wait here?”