* * *
The school day went pretty normal. There wasn't much talk about the state championship since it was still two weeks away. I did get more homework than usual and an art project from the substitute in Mrs. Snyder's class, but the good news was that Mrs. Snyder would be back in class a few days a week starting next week.
I got to the locker room after school early. "Hey, Coach."
"Jason, how are you? Ready for some real practice?"
"Sure. I was wondering if I could keep something in your frig for a few days?"
"Medicine need refrigeration?"
"Medicine?"
"Your mom called, said she thought you were feeling a little under the weather, I figured—"
"Jeeze I wish she wouldn't do that."
"She's just lookin' after you son. Go ahead, the frig is yours. You let me know if you're not up to practice."
"I'm fine, Coach, nothing to worry about."
He looked surprised at the size of the bag I pulled out of my cooler, but tossed me a marker. "Why don't you put your name on it so none of the coaches mistake it for their lunch."
"Right." I scribbled my name on the bag and put it on the back, bottom shelf of the small refrigerator. "Thanks, Coach. See you out on the field."
Practice was alright, but I did notice I tired quickly. My legs even got a little rubbery when we did laps at the end. I don't think anyone else noticed though.
After dinner, I went straight upstairs and drew another pint of blood. Even with all the extra fluid I'd taken in it was much harder to find the vein—six or seven attempts and the blood drained much slower. I figured the blood would keep until Mom went to bed, so I put it on the roof just outside my window to keep it cool and worked on my homework.
"Jason?"
I looked up from my desk as Mom slowly pushed open my bedroom door.
"I knocked, but you didn't answer. Are you alright?"
I staggered to my feet. "Sorry, I must have fallen asleep. Practice was pretty tough today—just tired I guess. I need to finish up this homework."
"Alright. Goodnight." Mom stepped back into the hall and closed the door.
I couldn't find my vein in the morning so I switched arms. It was still difficult and using my left hand didn't make it any easier, but I finally got the needle in—it took forever to fill the bag and after I finished, I couldn't stand without the room spinning. Finally the inevitable happened, their was a light tap on my door.
"Jason, are you awake?"
I quickly shoved all the medical, paraphernalia under my bed. "Yeah, I'm awake."
The door slowly opened and Mom's head appeared cautiously in the opening. "Jason, you look terrible—you're so pale."
"Thanks." I tried to joke.
"I'm serious."
"I know, I think I ate something bad from the cafeteria, I feel like crap."
"I think I should take you to the doctor."
"No, Mom, I'm sure it's just something I ate, I'll be fine, but I don't think I can do school today. Will you call in for me and make sure they let Coach know."
"Sure. Do you need anything?"
"A pitcher of water would be nice. Maybe some ice cubes too if you don't mind?"
Mom left and I must have either fallen asleep or passed out because when I opened my eyes, there was a pitcher of water and a bowl of half melted ice cubes on my nightstand.
I sat up—still light headed—and drank two full glasses. I sat for a few minutes and forced myself to drink one more. It was then I remembered the bag of blood under my bed. "Mom, you home?"
Mom opened my door a few minutes later. "Are you feeling any better?"
"A little. I was wondering if I could have some more water or maybe orange juice and some more ice to chew on—you know you used to say that helped settle your stomach."
"If your stomach's not feeling so well I'm not sure the OJ is such a good idea. How about some apple juice instead?"
"Okay, sure, apple juice would be fine—or even better, maybe one of my energy drinks."
"An energy drink it is then." She quickly went downstairs, returning a short time later with the energy drink, water and ice.
Once she left, I used a plastic trash bag to make a makeshift cooler. I put the pint of blood in the trash bag, dumped in all the ice, tied the bag closed and then wrapped it with two sweatshirts for insulation. Hopefully that would do. I was exhausted after doing just that, so I lay back down and fell asleep.
When I woke up, it was dark. There were voices downstairs for a few minutes, and then the back door closed. A minute or so later a car started and then backed out of the driveway. I sat up and while I wouldn't say I felt good, I didn't feel—drained.
