Tales Part III: The Conclusion

This is the final installment of Thomas Tales (working title).  The final two stories featured in my paper for English Composition.  After this post I'll go back to the normal shenanigans and tri/running themed posts.  Thank you for reading these stories.  It's been fun sharing it.  Without further ado, the conclusion:

(If you missed a part you can click the links below)
Part One
Part Two

Age 17

It's been a frigid January and Dad just got out of the hospital.  THIS IS NOTHING NEW.  HE HAS BEEN IN AND OUT OF THE HOSPITAL FOR YEARS.  The most recent visit was complications from his blood disorder.  It's a Friday and when I get home from school, Dad is in his bedroom lying down. 

This is a rare moment for me because he's in tears.  Years of being yelled at and seeing him sick have desensitized me to his pain.  I left the house to go to my friend's house.

            Later that night Mom called me and he was back in the hospital.  They were transferring him to the Cleveland Clinic.

            After school, the next week, Mom, my sister, and I head up to see Dad.  Everything feels different this time around.  When we walk into the room, he's talking loudly and he barely recognizes us.  He wasn't incoherent enough to get into a spat with my Mom.  We say our goodbyes and our "I love yous" and make our way home.  It's a long drive.

            It's the last week before the end of the second nine weeks and I'm in my psychology class.  I'm not social at school and mostly keep to myself.  There's a girl in my class named Holly and she is telling people I once glued my hand to a desk at Sunday school.  This is not something I remember doing and I probably would remember if I had.  She must be bored if she has to make up rumors about me.  The bell rings and I make my way to English class, which is conveniently in the next classroom over.  A second bell rings letting us know that class is set to begin and my teacher gets a phone call.  In the past, I've always wished the phone calls were for me so I could get out of class.  This time I knew it was my name called.  Mr. Bolton says, "Thomas, you need to go to the office, bring your books."  The office is a football field's length down the hall from the classroom.  I see my sister standing outside the office. 

She's the only person in the hallway and she has tears in her eyes.

            We left my truck at school and headed to my sister's apartment to grab a few things.  She recently found out that she's pregnant.  On our way, a song starts playing.  My sister tells me that I used to sing the song with Dad all the time.  The song doesn't ring a bell.  It's nothing popular but oddly enough, it's on the radio.

"I'm just an ordinary average guy
My friends are all boring
And so am I

We're just ordinary average guys

We all live ordinary average lives
With average kids
And average wives
We all go bowling at the bowling lanes
Drink a few beers
Bowl a few frames
We're just ordinary average guys

Ordinary average guys

And every Saturday we work in the yard
Pick up the dog do
Hope that it's hard (woof woof)
Take out the garbage and clean out the garage
My friend's got a Chrysler
I've got a Dodge
We're just ordinary average guys

Ordinary average guys

Ordinary average guy
Ordinary average guy
Ordinary average guy
Ordinary average average guys"

"Ordinary Average Guy" - Joe Walsh

 She proceeds to tell me that I don't remember anything from my childhood.  Maybe I did glue my hand to a table.

            Mom was already at the hospital with all of our extended family.  Immediate family came down to Massillon in the past, but since we were in Cleveland, around extended family, the whole pack was there.  The doctor says that overnight my dad had a heart attack and his kidneys failed.  If he came out, he would have little brain activity.  The doctor called Mom, my sister, and me into a separate room to ask us what we wanted to do.  A miracle happened before, let's try for another one.  There was nothing more we could do that day but wait.  We went home with assurance from the doctors that they would call us if anything changed.  Mom dropped me off at school for my truck.  This truck is almost as old as I am.  Dad always wanted a truck and this is the one he bought.  A rusty, dinged up, black and red 1988 Chevy S-10.  I hope it starts.

            It's the middle of the night and someone wakes me up.  Everything is a blur but now I'm in my Mom's car.  I look out the window and we're on a small highway.  The car temporarily illuminates under each highway light.  Mom is speeding.  Forty-five minutes pass and we get off the highway in East Cleveland.  This isn't the best place for a family to be in the twilight hours.  A police officer pulls us over and Mom goes over the edge.  The officer approaches the window to hear Mom say "Its three in the morning, I have two kids with me, and my husband is dying.  I have to go."  He let's us go without a ticket or a warning. 

            The three of us make it to the hospital in time to see Dad's last breath.

Age 25

            Aimee, our soon-to-be two-year-old Savannah, and I head out for a walk.  It's early September.  Aimee is nine months pregnant and isn't enjoying this family bonding time.  She's out here because she has an ulterior motive: get this kid out of me.  I'm making up the route as I go and we take a left turn towards a hill.  At this point, of our walk, it's been less than a quarter mile but beads of sweat already start forming on our brows.  Savannah is chilling out in her stroller.  The final tally of our walk is two miles.  No new baby.

            A few weeks later Aimee has a check up with her doctor and I tell her to bring the hospital bag we packed.  Just in case.  She's skeptical.  Weeks of trying to induce labor will do that to a person.  After much prodding, she caves and brings the bag.  Right before lunch Aimee calls me.  It's go time but first I have to stop home to lock the door.  Apparently, I'm not as prepared as I thought.

            Driving home, I ran into road construction and a woman flagging traffic through.  I never thought I'd have to use this line but I call her over to my car. 

"My wife is pregnant and I need to get to the hospital!"

She doesn't care about by my plea.  This always worked on TV.  I don't know the backstreets of the neighborhood I was in but I decided to try my luck anyhow.  By the time I made it out of construction the car that was behind me in line went by.  I turned my head in the opposite direction so I didn't see their face.  I don’t want to see any grins.

            Aimee, my mother in law, and Savannah are waiting for me in the room and a small light on the bottom of the wall amazes Savannah.  Aimee's aunt arrives and I transfer Savannah's car seat, bag of clothes, and a jug of whole milk from our car to her Aunt's SUV.  She takes Savannah to her house for a sleepover.  After she leaves more family files in sister in law, father in law, and Mom.  It was nice having everyone there to share the moment.  Almost two years ago, when Savannah was born, there was a swine flu epidemic and no more than two people could be in the delivery room before delivery.  No one under the age of seventeen was allowed in the maternity ward, period.  This upset Aimee and her sister because her sister was only sixteen at the time.  She was afraid she wouldn't be able to see her first niece.  These guidelines weren't strictly enforced by the nursing staff because our nurse told us to have her come up after delivery.

            Within a few hours of Aimee's arrival, she was ready for labor.  The second time around seemed much easier than the first.  Our first time Aimee had to remind me to breathe because I held my breath on every push.  No such problem the second go around.  Addison, like Savannah, is perfect.