CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
His Own Terms
Gabbie and Troy left Dan’s hospital room around 8 pm, and Clara followed them shortly afterward. She had been in the room with him for more than 24 hours, and she needed a break whether she would admit it or not. David made it easier for his wife to step out for a while, promising to stay by Dan’s side during the night. Clara could come back in the morning, after which the three of them would make the trip to Indianapolis for the state title game. Gabbie and Troy would also make the journey, but they’d leave from home with Gabbie’s parents.
After several minutes of persuasion, David was finally able to persuade Clara to head home, but not before a tearful and prolonged goodbye with Dan. After all, she didn’t know if she would ever see him awake again, so parting was especially painful.
When the two Hodges men were alone in the room, David stood by his son and tussled his hair.
“Alright, buddy boy,” he said. “Time for you to get some sleep.”
Dan smiled. “Jeez, Dad, you’d think I was 10 years old or something,” he said. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not tired. Can we just talk for while? Or maybe there’s a Reds game on TV?”
Just then, the room door opened again and Dr. Parks walked in.
“Just the boys now, huh?” he asked, as he picked up Dan’s chart. All three men knew it was an empty gesture, because nothing had changed since the last time Parks was in the room an hour earlier — Dan hadn’t even had a blood test in that period. Nevertheless, Parks made a few scribbles on the paper and hung the clipboard back on the foot of Dan’s bed.
“Well,” Parks continued. “I still don’t agree with this cockamamie trip of yours tomorrow, but you at least need to get some sleep. Should I get you something to help you calm down?”
Dan snorted and pointed to his bloodshot eyes. “Do I look worked up to you, Doc?” he asked. “I’m the only kid in America who can sleep for months at a time, and you want to know if I need some knockout drops!”
Parks hesitated and looked to David, who greeted him with a blank expression.
“Well, OK,” Parks said in a deliberate voice. “But you’ve got to get some rest.”
Dan shrugged, “OK, you got it, Doc,” he agreed.
Parks walked toward the door, then turned to look back at the Hodges.
“And Dan,” he said. “Good luck tomorrow, and I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon, Doc,” Dan said, though he didn’t believe that at all.
As soon as Parks had closed the door, Dan turned to his father.
“Dad,” Dan said. “I really am feeling sleepy.”
David nodded. “You want me to leave? Or I can just sit in the chair there.”
“No, no! Dad, I don’t want to go to sleep. Not yet.”
David looked serious and jammed a hand into the pocket of his slacks.
Dan went on: “It’s just that I don’t know when — or if — I’ll wake up again.”
David nodded and pulled his hand out of his pocket, extending it toward Dan. In the palm where five tiny green pills.
“I thought you might feel that way, Dan,” David said. “These will help.”
Dan looked at the tablets and snatched them up in his fingers.
“Hold on, Dan,” David cautioned. “Just take one for now, and we’ll see how it goes. I got them from Jim … he says they’re his secret sauce for productivity.”
Jim was a family friend who had gone to high school with David and who worked at a local factory. He was notorious in local circles for being the most productive member of the assembly line during both second AND third shifts, six days a week, with a first shift thrown into the mix on Sunday. Jim had just barely graduated from high school, but he had made a really good living for himself through hard work.
“That’s good enough for me,” Dan said, and popped one of the greenies into his mouth, washing it down with a swig of water from the glass at his bedside.
—
Father and son talked late into the night, touching on children, school, work, and life, but mostly focusing on baseball. The Reds were six games back in the N.L. West and looked like they might have trouble tracking down the Dodgers. Jeff Burroughs was off to a hot start for the Texas Rangers, which was a shock to just about everyone, and most of the furor around Hank Aaron had died down, which Dan thought was a shame.
The REAL baseball news, of course, was that South Pickens would be playing for the Indiana state title in just a few hours. The school had been around for just five years, opening just in time for Dan’s freshman year. For most of his childhood, it was a foregone conclusion Dan would go through all 12 grades at Belle Union, but the school corporation had been planning to consolidate for quite a while behind the scenes. By the time Dan entered fifth grade, it was clear there would be a new high school in place before he graduated.
When he thought about the upcoming game against that background, Dan was more amazed than ever the Eagles had come so far. In half a decade, they had gone from not having a team to three putrid years to one decent season — Dan’s senior campaign — to the title game.
“Yes, Coach Croft has done a tremendous job,” David agreed when Dan expressed his admiration for the program. “But Dan, you know you have helped enormously, too, right?”
