Freedive

Chapter 2

Belly

I couldn't get the image of Conrad crying in pain as he tried to breathe out of my head. Steven was working late, so my mom, Jere, and me sat in the living room pretending to watch a movie while we waited for Susannah to text or call with updates. The ambulance had arrived sometime after noon, just after Conrad lost consciousness. Despite his summer tan, his face was pale, lips an unfamiliar shade of gray. My mom had pulled Jere and me away as the paramedics swarmed his lifeless body on the kitchen tile, and I swear my heart was pounding for hours after they left until Susannah called to let us know that Conrad was stable and awake around six thirty. They were keeping him overnight for observation, and my mom promised to pick them up from the hospital upon discharge.

When my mom left to grab McDonalds, Jere broke the silence between us with a sudden sob, and without a word, I threw my arms around him and found myself sobbing, too.

It was like it had taken hours for reality to set in, and the second we had reassurance that Conrad was breathing, that he was awake, we couldn't hold it together anymore.

"I was so scared, Bells," he wailed, clinging to me, and I clung back, my nails digging into his t-shirt.

"I know, I was too," I replied, sniffling.

"I've never heard him wheeze like that. It's usually me. It...it should've been me."

"Jere, no," I assured him, rubbing his back. "Don't say that."

My infamous summer strep throat stint when I was eight had gotten Steven and Jere sick, but Conrad had escaped unscathed like he always did. While the rest of us were stuck in bed with popsicles to soothe our raw throats and Children's Tylenol to control our fevers every few hours, Conrad was enjoying the pool and throwing baskets out in the driveway. I remembered how Jere would need breathing treatments when he got sick because somehow, being sick always made him wheeze. He'd be completely fine when he was well, but the second his nose started to run or his throat started to hurt, the wheezing would pick up and Susannah would pull out the nebulizer, forcing him to sit still for the twenty minutes it took to deliver the medication through a mask. Conrad would start Uno or Dutch Blitz to include Jere, and we'd play for hours after until one of us yawned and the moms would call it, herding us upstairs for bedtime.

"W-what if something's really wrong?" he asked, pulling away, his glassy eyes meeting mine. I knew where he was going with this, and my heart broke. Susannah had battled cancer on and off for the last few years, and although he didn't really talk about it, it was an unspoken truth that it had taken a toll on him. "It just came out of nowhere. It doesn't...it doesn't make sense, Belly! He was fine at breakfast!"

"We can't think like that, Jere. And your mom would've said something on the phone. Don't they do like, rapid blood work in the ER? They'd know pretty quickly if it was serious." I was trying to calm him down, but I felt like I was making things worse.

"And my dad," he continued, ignoring everything I'd just said, which confirmed that if I wasn't make it worse, I also wasn't making things much better. "He's going to start an argument with my mom about this, because you know how my dad is. I bet he's already called Mom and blamed her for this even though we don't even know what this is!"

He leaned against the back of the couch and covered his face with his hands, sniffling as he worked to calm himself down.

"I'm afraid to fall asleep," he whispered, and even though it was only about seven and still early, I knew exactly what he meant.

The last few hours had been exhausting, but I, too, was afraid to fall asleep. Because what if Conrad wasn't stable anymore? What if it happened again and I wasn't awake when Susannah called?

"You can sleep on my trundle," I offered, taking one of his hands into mine. He nodded, squeezing my hand. "Like old times."

When we were kids, I'd sometimes wake up to Jere on my floor, curled up with the blanket from the end of my bed. Susannah caught on and added a trundle to my bed, arguing that it was so Taylor could come visit. But we all knew it was because of Jere, that he sometimes had nightmares and didn't like to be alone.

Jere never liked to be alone, and for the time being, I didn't want to be, either.

I couldn't bring myself to eat the cheeseburger and fries my mom had set out on the kitchen table, my eyes too busy wandering over the floor and island where Conrad sat hours ago. Susannah hadn't called or texted in a while, and I was starting to grow anxious.

No news, I knew, wasn't always good news. The moms sometimes kept things from us kids in the hope that it would spare us from the bad, which is what they'd done with Susannah's cancer. I knew it was why Jere was so on edge despite the reassurance from Susannah that Conrad was "resting comfortably."

At some point, with Jere on the trundle and me in my bed, our whispered conversation petered out and we fell asleep. Voices floated up from downstairs, waking me. It was light out, and for a second, I panicked at the realization I had fallen asleep.

"Mom," I heard Conrad whine, the cadence of his footsteps echoing from the stairwell. "I'm fine, I promise."

"I know, Connie. I'm just tired and worried about you is all. I'll be out of your hair once we get you to bed."

Their voices sounded closer, like they'd reached the landing at the top of the stairs just outside Conrad's room.

"But I promised Cleveland I'd teach him how to unfurl his sails today. I need to shower and get over to the marina."

"Conrad," Susannah warned.

"I'll text Cleveland and let him know you're under the weather," my mom added. I realized she must have gone to pick them up at the hospital this morning. She'd probably been up for a while. I looked over at my phone on my nightstand. 7:28. Early, but not terribly early.

"Can I at least brush my teeth without you hovering?" Conrad argued, which wasn't like him. Rarely had I ever heard him talk to Susannah like that before.

The bathroom door slammed, waking Jere. I assumed it had probably woken up Steven, who had gotten in late, too.

My door was open, and I watched as my mom enveloped Susannah in a tight hug. "Why don't you get some sleep while I pick up his meds from the pharmacy?"

"Mom?" Jere asked groggily as he sat up on the trundle bed. He was up in an instant, and when he reached the hallway, Susannah pulled him close to kiss his forehead. "How's Con?"

"Better but moody. They gave him a lot of meds at the hospital to open his airways and I think we need to give him some space today. Think you can do that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he answered with enthusiasm, nodding his head.

"In the meantime, do you think you could whip up some of your pancakes before you and Steven leave for work? I'd do it, but I didn't get any sleep and I'm practically running on empty."

"I got you," Jere promised, smiling.

"That's my boy," Susannah cooed, she and my mom following Jere as he headed downstairs to make breakfast.

As much as I wanted to see for myself that Conrad was indeed okay, his interaction with his mom and the door slamming told me that maybe it was best to go downstairs and grab a cup of coffee, but just before I reached the stairs, the bathroom door opened and Conrad stepped out.

I froze and held my breath, afraid he might yell at me too.

"Hey Belly," he whispered softly as he brushed his hair out of his face. I could see the exhaustion in his face, the way his eyes were half-lidded, like he was ready to take a nap right then and there on the floor. I was relived, though, not only because he hadn't given me an attitude, but also because his cheeks and lips were back to their usual pink, and I prayed that I'd never have to see that color gray on Conrad's face ever again.