Brandon (part two)

My mother drove steadily, thought not fast. The roads were ice and slush and no one else on the interstate seemed to remember that they had driven in these conditions before. Panicked and swerving and four-way flashers on, the cars around us seemed far more dangerous than the weather. She asked me if I knew anything else. I didn't. We didn't speak much on the way, but every few minutes she said things like "I'm sure he's fine," and "it's okay James," and in the back seat Black Brandon watched us and he didn't want to smile and I could feel him.

 I couldn't shake the dream and a bud of hollowness in my chest, ever expanding slowly. 

An hour and a half later we were in Albany and the Medical Center. I went to the E.R. because I didn't know where else to go. There was a nurse at the desk and she looked indifferently at me. "Can I help you?"

"Yes. My name is James Martin. My friend was just admitted a few hours ago. I was his emergency contact. I don't know where he is."

She looked at her computer screen and she wasn't panicked but I was. "Name?"

"James Martin."

"No, his name. The patients name."

"Oh, Brandon. Brandon Stevens." 

My mother stood next to me. "Relax bud," she said, "keep calm."

The nurse played on her keyboard. "He seems to be in the Critical Care unit."

"Can I see him?"

 "Are you family?"

"What? No. I'm his emergency contact. I'm his friend. He doesn't have family."

 "I will have one of the other nurses bring you up. Just have a seat and someone will be with you shortly."

My mother and I sat down in the waiting room. The walls were painted a cold grey and the lights were humming and bright and there was a man across the room from us with a towel around his hand that might have started off white but was now deep red and saturated and I wondered how long he had been here.

"It's going to be all right," my mother said.

"I know," I said. "I know."

"Good. Brandon doesn't have any other family?"

"Not that I know of. It's a long story."

"Okay," she said.

We waited a while longer and each time the door opened I was ready to stand up and leave but they always called another name and each time it happened was exponentially more infuriating than the last. 

Finally a nurse who looked older than she probably was came in through the door and I expected her to call another name, but she called mine. We stood up and followed her through the doors and to the elevator.

"Do you know what happened to him?" I asked.

She was looking at paperwork and not at us. "No, all I know is that I was to take you upstairs to Critical."

"Okay."

We went to the fourth floor and got out. The old young nurse took us to the nurses station of the unit. "One nurse was there and she was on the phone. "This is Louise. She'll help you out." The old young nurse left and Louise was still on the phone.

I looked up and down the hall looking for clues as to where he might be. The doors were all closed and there wasn't much noise from anywhere. Louise hung up the phone. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for my friend. Brandon Stevens. I was told he was here."

"Are you family?" she asked.

"No, I'm his emergency contact. Someone called me."

"Oh, you're James. Yes I called you. And this is...?" she nodded to my mother.

"My mother."

"Okay, unfortunately she's going to have to stay out here."

"Okay," I said. 

Louise stood up and walked around the desk and I followed her down the hall. It was dim and I heard machines beep and my heart sunk and She opened the door to room eleven and walked in and I followed her.

Brandon was in a bed. His eyes were closed and he had tape wrapped around most of his head and he was purple and red and black and not moving. He had an oxygen mask in place and hoses in his arms and a light shining down on him, and machines gauging who knew what.

It's okay, James. I heard Black Brandon say again.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Unfortunately, while I can let you see him and help fill out some of the paperwork, I can't divulge that sort of information to anyone other than family."

"He doesn't have any."

"I still can't. The doctor might, but he is tied up at the moment."

"Can you tell me if he's going to be okay?"

She looked at him, and then me and tightened her lips. "I really can't say. He's scheduled for tests tomorrow and they should know then if you want to come back and speak to the doctor."

Brandon was swelling. I could see it in his hands and neck and the parts of his face that I could see. His machine beeped in time.

"I can't get here again," I said.

"You are free to wait in the sitting area outside of the unit."

"Okay. Thank you."

"We should leave now though, he'll need as much peace as he can get," she said and I didn't know then what she meant.

I went out and my mother was still at the nurses station.

"They won't tell me anything," I said.

"Because you aren't family?"

"Yeah."

"But you are his emergency contact?"

"Doesn't matter," I said. "They're doing tests tomorrow and she said the doctor might tell me something then."

"I have to work in the morning. I can't stay here all night."

"I have to stay."

"How will you get home?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'll figure it out."

"Okay," she said.

Louise handed me a clipboard with a stack of papers. If you can just fill these out as best as you can?"

"What are these?" I asked.

"Basic intake forms. Some insurance things." 

"I don't know a lot of this," I said, flipping through it all.

"Just fill out what you can," she said.

I took the clipboard into the sitting area and my mother and I sat down.

"Are you all right if I head home then bud?"

"Yeah, mom, I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes, thank you for driving me."

"Of course. Listen," she said, "I love you. Brandon will be okay, I promise. Keep calm."

"Okay."

She kissed my forehead and faked a smile and left and I began to fill out the paperwork and Brandon was red and purple and bandaged and not moving. Black Brandon sat next to me and together we listened to the clock tick and neither of us really slept and we waited for morning.