Good Things Fall Apart

Junction

"Victor, slow down."

Mia is two paces behind him, their footsteps muted in the crowded parking lot. Directly after the phone call, she'd rushed to Brasstown to collect Victor. He ushered Gabe away, unable and unwilling to explain why, and practically launched himself into the passenger seat of Mia's car as she pulled up.

"He's gonna be okay," she told him as she pulled away from the curb, headlights refracting in her teary eyes.

Hardly able to breath, Victor asked her, "What did he do?"

Gaze locked on the road and jaw clenched, Mia had simply shrugged. "His mom wouldn't tell me. Just that he was in the hospital."

This led to Mia explaining how she and Benji have been spending a lot of time together, against all odds. They'd bonded over their shared love of art, and Mia found herself at Benji's house once, then twice, then almost daily in Victor's absence. Filling the gasping vacuum he created.

Victor was in a daze for most of the drive, but from what he retained of Mia's exposition, he knows that Benji's parents are both out of town and won't be able to to be back in Atlanta until the morning, and that Mia and he are the only other people who know.

So now he's practically sprinting across the pavement, cursing every car that's filling a spot closer to the building. "No," he grunts back. He ignores Mia's watery sigh and the sound of her pace accelerating to match his, eyes locked on the golden glow pouring out of the double glass doors that serve as the hospital's entrance.

"Victor, please," Mia says and grabs his arm.

He whirls, a tear flung in a graceful arc through the warm, humid night. "What?"

Mia flinches back from him and releases her grip. "I just..."

"You just what?" he demands, patience balancing on the final thread of a frayed rope.

"Nothing," she says and shakes her head. "Let's go."

They glide through the doors, the air inside cool and sterile, and rush up to the front desk.

The nurse behind the computer is a slight, mousy man, hair the color of straw, eyes small and beady, too far apart. A corded phone is tucked between his shoulder and chin as he types something, looking unamused. He gives a fraction of a glance toward Victor and Mia, then raises a finger for patience.

Victor bounces up and down on his heels and turns his head left, right, left, scanning the waiting room but not processing any of the visual input. All he can picture is Benji, crumpled, bloody, and the fact that his condition has been left at "He's gonna be okay," has his nerves writhing and white-hot.

"Mm-hmm," the man says into the phone with a barely perceptible roll of his eyes. "Yes, ma'am, that's correct. No. No, we don't offer that as a service." He pauses. Victor looks at his name tag: Brian. Victor clears his throat and leans forward slightly, which earns him a reproachful look and another stern pointer finger. "What would I suggest? Are you familiar with gummy vitamins?" An angry voice chirps from the receiver, loud enough for Victor to hear the tone but not the words. Then it goes quiet.

Brian sets the phone in its cradle, sighs and turns to them, finally. "How can I help you kids?"

"We're here to see Benjamin Campbell," Mia says before Victor can. "His parents called ahead and gave us visitation permission."

The nurse raises an eyebrow and looks between them. "I'll check on that," he says. Victor is furious to hear doubt in his voice, condescension. Brian taps on his keyboard and hums to himself; he pauses, then exhales through his nose.