at work. Oh well, they can leave a voicemail. I need to hurry upstairs so
Victoria won’t be alone working the floor.
Heading upstairs to my department, I see Victoria and wave. I am trying to think about today’s task but that anomalous number is pestering my brain.
"Hey Aubry, you look so pretty today! Bouncy honey curls I see!"
"Awww thanks Victoria."
"Are you ok babe? Is there something bothering you?"
"Yeah, remember I was telling you about this guy named Charles?”
“Yeah, the cute guy that came up here a few weeks, right?”
“Girl, yes, he is weird. He just stopped talking to me.”
“What? Why? I thought you two were becoming good friends?” Victoria says, shaking her head in disbelief.
“I have no idea, but I haven‘t heard from him for a week. And he threw up on the phone with me a few days before he stopped calling me.”
“Yuck, are you serious?”
“Yeah, nastiness. And then today, this weird number just called my phone. And I have weird feeling that it has something to deal with Charles."
But I don’t care. I don’t want to care. I am making a promise to myself. I am going to focus on me and my relationship with God. Brian and I are completely over and Charles just stopped calling me. I thought we were friends. That was weird. He was weird. Whatever, I am already over him.
"Everything will be alright sweetheart. I promise. But did you answer the call?"
"No, I didn't. Had to hurry up and get upstairs before the managers get me. I’ll check my voicemail in a few hours. Can't be anything serious."
Charles
Vomiting.
Loss of appetite.
Godawful headaches.
Memory loss.
No desire to live.
What is wrong with me?
I don't feel right.
The doctors here at the hospital are trying to figure out what is wrong with me. They keep walking in and out of the room. They can't seem to pinpoint why I am so nauseated nor can they break down why I am having these terrible headaches regularly. They keep looking at me, nodding their heads. Holding closely to plastic folders, they are constantly whispering to each other then looking at me. What are they talking about? Man, I’m nervous. But I don't want to be. I just can't be. I came in for them to check out my heart. But I’m sure my heart is fine. I just have the Flu.
Watch.
"Mr. Jackson."
"Yes?"
"You and your mother should have a seat. We ran some tests and the results are in."
"Uh, alright."
Mama and I look at each other as we slowly sit down in front of the doctors.
"Your blood tests came back negative. But we found the problem."
"Oh ok, good."
I look at my mother and she is biting her top lip, staring at the doctor's mouth. Maybe she is praying that he says I have the Flu too.
"Charles, we found a tumor."
"A tumor, huh? Are you sure?"
"Yes, a tumor is growing in the left side of your brain."
"Uhhhh.... that is very weird. How did I get a tumor?"
"We are not sure. But, the tumor links with the bad headaches, vomiting and caused memory loss. The pain comes from the pressure. And it's constantly pressing against your brain tissue."
"Ok, well, ok, what medicine do I need to take?"
"Charles, medicine will not suffice. Medicine will not kill this tumor. Surgery is needed. We have to take it out. As soon as possible. Because of its size and location in the brain tissue, surgery is critical. If you came in three days later, you would have probably slipped into a coma."
"A coma?”
"The tumor is the size of a balled up fist. We will try to get in a surgery as soon as possible. We are actually trying for tomorrow afternoon."
Walking away from the doctor, chunks of vomit slither up my throat. The room is spinning and my blood turns cold. Am I going to die? My life is over. Why me? What about my son? Cayden is being ripped from me. I have no choice, but to go through the surgery.
"Uh, do I really have a choice? Let's get it done."
I can't believe what the doctor is saying. A brain tumor? I don't smoke. I eat pretty healthy. I exercise. I don't do drugs. I hardly drink. I sleep pretty well.
"Where did this tumor come from, doctor? I don't smoke. I mean, seriously. You telling me that I have a tumor sitting in my head?" I start laughing.
“Mr. Jackson, come take a look.”
Clearly, they found the problem.
Aubry
I really wonder who that was who called me. I need to find out who that was. Picking up my Blackberry, I scroll through a few texts from a Terry and Jena. And it looks like I have a voicemail message too. Ugh.
