Monday, June 9, 2008

Coming Around Again

William sat in the back of the ambulance as the paramedics worked to patch the hole in his father's chest. He would not have imagined that morning that he would be fighting to keep his father alive when the day concluded, but here he was. He had called the ambulance and told them a mad man had come and shot his father. He hid the gun in the freezer before the ambulance arrived and rode the entire trip without saying a word. He only stared at his father's labored breathing and remembered those words on the phone.

We've found your son? Was he really looking for me? William stared at the array of plastic containers stocked on the opposite side of the ambulance and pondered his experience. Had he been wrong all of these years? Was his father always looking for him to make amends, but had a terrible service working for him until the one today? If that was the case, what are the odds of the call coming in just as he stood over his father's body?

A gurgle from his father on the stretcher drew William's attention from the drawers. He turned to find his father attempting to lean up and his eyes met William's eyes. There was a pleading in Andrew's eyes much like someone being held at gun point. Only there was a less life concerned edge to this look. It was the pleading eyes of someone still looking for forgiveness. Even after William shot him, Andrew still wanted William's forgiveness instead of the other way around. This was not the trip William had expected to be making today.


Andrew Porter had done nothing good in his life and made no indication he ever would, but that morning in that kitchen, William had not shot that Andrew Porter.

Upon arriving at the hospital, William clarified that he was Andrew's long lost son and asked if there was anything he could do to help his father. When the nurse told him he could donate blood for his father to lessen the impact on their low blood reserves, he emphatically agreed and spent the next half hour giving blood specifically marked for his father post-surgery.

During the hour and a half while his father lie in the operating room, William wondered the halls of the hospital. He went past his brother's room to find him passed out likely recovery from his recent encounter when his stitches came open. William had caused this pain too. His foster mother would not have been surprised. She had always sensed William had something scarred about him ever since she admitted he was adopted shortly after birth. Some people just take being abandoned immediately in their life and decide the world never wanted them either.
A nurse tapped William on the shoulder to let him know his father was in recovery and he could sit with him if he liked. He would like that.
After surgery, he sat with his father as the doctors attached the IV and waited. He began to hope his father would recover from the gun shot so soon after his liver surgery. He also hoped that he might get to know this man he had just met; the one that did not fit the personality he had heard was his father.

The nurse came in with a new bag of blood with "For Andrew Porter" written in pen on the side. William knew this was his blood and gained a little pleasure watching to nurse attach it to his father's arm. He began to feel some redemption was coming for both he and his father today.

The nurse left the room as the blood began to course through Andrew's veins and William felt he could see his father's cheeks flush a bit. The color was returning as his father opened his eyes ten minutes later. He looked confused as he realized he was in the hospital again. His eyes fixed on his son's as he reached out his left arm and called him.

William was taken back by the gesture and moved closer to his father to hear what he had to say. In a low whisper that only William could hear, Andrew said, "William, my boy?"

Tear welled in his eyes as William responded. "Yes...father?"

"When I get back on my feet, son...I'm going to make you suffer for ever drop of blood I've lost today. If you survive the first wave of punishment I plan to send your way, you'll only wish you'd died."

Astounded, William stood staring down at his father. This was the Andrew Porter he had wanted to shoot, but where had he been and why was he returning now?

1 comment:

Bob said...

Apologies for the delay. Just returning from Greece took a bit more out of me than anticipated.