Bloody Texas

Who Gave you the Virus?

Lance woke up in pain. His knees felt like balls of red-hot needles steadily climbing up to his hips through his veins. His voice caught in his throat and he struggled to breathe. He swung his sore legs over the side of his bed and pulled himself up. His muscles gave out from under him causing him to tumble to the floor. Intense pain pulsed through his skull. He tugged at his hair as he cried out with every hit. His fingernails clawed their way toward the door. Lance quickly realized that the right side of his body was going numb. Then, his arms lost their strength, unable to pull his body any further. His breathing increased as he panicked. Babbling and crying out for anyone to hear, he tried to keep his eyes from blurring. But he eventually went blind.

He heard his bedroom door burst open and his father call out to him, but his mind was too muddled and confused to make sense of it all. Hands gripped his arm and held his face. An ambulance was called and Lance waited in cloudy pain for it to arrive.

Keith violently shoved the hospital doors open and raced down the hallway. His eyes scanned every face he saw, searching for any indications of news.

"Keith!"

Keith stopped as he heard his name from a small waiting room. Lance's father stood and walked toward him. His mother sat in one of the chairs; James and Andy sat on either side with their heads on her shoulders. Keith gave Lance's father a desperate look, turning his body around to continue his search. "Where is he? Is he okay?!"

"Keith, look at me." He placed his hands on his shoulders to hold him down. "He's with the doctors right now. They pulled him into surgery."

Keith looked up at him, eyes stinging. "What happened?! Is he gonna be okay?!"

He wrapped a fatherly hand around his shoulder and led Keith to a chair away from his wife and sleeping children. They sat down and Keith held his breath as he waited for answers. Lance's dad took a deep breath and leaned onto the armrest. "He had a pain crisis during the night. It woke him, and he tried to get to me."

Keith furrowed his brows and gave him a nod, "Yeah..."

He swallowed hard and ran his tongue over his chapped lips. "It was bad. We were updated a little bit ago. He," there was a heavy pause as he locked eyes with Keith, "He had a stroke."

Keith's chest convulsed and his stomach flipped. He took a look around to keep tears from forming.

"It was expected with his conditions; this wasn't a surprise for the doctors." He dropped his somber gaze, "I can tell."

He leaned his elbows onto his knees and ran his fingers through his hair. Keith's voice was a raspy tremble, "But will he be okay?"

"We don't know. If he only had Sickle Cell, it wouldn't be as complicated as it is." He sat back in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes. "Keith..."

Keith turned his head to face him, keeping his hands on his sore head.

Lance's dad kept his gaze forward, "There is a great chance that he may not make it." Their eyes finally locked again. "I just want to be honest with you."

Keith bit down on his trembling lip and nodded. A hand patted his back, then stood to walk away. Keith stayed there with his head going a million miles an hour. To think that he may never see Lance alive again. That Lance's deep blue eyes wouldn't shoot through his heart anymore. That his sun-kissed skin would lose what's left of its color. It was heartbreaking. He breathed out a silent prayer to the God and Goddess for guidance and strength.

He reached out for Lance's father before he could leave. "Wait. Can I...ask you a few questions?"

He sat with Keith for a while to discuss Lance's condition. He was patient and understanding—the perfect father.

"So," Keith leaned onto his knees and spoke with his hands, "How exactly did he get this sick?"

A somber smile tugged at his face, "Lance was born with Sickle Cell, of course, and he struggled with it through his childhood. Kids were mean, like they always are. When he reached high school, we thought it would get better for him. But it only made him feel even more isolated. Then, he made two friends. They helped greatly.

"But," his face grew cold as he recoiled at the memories. "When Lance was about eighteen, he started getting sick. Little things: colds, coughs, and such. We didn't think anything of it until we realized just how much he was getting sick." He snuck a look at Andy and James, then continued.

"The doctors did so many tests on him. They weren't sure at first, but then your brother came along. He suggested STD tests." He used his fingers to sort his thoughts. "We—we never had any reason to believe it would be—!" He trailed off, but quickly brought himself back.

"To our surprise, one test came back positive. For HIV." He gave Keith a troubled look, "We were so angry at him. Even though he insisted that it couldn't be possible, we chastised him for having unsafe sex when he was already sick." He let out a frustrated breath and rubbed his face. After a moment, he lifted his head to face him, "Lance is a virgin. I should've listened to him sooner. It took a lot of investigating, but we eventually found the source. Somewhere, someone messed up and gave my boy an infected blood transfusion.

"It was too late for him. Nothing could reverse what had been done. The HIV progressed way too quickly, and we hadn't caught it in time."

Keith wiped his sore eyes, "So he never did anything wrong." They sat in silence for a moment as he processed the information. A tear fell from his cheek, "He didn't deserve any of this."

Two tennis shoes appeared in his sight. A small girl kneeled down to face him and hugged her knees. Her light hair was cut short while large, round glasses sat on her nose. Wide-eyed and frowning, she opened her mouth to speak. "Are you Keith?"