Friends

PART THIRTY-NINE: MISSED

January 2, 2008, Wednesday

The atmosphere was loud right now. I overhear them in my room but never meant to eavesdrop on them. I endured the loud arguments until Jade noticed me. Her arms crossed, tied-bun hair was walking towards me.

Everyone followed as she touched my forehead, "Charlie, you have a cold."

"Do I need to be confined? Don't take me, you know how I feel about hospitals," I said with a parched voice and a frightened look. "It's best for—" Fiona passed me the glass of water as she cut me off. "Thank you. What was I saying? I should stay here, not out in the cold."

What terrified me the most was how hospitals work. The smell once I slip through the entrance is not welcoming. I picture lots of blood passing around me. I must leave but Julie insisted that I stay. A not-a-dull but sharp needle to be injected through my veins would help me overcome the mess I am experiencing. Her beliefs were to transfer me to the infirmary whenever I redeem sickness. I always look at her and feel regretful for her leaving nowadays.

Fiona gave me another medicine, "Charlie, this may be hard to handle right now."

"What? Did something happen?'

Wayne said, "No. Not something bad."

Fiona added, "The point is, we may have to leave for a while. As our jobs have to embark on another journey," I looked down. "I promise you, this won't be the last time you'll see us."

My mouth started to fade all of its words like a mime struggling to escape its box. I can't spill the words out of my tongue, "But I am going to be alone when you leave me. Don't leave me to die in the dark." I chose to stay in peace rather than see them in an argument.

Harry had a conversation with the others as I took all of my thoughts, "Poor Charlie, who is going to check up on him while we're away? It's a long ride. Won't the business be for long?"

"Charlie, this situation may be hard for you but I've got to call your mother. I think you'll be delighted to be with her," Wayne said, bending his knees to reach my eyes.

I could hear their conversation perfectly but couldn't strike them with the word, "No." I felt weak up to my bones and it's demolishing every brick that we built in this mansion. I still can't wake my senses up.

"Hello, Mrs. Rode. This is Fiona, one of Charlie's friends, you might've remembered me during Christmas," she hesitated for a while. "Our dear Charlie has come down with a fever and all of us, unfortunately, have work. Will it be possible for you to check on him?"

After a while, Fiona eagerly said, "Good news, she is willing to take care of you. She's on her way now but we're not leaving you yet."

The doorbell is a loud, frequency sound that reaches its level up to the staircase. There was a long, beaming sound going down and I said my goodbyes to them as my mother reached my room. She prepared the same things—every time I had a fever. Hot towel, thermometer, medicine, a can of soup, and a cup of coffee for her.

She placed the hot towel onto my forehead, "There. I haven't seen you sick ever since you were young. God, how long must that be?"

"How long was what? You're not the one keeping me awake those times."

She pouts her lips closer together, "He kept you healthy and striving for your dreams."

I interrupted, "Mom, what are you doing?"

"Being the mom I could have been to you but could not because of your father. I watched you grow, and I held that title to myself; stubborn as it seems," she placed a thermometer on my shoulder as the heat continued rising from the room.

"You could have been a mom to Julie. I thought you knew better, but you couldn't accompany her to stay," I said while tears shed. "You stayed quiet for every measure yet you have known every oppressive action that she must've felt for staying in that house. Was it to get another wealth from his name and authority?"

"Don't speak highly of that. You know I could have been another mom to her, and to you but no one ever knows how much a mother could bear. You don't know what it's like being a mother to everyone," she said, standing up in her seat and finding ways to finish her coffee.

"Julie could have left me a note. It's not her fault for having a boy in her bed. She was driven by force not by mankind."

"But you were too young, back then. You don't know what it's like," her face starts to get madder than I ever will be. She opened her bag, " Your sister left this for you. I couldn't bring myself to give you this because I know you will roam around for her." Her tears glistened from the side, "I'll heat the soup for you."

She handed me the letter and left the room with a hot towel on my head. I brought myself to tears and my mother went inside with soup. And feed me as I wept more.