The Charlotte Chronicles

Part 1

Charlotte

Today is a no good, very bad, wholly rotten day. In the annals (had to look that up) of bad days, this has to be on the top. Nick’s sitting by the window and won’t look at me. Nathan’s in the corner, glowering as if somehow this is all my fault. Mom is trying not to cry and Dad is pacing like a lunatic.

And my head hurts so bad. The doctor says that tonight’s surgery will help alleviate the pressure from the tumor that’s taken up residence in the back of my skull. No one knows what will happen next. Although my mom has said that I probably won’t be able to do gymnastics anymore but that maybe I could join the dance team. FML. Like I would ever.

Later, after everyone is gone but Nick we’ll look up medulloblastoma and find out what the real details are. None of the adults are going to give it to me straight. Even the doctors talk in quiet tones to my parents in the corner. I’m the patient, I wanted to yell at them, but I can’t yell because even speaking is too painful right now. But I’m glaring. My eyes are shouting at them. Unfortunately no one but Nathan is even looking at me right now.

Nathan who thinks I must’ve done something to create this tumor in my head and ruin his day because he can’t stop glowering at me. His face looks thunderous like he’d like to squeeze my head until the tumor pops out like a zit. I’d like that too. But at least he’s looking at me unlike everyone else.

Nathan.

Worst. Day. Ever.

****

Nathan

The metal of Charlotte’s bed rattles as she is wheeled out of her room toward the operating theater. Her blue eyes look afraid, like the time she was eight and Nick and I were trying to get her to jump off the diving board into the pool. I finally walked out onto the board with her, held her hand and we jumped off the side together. No amount of hand holding is going to take that fear from her or from any of us.

For a moment after Charlotte is taken away, the room is silent. No soft words exchanged between mom and Aunt AM. No gruff low tones from Uncle Bo or dad.  No sounds from Nick’s Gameboy. It is eerie. Then Aunt AM begins sobbing and her cries are so awful that I have to leave the room. Then I have to leave the hallway but I can’t escape the sounds. They are embedded in my brain.  I sink down into a chair in the waiting room on the trauma floor and clutch my head in my hands. If I could rewind time, I think I’d never get up this morning.

I hear my Dad and then Bo enter the waiting room.

“The surgery may take a couple of hours, it may take longer. Why don’t you take Grace and the boys home and get some rest. We’ll call you as soon as she’s out.” Uncle Bo says.

Dad looks at Uncle Bo and then grabs him. The two stand there clutching each other and that’s all it takes for Nick to break.  Dad reaches out and the three of them huddle together. The only one I hear is Nick but Uncle Bo’s shoulders are heaving.

I walk in the opposite direction toward the windows. The air conditioning is leaving condensation on the window and the glass feels both cold and wet against my forehead. Outside the city is running like nothing out of the ordinary was happening, like two families aren’t breaking down inside this hospital. Like our whole future isn’t dependent on Charlotte making it out of surgery.

I’m not sure how long I stand there but I feel dazed when Dad places his hand on my shoulder.

“We’re going to go home for a bit.” Dad says, drawing me away from the window.

“Don’t want to,” I reply. I want to be here when Charlotte wakes up. She might need me.

“We need to take care of your mom.” Dad squeezes my shoulder.  I nodded because Dad isn’t asking. His tone is mild but when it came to taking care of mom, he wasn’t ever moved.