CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Slipping Away
Dan was asleep before David had even pulled out of the Addison parking lot, and David smiled as cheers erupted once again from the stadium behind him. Evidently, Ted’s home run had not been the last of the South Pickens fireworks in the fifth inning.
Once David was on the road, though, he looked across the seat at his slumbering son, and all the mirth drained from his body. Dan’s face was slack and white, and he was breathing deeply and regularly. His shoulder belt held his upper body in place, but his head slumped and bobbed forward, causing his neck to crane toward the dash so far David feared any bump might cause damage.
David pulled onto the berm, reached across the seat to unfasten Dan’s seat belt, stretched the boy across the seat, and laid Dan’s head in his lap. He fastened the lap belt around Dan’s waist and snapped himself back into the driver’s seat. It was not the most secure riding arrangement David had ever seen, but he thought it would be good enough to keep Dan from sliding off the seat, and it would protect his neck. Besides, David was in no hurry and would drive very carefully.
When they arrived home just over an hour later, Clara’s car was already in the driveway, and the kitchen light was on. It was barely 7:30 and the sun hung low in the late spring sky, but the Hodges house was situated under a grove of walnut trees that provided enough shade to make it feel like night.
David hopped out of the cab and walked around to Dan’s side of the truck. There, he opened the door, unfastened Dan’s seatbelt once again, and slid the young man to the edge of the seat. David steeled himself for the effort and scooped Dan into his outstretched arms, carrying him like a baby stretched out for a nap. David hadn’t lifted his son in more than 10 years, and he was surprised how easily it came back to him, despite the fact Dan weighed more than David himself. A father’s love is strong, Dan thought, and laughed a little at his own corniness.
By the time David made it to the back door with Dan in his arms, Clara had heard the truck doors and stepped out on the stoop to greet her men.
“What’s going on?!” she exclaimed, worry on her face.
David tried to remain calm and comfort his wife. “It’s OK, Clara,” he said. “I think he’s just been doing too much lately, and this has been a really big day.”
Clara clutched at her husband’s arm and stroked Dan’s forehead.
David motioned toward the interior of the house with his head. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get him in bed, and then I’ll tell you all about it.”
Clara nodded nervously but stepped aside to let David in.
—
Thirty minutes later, David and Clara sat at the kitchen table, holding hands around cups of hot coffee. David had filled her in on the morning workout where Dan met Harry Foster and the invitation to Cincinnati. He also told her about the trip to Addison and how Dan had maybe saved the game with his coaching advice.
She had nodded throughout his narrative, but she still looked worried.
“But what happened, David?” she asked. “Why did he pass out?”
“Oh, come on, Clara,” David said. “He didn’t pass out. He just fell asleep.”
His tone said, “Don’t be ridiculous,” but David was gripped by uncertainty and anxiety, too, and his denial was more an attempt to convince himself than his wife that everything was OK with Dan.
“If he just fell asleep, he would have woken up when you carried him inside,” Clara protested. “Something is really wrong with him, isn’t it?”
David’s stomach clinched, and his pulse thudded in his ears.
“Now, Clara, I’m sure he’ll feel much better after a good night of sleep,” he said.
She pursed her lips and looked at him with wide-open eyes, appearing almost angry.
“And then,” David continued, “we’ll get him to the doctor first thing in the morning. Deal?”
Clara hesitated. “I guess so,” she said, giving her husband a sheepish look. “Dave?”
She only called him “Dave” during very personal or trying moments, and he felt protective of her as her eyes pleaded with him.
“What, honey?”
“Would it be weird if I slept in the chair next to his bed tonight?” she asked. “You know, just in case he wakes up in the night and needs me for something?”
David squeezed her hand and stood, stepping to her side.
“Nope, not weird at all,” he told her. “In fact, I think it’s a wonderful idea.”
—
After a few bouts of fitful sleep, David woke up on the floor of Dan’s bedroom, early rays of sunlight winking through the venetian blinds and splashing across his eyelids. He rubbed his eyes and rolled onto his side to look toward the rocking chair next Dan’s bed. Clara waved to him and whispered, “Good morning.”
Even in the low light, David could see his wife was brooding. He looked at the motionless lump on Dan’s bed and stood with a start, rising to his feet in one motion.
“What’s wrong?” David whispered hoarsely. “Is Dan OK?”
Clara stretched her arm across gloom, reaching for her husband.
“He hasn’t moved since we put him down last night,” she said, looking to Dan. “But he’s breathing regularly.”
David rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?” he asked.
“It’s 6:30,” Clara told him. “He’s been out for almost 11 hours now, David.”
David leaned forward and put his palm on Dan’s forehead, then he caressed the young man’s cheek and squeezed his shoulder. Dan did not flinch.
“Well, he feels cool enough, but you’re right: he’s not moving at all,” David told her. “I think we need to get him to the doctor.”