“Nah, Dad,” Dan deflected. “We did just OK last year, and I’m not even on the team anymore.”
“Ah, but you are part of the team, Dan,” his father told him. “They were struggling to find their groove when Coach Croft called you in to help, and you have made a big difference. It helps that you know most of the guys and can relate to them on their level, but you also have a real knack for spotting flaws, especially in the batter’s box.”
Dan blushed. “Thanks, Dad,” he said, “but I think you might be a little biased.”
David patted his son’s hand, and the two men went on talking.
By the time the sun splashed its rays across the hospital floor, David had been awake for more than 24 hours, and Dan had gobbled a fistful of “magic pills.” David needed sleep, and he knew pumping his son full of drugs was not healthiest thing to do, but he couldn’t stand to say goodbye. He had also promised Dan the two of them would watch that evening’s baseball game — the title game — together.
When Clara stepped into Dan’s room just after 7 am, she was surprised to see both of her men were awake and had all the lights on.
She looked disapprovingly to David and said, “Well, I hope you boys haven’t been up too long. It’s going to be a long day.”
Dan looked at David, who winked and said, “No, we’ve just been awake a few minutes. Dan was hungry, and so am I now that I mention it. I think I’ll walk down to see if the cafeteria is open yet.”
They had all spent enough time at Clay County over the previous year to know the cafeteria didn’t open until 8, but Dan and Clara nodded as David stepped out of the room. Mother and son needed some waking time together, and this was their chance, before they left for the game, and before the day and what was left of Dan’s summer got away from them.
David was gone for nearly an hour and returned with bacon, donuts, and coffee, which he and Clara ate while Dan worked on his hospital-issued breakfast. When his tray was just about empty, Dan poked at the green blob of jello that remained and groaned. He cast a furtive glance to the small coffee table between his parents’ chairs, where one donut remained.
David caught his son’s gaze and grinned. “You want my donut, don’t you, kid?” he asked.
“No, no, that’s OK,” Dan said, and stuck his fork into his own rubbery dessert.
His father scooped up the donut in his hand and, in one motion, chucked it across the room toward Dan’s head. “Better grab it!” he called.
Dan dropped his fork to the tray and snatched the flying donut just before it smacked him in the cheek.
He grinned and took a bite, then smiled with dough squeezing between his teeth. “Thanks, Dad!” he said.
The three Hodges laughed, and Clara clutched her husband’s hand.
—
Once breakfast was done, Dan got up and dressed, and then he and Clara packed his bags without even discussing it. He was awake at the moment, but they both knew it would be short-lived. They also knew, based on his recent trends, his next sleep might be the BIG sleep. The insurance company was done paying for his hospital stays, so he would head home that night, one way or another.
Meanwhile, David spent the rest of the morning making phone calls, to Gabbie and to his boss and to Dr. Parks. Were there any last minute precautions they needed to take, David wanted to know, now that they were leaving the hospital?
No, Parks told him, and expressed again that he thought the whole outing was a terrible idea. “You’ve already ignored all my advice, David, so I really can’t give you any words of wisdom.”
Nevertheless, Parks was waiting for the Hodges in the hospital parking lot when they emerged half an hour later. It was an off day for him, he said, but he “happened” to be driving by and thought he’d stop in.
David smiled and extended his hand.
“Thanks, Dr. Parks,” he said. “For everything.”
Parks nodded and looked to Dan, who followed 20 feet behind his father, walking slowly with his mother.
“So, young man, you’re really leaving us today, I see?” Parks said, smiling.
Dan shrugged. “Guess so, Doc,” he said. “Makes sense, right? Since there’s nothing wrong with me?”
Parks pursed his lips and said, “Just don’t get carried away this evening, Dan.”
Then, to Clara: “And CALL me if you need me, or if anything doesn’t seem quite right.”
“We will, Doctor,” she promised. “Thank you for everything,” she repeated her husband’s gratitude.
Parks gave her a curt nod and walked to his car two spots over.
“Now,” he said. “I have some golf to play.”
And with that, he hopped into his red Mercedes, keyed the engine to life, and sped out of the hospital parking lot.
“Looks like we’re not the only ones with some fun planned for today,” Dan said. He called out to Parks as the doctor whizzed past: “See you on Opening Day, Doc!”
Five minutes later, the Hodges had loaded Dan’s belongings into David’s truck, and the three of them piled into Clara’s car, the family sedan, to head to the last game of the year.