"Jason?"
"You can come in, Mom."
The door opened and Mom flicked on my light. "I brought you something to eat." She carried in a tray table with a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup, some crackers and an energy drink.
"Thanks, Mom, I really appreciate you looking after me like this."
"Don't be silly, it's what mothers do. How are you feeling?"
"Better. Did we have company? I thought I heard you talking to someone downstairs."
"Coach Singleton stopped by to check on you."
"What'd you tell him?"
"The truth, that you thought you'd eaten something bad at the cafeteria." The corners of her eyes tightened when she said 'truth', but I kind off knew she suspected I lied, and consciously made the choice to accept my explanation.
"Nothing like a little chicken noodle soup to get a guy back on his feet, right? Thanks, Mom."
She stayed with me while I ate. We made small talk about irrelevant things like church, Christmas break, even summer vacation. When I was finished, we went downstairs and watched a little television. After an hour, I started to feel drained again.
"I think I'm going to head up to bed, I want to give school a shot tomorrow." I said as I pressed myself up from the sofa.
"You still look a little wobbly."
"I gotta give it a shot, Mom." I walked slowly—too slowly—over to the stairs.
"Jason?"
I looked back at Mom, fighting to keep my balance in the spinning room, and focused on her.
"Okay," she said, "but you can't blame me for worrying."
"Blame you? You're not serious. I adore you, you're the best mom in the whole world. I know how hard this must be for you, yet you're here, just giving me your support—trusting me."
A tear trickled down her cheek. "I love you. Goodnight."
It was a real struggle to find a vein, I even tried the back of my left hand, but no go. From what I read on the Internet, I was dehydrated—which made total sense, but I still needed at least one more pint. I finally had to give up, it just wasn't going to happen tonight—maybe in the morning. I drank the rest of the pitcher of water and waited for Mom to go to bed.
Once I was sure she was asleep, I headed downstairs for another energy drink, my cooler and some more ice. I lined the cooler with a towel to keep the ice from making any noise when I poured it in. The energy drink helped, so I sat down at the table and started on another one. Sometime later, I was awaken by a slight tapping at the kitchen window.
"Tink?" I whispered. I tiptoed to the back door and let him in. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here for the blood—you don't look so good."
"Thanks. I'm sorry, but I couldn't get the last one tonight, I'm going to get it in the morning. I have two upstairs, but the other two are at school."
"At school?"
"Coach let me use his frig."
"He doesn't know?"
"No! No way."
"You want me to get it tonight?" Tink asked.
"No, no need for you all to put yourselves through that. I'll get it tomorrow after school and meet you at your place with all five pints."
Tink nodded.
"You finalize a plan of action yet?"
"Not yet." Tink picked up on my disappoint
ment. "Don't worry, we will come up with something."
"I know you will." I reached out to pat him on the shoulder for support—next thing I know, Tink is laying me down on my bed. "What happened?"
"You passed out."
"Sorry about that. I need to set the alarm—you wouldn't know how to—"
Tink glanced at the digital clock and shook his head.
"That's okay, I can manage." I rolled over and set my alarm for four-thirty in the morning just in case I needed extra time. I had to be able to draw the blood this time. "Tink, could you get the cooler from downstairs?"
By the time I drug out my makeshift cooler from under the bed, Tink was back with the cooler. I carefully unwrapped the sweatshirts and retrieved the bag of blood. Tink opened the cooler and I set the bag on the ice. Tink took my sweatshirts and the bag of water to the window. He tossed the water and wrung out the sweatshirts. The cold air shot through me like a knife. I shivered.
"You sure you're okay?" Tink said.
"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."
Tink nodded and stepped out onto the roof, pressed the window closed and then jumped.
I dropped my head back onto my pillow. I hate that I'd delayed Izzy's rescue, but we had to get this right, I doubted that there would be a second chance.