The Mercy of Birds

CHAPTER 8: BROTHER, DON'T YOU RUN AWAY

CHAPTER 8
BROTHER, DON'T YOU RUN AWAY

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"She wanted to meet me?" Cameron asked in disbelief. He had a previous inkling that it was going to take some more coaxing and exertion on his part-hell, he was probably going to be so deprived of patience and become extremely hopeless of the situation by the time he could get to that point, but then, out of the blue, Dr. Singh called him as he was preparing himself for Victor's party, bearing the news that Clementine had come to her asking if she could see him, and he couldn't be more ecstatic and confused at the same time.

Was the letter really that effective?

"Yes, she was very eager, in fact, like it's imperative that you guys should meet as soon as possible," the doctor informed him and he halted in his tracks as he tried to process everything that had been conveyed to him.

He resumed his pacing as he picked up the white towel that he had discarded on the unslept bed of the hotel where he was staying for the night, rubbing the soft fabric to his bare torso. "Yes, yes, I can do that, but I'm in Nevada right now. I'll take the flight back first thing tomorrow morning."

"Of course, sorry for calling you outside office hours, by the way. I figured you would like to know as soon as possible."

"No, no, it's okay. I'm actually glad that you did. I don't care if it's three in the morning, just let me know if something happens to her," Cameron dismissed her apology as he attempted to reach the dampened skin on his tattooed back. Crystalline beads of water from his shower still lingered there because he jumped out of the bathroom with only a towel on at the first sound of a distinct ringtone that he had set specifically for the hospital.

"Alright. I will call you again if there's been an update. See you tomorrow, Mr. Crane," she bid him adieu, but he interrupted her as an epiphany suddenly emerged in his mind.

"Wait, Doctor, I just wanted to know." He dropped his hand as he inhaled a deep breath. The realization washed over him like tidal waves and it became crystal clear when he uttered it out loud, "This is it, right? This is where I ask her if she would like to come home with me."

"It certainly is, Mr. Crane. So it's in your best interest to make her convinced."

He ran his fingers through his dewy hair as he plopped himself down on the mattress. "What if I... what if I fu—mess it up?"

The psychiatrist fell silent for a second. He knew she was trying to unravel his anxiety in her mind, understanding it in a way that would define his state right now. "If you fuck it up now, we can try again later. This is not going to be the last and only chance you will have."

Cameron almost snorted after hearing her cuss. "But the judge—"

"The judge isn't going anywhere, so is the court petition, unless you make horrible moral and legal wrongdoings or something. You're not gonna run out of time," she assured him, a voice of reason that spoke with professional forbearance and equanimity.

He sighed and propped his elbows above his thighs, slumping forward. "But still I would like to make this one shot."

He gazed out the ajar glass door of the balcony with contemplation. His hotel room on the twenty-fifth floor overlooked the glitz of flashing lights that illuminated the city of Las Vegas in the evening. The temperature wasn't as cold as how it was back home; a tender breeze that carried out a chilly whisper of arid wind floated the translucent curtain as though it was being manipulated by invisible hands.

"Doctor, is there any way you can coach me first before I meet her? I just need to know what I have to expect from our encounter," he asked with hopefulness, but his bearing was desperate. "I-I can pay you for a session-"