Missing Martha

45

"Eh, Martin, can we have a word?" Asked one of the neurosurgeons, walking into the waiting room where Martin was comforting everyone.
"Yep." He replied, standing up and taking a deep breath before following the surgeon into the room. The room was greyly lit, Ryan was awake, Martin immediately ran towards him.
"Hey, hey Ryan.." he began, somehow lost for words.
"How did he get the scars on his chest?" Asked someone.
Martin shook his head, "I don't know." He replied, looking into Ryan's eyes. "Miss Flynn has called your parents. They know what's going to happen, okay?" He looked into Ryan's wide eyes as he nodded.
"It's gonna be alright, mate." Whispered Martin, putting his hand on Ryan's shoulder before a tall male surgeon dressed in a white coat interrupted, "Ryan will remain awake during the surgery."
"W-what?" Asked Martin, shocked.
"Removing a tumour is a complex operation, he will be sedated during the extraction of the skull, then we will wake him when working on the brain to ensure none of the nerves are damaged. He will feel no pain, and he will be sedated again afterwards."
Martin's jaw shook, almost with anger as he stood up and faced the surgeon. "I lost both my parents to brain tumours, don't let me lose him." He whispered to him.
The surgeon nodded in response, "I will not let you down."
Martin nodded,
"And his friends- they should come in too." Said another surgeon.
"T-they shouldn't see him like that.."
"Sir?" Interjected Ryan, it was almost a gasp.
Martin turned around and sat beside Ryan's bed. He blinked heavily, looking into Ryan's eyes.
"Am- am I gonna die?" He whispered, tears subsiding through his crystal eyes.
Martin shook his head, "never."
Ryan bit his lip, "well I am someday."
A tear fell down Martin's cheek, everything about this just reminded him of Martha. He pictured her precious porcelain face on the covers of the bed.
"You know why you're my favourite teacher?" Said Ryan, seeing Martin deteriorate.
Martin shook his head, covering his bursting face with his left hand, his elbow against the armrests.
"Because you genuinely care about us." Said Ryan.
"You've lost so much and you keep coming back just to make sure we're okay. You've got every reason in the world to leave us but you're still right here." He took Martin's hand. "Martha'd be proud of her dad."
Martin wiped his face, shaking from crying, "excuse me." He muttered, standing up and leaving the room before walking towards the bathrooms. He opened the door and walked towards the sink, Glaring at himself in the mirror.
The room stank of bleach and cheap air fresheners. The water wasn't cold. He saw his red-hot eyes in his reflection as he splashed himself with water. He then rubbed his face and took a couple more anti-depressant drugs before walking back out into the operating room where Ryan remained.
He sat back down beside him.
"Did you go and have a little cry?" Chuckled Ryan, giving a sympathetic smile.
"You know I'm an emotional man." Replied Martin, taking Ryan's hand.
"Y'know it's my birthday next week." Said Ryan, trying to cheer up the mood.
"We're gonna get so drunk you won't even remember what age you are." Said Martin.
"Are teachers allowed to say that?" Asked Ryan, smiling.
"I'll admit it wasn't in the contract."
"Have you spoken to Mrs Watson?" Asked Ryan.
Martin shook his head, "not yet."
"You probably should or you'll get sacked." Advised Ryan.
"I'm quitting anyway." Said Martin.
"Really? Why? You're the best teacher in that school. What are you gonna do?" Asked Ryan.
"I dunno." Martin said, "I might travel or something."
Ryan caught Martin's eye. "Y'know I saw you taking those tablets." Martin looked down, "what were they?"
Martin sighed, "it's alright, Ryan."
"Are you depressed?" He asked, "I mean, not that I'm shocked it's just that I'm worried." Said Ryan.
Martin leaned back in the chair, "course I am, mate."
Ryan looked over at Martin, "you're not gonna... kill yourself?"
Martin sighed, "it's been on my mind."
Ryan looked down, "man.. you need help."
"I think you need it a little more." Said Martin, patting his shoulder. "How'd you get the scars, Ryan?"
Ryan went pale, "w-what scars?"
"You know what scars. They're all over you." Said Martin. "If I don't ask you some social service is gonna ask you instead."
"It was when I was still in Poland." Ryan began, his hands shivering.
"Go on." Martin encouraged.
Ryan took a deep breath, "no.. sir I really don't wanna speak about it.."
Martin nodded, "was it really that bad?"
Ryan nodded, "the ones on my back are from my dad." He began, Martin listened intently. "He- he owned a hotel with my mother and he was the one who taught me English.. if I got a word wrong or didn't understand a customer I was whipped."
Martin felt himself shiver.
"It got to a point where I couldn't walk.. so my mother drove me a hundred miles to the south and left me there."
"What did you do?" Asked Martin, his eyes wide.
Ryan shook his head, he felt sick just thinking about it.
"I stole from a shop." He said, knowing he was changing all of Martin's opinions about him. "I was nine.. I opened up the cash machine and took five-hundred zloty. But the man caught me.." Ryan covered his mouth, his eyes watering. "He kept me with him and used me.."
Martin felt sick, realising that this had happened to a nine year old.
"It took me a year to escape.. I- i- stole a thousand zloty, that's about two-hundred pound.. and I used most of it getting taxis to the airport.. ended up in Cardiff and collapsed at touch down... does that satisfy you?"
Martin looked at Ryan lying in the hospital bed. He covered his mouth. "Jesus Ryan.." he sighed. "You never should have gone through that.."
"Don't tell Lucy.. I don't want her to think of me any differently." Said Ryan.
"She won't." Said Martin.
"She will-"
"She loves you, she won't."
"Will she love me if she finds out I was raped by a middle aged man? Or that I'll never take my shirt off because I'm shredded in scars?"
Martin bit his lip, looking into Ryan's eyes, "Yeah I think she will."
A neurosurgeon interrupted, "are we ready to begin?" He asked.
"Yes." Said Ryan, his eyes deep and his expression shallow.
Martin looked down, nodding.