Last Sunrise | The Empty World Sequence

The Hospice

"I got a shock," Daniel said, withdrawing his hand as quickly as Steven.

"Maybe it was the carpet," Steven said, looking down at the tile.

"Like he said. I'm Daniel." Steven looked up again and saw Daniel was smiling at him. He looked cool, with choppy, pale hair; a little gel and gloss and he could be the new member of Duran Duran.

"Steven. Steven Jewel. My Mother, Amanda, is across the hall. She and Joey have been in the same support group since they came here." Steven turned his head to Joey. He seemed to have been watching their exchange intently. "Last two left from that time?"

Joey nodded.

"How can you sound like that? So accepting? Just normal?"

Steven was only aware of the acceptance Daniel questioned because others had brought attention to it before. Steven never saw his own feelings or behavior as unusual, but he knew that he frequently received invitations to speak at various charitable or activist events. He was neither an emotional basket case nor an extreme militant and people seemed to think this meant he could persuade others to help their cause.

Steven took a deep breath and tried to smile as he answered Daniel, "By the time you are arranging for hospice care, you pretty much know there won't be a cure, not for them. I certainly went through expressing denial and anger, but it did not help my mother, or anyone. The best I can do for her is arranging treatment and making her last days comfortable. Otherwise, I can do what I can to keep others from suffering the same." Steven glanced to Joey, "I'll probably still cry like a baby, when it happens."

Joey laughed, though it really did not sound healthy; Steven could hear the fluid in his chest. "Man, this sucks," he wheezed.

"You still say it is cruel?" Daniel asked, leaning across the roll-away. It seemed to Steven this must be continuation of their conversation before he arrived. "To ease my pain? To offer me comfort by telling me things will get better? That we can find a new medicine, do research, or something?"

Steven saw Joey glare at Daniel again: eyes green and harsh. He was angry. "The difference–!" Joey broke off, gasping for breath and reached quickly for the mask hanging on the bed-rail. Steven went quickly to the far side of the bed and checked the line and oxygen supply.

Daniel reached out to help Joey fit the mask, but Joey pushed Daniel's hands from his face with his left hand, as he fit the mask himself with the right. The oxygen was flowing to the mask and Steven listened to Joey struggle to breathe. Joey extended the fingers of his left hand toward Daniel. Steven watched as Daniel's brow furrowed, then, after several seconds, Daniel grasped Joey's hand and held it.

Steven stooped just slightly and looked Joey in the eyes. "Can you signal me what level pain you feel and if you want the nurse?"

Joey held up his right hand. Five. Plus two. So, seven. They used a scale from zero to ten here.

"Nurse?"

Joey shook his head a bit. He closed his eyes. Steven could still hear his rasping breaths.

"There is someone who tells you everything will be OK? That Joey can get better? That we'll find a cure?"

Daniel did not answer immediately. Steven noticed, as Daniel leaned over the roll-away, that the name-patch on his Army shirt read Ripley; it must have been Joey's shirt, originally. "I don't want him to go," Daniel whispered.

"Joey's dying," Steven said softly. "I'm sure he can hear us and will make some signal to correct me, if I am wrong." Steven touched Joey's brow. He felt hot and there was only a short fuzz of hair on his head. Steven had seen old photos; Joey's hair had been quite long before the illness and treatments. He'd probably been sick of hearing people call him Hippie. "I think he wants you to know that the difference between the comforting words provided in a hospice and the comforting words someone has been telling you is that anyone telling you that Joey is going to get better is lying to at least one person."

"It's cruel!"

"I think, and maybe Joey thinks the same, that it is even crueler to give you false hope. Daniel, he is dying. Joey wants us – everyone – to keep searching for a cure, but he knows it will all be too late for him. It is too late. Joey is at peace with death, but it does not seem he is at peace with you living on misled and full of false hope."

"He says it's cruel to give me this false comfort, but this hurts more."

"But later, the other way would hurt at least as much, probably more."

"I don't want him to go," Daniel said again, weeping as he held Joey's hand. "It's not fair!"

"But, that is the way it is, and nothing short of miracle can help them now."

"I'll pray!" Daniel insisted. "Then I'll pray!"

Steven folded his arms against his chest and looked away, toward the door. Praying was the one thing he had not been able to do, when his mother had need. Oh, he had tried; said the words aloud. Steven could just not bring himself to feel any actual faith that there was a power there to hear, or that any such power would help his mother because he called upon it. He had wanted to be able to do it, for her, but his parents had not instilled much religious faith in him. Now, he felt, in this respect, it was too late for him.

Steven wasn't even sure there was a Devil, and many people who didn't have much fear of God did seem to believe in a Devil.

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Edit 3/19/2016 I split some scenes into separate chapters and added additional media for the soundtrack. I plan on adding some more scenes when I write them.