"Hello, my name is Brandon. This is Charles' brother. I am calling for an Aubry. If this is you, could you please return my call? Thank you."
Excuse me?
Charles' brother? Oh no, I am not calling him back. I refuse. Charles is probably missing and I don’t want to have anything to deal with that. I have enough troubles. And besides, Charles stopped talking to me. Such a weirdo. Vomit Boy and his family needs to leave me alone. Break is over. Back to work.
Charles
God. No. Not me. This is a mistake. I can’t believe what I am looking at. How in the world did I get a tumor? Or get this sick? This thing is growing inside of me and I had no idea.
What am I doing in this hospital bed? I don’t belong here. Looking around, I see my mother staring back at me. I know she is trying her hardest to not cry. But I can look past her tough shell. Inside, I can hear her screaming.
"Ma, you ok?"
"Oh, yeah, I am. Are you?"
She starts to rub my forehead. A mother's warm touch. What if I never feel her special touch when I wake up? What if I never wake up?
"I don't know ma. This is all happening too fast for me right now."
Aubry
Ugh.
What a long day!
Those customers are crazy! And they make me so mad! Rushing to return their stale Christmas presents with pounds of receipts stacked in their purses and wallets. What a waste of money and my time. I am so exhausted. So ready to crawl in my warm bed. It's freezing out here and I cannot wait to get inside that house and tear these stockings off. Winter is definitely here. And pulling up in the snowy driveway, I can see it’s clearly not leaving Detroit anytime soon. Huh? My Blackberry is vibrating again. Ugh. A text message from that anonymous number.
"Is this Aubry?"
I almost crashed into the house. Oh my goodness! Now Charlie's brother is stalking me? Great. This is all I need right now. Some guy hunting me down about his weirdo brother. Why is he doing this to me? Why does he want to talk to me so bad? I am so glad that I made it home now. Let me run in this house so I can curse him out. No. I’ll just text so I don't have to worry about calling him back. I don't want to talk. There is absolutely nothing to talk about. I don't know where Charlie is and I could care less. And to think I started thinking what a supportive friend he is. Instead, he disrespects me by pretending to be my friend, leading me on with hints of romance and bogus love notes. Just trash. Now Vomit Boy is hiding and ignoring me. Please. I am so done dealing with trifling guys. My heart is already crushed. I don't need any more pain. He is dismissed. I’ll just text back and get this over with. It's time for me to get in the bed and clear my mind anyway.
"Yes."
He immediately texts back.
"Ok, can you please call me when you get a chance?"
I guess that plan didn't work.
"Ok. Five minutes."
Seventeen minutes passes. Maybe I’ll call him now. Dialing Brandon's number, I walk into the kitchen with my heart hammering against my rib cage. I really don't want to talk to this man. I just want to go to sleep! I am so irritated right now! Just leave me alone! I want everyone to leave m
e alone! What does Charlie's brother want from me? I haven't heard from Charlie for over 2 weeks. I don't know anything. And I will make sure that this brother of his knows this.
An unsteady voice answers.
"Hello?"
"Um hello, this is Aubry. You called me earlier?"
"Ah yes, thank you so much for calling me back Aubry, this is Brandon."
"Mmmhmm... ok. What's going on? I just got home from work, sir." Attitude soils my voice.
"Uh, ok? Well, I wanted to call and tell you that CJ is in the hospital. He has been really sick these past few weeks and, uh, doctors found a, uh, tumor in his brain…”
"Huh?" I almost choked.
"...and, uh, he is going in for surgery in the morning. He keeps asking for an Aubry..."
"What?"
"...so I thought maybe I could get your number from his phone. It's been dead. Do you think you could, uh, possibly come down to the hospital tonight and, uh, see him? Like I said, his surgery is tomorrow."
"Wait, what?"
My chest rips open. With tears welling up in my eyes, I fall against the kitchen wall, gasping for
air. I feel so weak. And numb. And cold. Words cannot even slip out of my mouth. I'm so confused. I feel like death.
"Um... can...can I...um...call you back?"
Frozen.
"Of course.”
Leaning on the kitchen wall, numbness succumbs