Clara shook her head. “We don’t need to go anywhere yet, Dave,” she said. “I called Dr. Parks during the night, and he said he would come over as soon as he could. Should be sometime this morning.”
David hesitated, staring intently at his son. After several seconds, he said, “Well, he does seem to be breathing fine, so there is probably no real harm in waiting a bit longer. You want to have breakfast with me at Chez Hodges?”
Clara gave him a quizzical look, missing the reference. “We can’t go anywhere now, David!” she scolded.
“Not even to Chez Hodges?” he repeated, before adding, “Otherwise known as ‘Our Kitchen’? I’m cooking.”
She managed a mild smile and nodded. “Alright, then, as long as you’re cooking, I guess I can’t refuse. Can you make the coffee first?”
David nodded.
“And make it strong, OK?”
“You bet. Just as soon as I call in to work to let them know I won’t be in for a while.”
—
David and Clara had just finished off their first pot of coffee and a light breakfast of toast, eggs sunny-side-up, and juice when there was a knock at the door. David dropped the last scoop of grounds into the coffee maker and fired it up again, then walked to the front door. Dr. Parks was standing on the stoop, and he waved at David through a side panel.
David swung open the door and greeted Parks with,“He’s in the bedroom, doctor. He hasn’t moved since we brought him home last night.”
“OK,” Parks said, not acknowledging the lack of social niceties. As he passed the kitchen, Clara joined him, and the three walked down the hall to Dan’s room.
Parks knelt by Dan’s bed, using his stethoscope to listen to the young man’s chest, neck, arms, and legs. Next, he clasped Dan’s wrist in his hand and took his pulse. Finally, he pulled out a penlight and used it to examine Dan’s face, pausing on his eyes. After his examination, Parks stood and motioned the Hodges into the hallway.
“How is he, Doctor?” David asked.
“First off,” Parks began. “I want you to understand that Dan does not appear to be in any kind of distress. I don’t think he will die, in other words.”
Clara gasped, and David cringed at the callous words. “You don’t think he will die?!” David exclaimed
.
Parks held up his hands in a “stop” motion, and said, “I’m sorry … I’m sorry. That must have sounded crass. I just wanted to emphasize that Dan’s condition does not appear to be life-threatening.”
He looked from David to Clara, then continued once he was satisfied they were a bit calmer.
“However,” he went on, “all of his external symptoms seem to indicate he is heading back toward a state of hibernation.”
“What do you mean?” Clara asked, “What symptoms?”
“Well, he’s obviously sleeping soundly,” Parks said, “and his pulse is very slow.”
“How slow?” David wanted to know.
“At the moment, his heart is beating only about 25 times per minute,” Parks said, a grave look on his face. “That alone would make it nearly impossible for him to maintain consciousness, but I suspect his hormone levels are spiraling again, as well.”
David pulled Clara close to him and kissed the top of her head.
“But,” Parks went on, his voice lightening.
“What is it, Doctor?” David asked.
“I don’t want you to get your hopes up too high, and it’s no guarantee … of anything … but his eyes did react to the light when I shined it on them.”
“Is that good?” Clara asked, pulling her face out of David’s chest.
“Yes, yes,” Parks said. “It means he is not yet completely, um, comatose.” He hesitated to use that word, but it was the one that fit. “What’s more, once I perturbed him, Dan went into REM sleep.”
David and Clara looked at each other. “What’s REM sleep?” Clara asked.
“REM stands for ‘rapid eye movement’,” Parks explained, “and it’s the stage of sleep where we dream the most. It usually happens shortly after we fall asleep, and then periodically throughout the night. When Dan was hibernating last winter, he exhibited no REM at all.”
“So does that mean Dan is waking up?” Clara wanted to know.
“It appears that he at least might be capable of waking up,” Parks said. “It does seem to be, at least to some extent, a reaction to my flashlight, but the presence of REM sleep means Dan’s unconsciousness is not quite as deep as it might appear. I believe Dan will wake up at least one more time … but the overall trend in his condition over the last few weeks point to a pending hibernation.”
“You’re telling us we’re going to lose our son again, aren’t you, Doctor?” David asked, defeat in his voice.
Parks’ shoulders slumped. “I’m afraid that appears to be the case, David. We will need to take some blood to be sure, and I would like to transfer him to the hospital.”
“Can we wait until he wakes up, at least?” Clara asked.
“I think that would be OK,” Parks said. “Besides, it will be easier to move him when he’s awake. I would like to go ahead and take the blood sample now, OK? That way, I can get the tests going yet this morning and we can build a treatment plan.”
Clara nodded and squeezed close to her husband again.
Parks stepped back into the bedroom and emerged again two minutes later, fastening his medical case.
“I’ll get these to the lab, stat, and you let me know the moment he wakes up, OK?” he said to the Hodges, who nodded. “I’ll be in my office the remainder of the day if you need me.”
“Thank you, Dr. Parks,” David said and walked their visitor to the door.