“I feel like fried chicken,” says my mom.
“You feel battered and bruised?” asks my dad.
“No, I feel like
eating
fried chicken,” she clarifies. It sends Ivy and Simon into laughter.
“I vote for burgers,” urges Simon.
“How about eggrolls?” says Ivy.
“They don’t have drive-through eggroll places,” Simon argues.
“They should,” my sister says. “Million-dollar idea. Someone should run with it.”
“The closest place is the burger joint,” says my dad as he pulls into the drive-through.
For the next five minutes, they argue about salt, whether my mom’s soda is
actually
diet or they made a mistake, who ordered the small fries and who ordered medium, and whether it was three-piece or five-piece chicken strips my dad hollered into the speaker, because all they got was three. And no sweet-and-sour dipping sauce.
I’m not hungry, so I don’t eat. I take a chocolate shake though.
We merge into traffic heading into downtown Toronto, and eat on the road with my dad’s favorite country music playing. Twenty-five minutes later, when my dad pulls the van next to the curb at Burgen’s office tower, I step out.
Simon’s squeezing ketchup onto his fries and offers me one.
“No thanks.” But I’m grateful for the gesture.
“Don’t be too long,” says Ivy. “Want us to pick you up again?”
“Nah, I’ll take the subway home. I’m going to Vlad’s after this.” It’s another white lie. I plan on going time traveling after I speak to Burgen, and if I’m back late tonight, they’ll assume I’m with Vlad and won’t worry about me.
“Well,” says my dad, “I guess we don’t have to be too concerned about leaving you here. Dr. Burgen
is
a doctor. The hospital’s right across the street. And you’ve got your cell phone, right? You’ll call us if you need us?”
“Yeah.”
My mom sticks her head out the window. Her lipstick’s faded and her hair’s a mess. “Maybe tomorrow, we can watch that funny guy you like. That stand-up comedian who talks about UFOs.”
“Ace from Outer Space,” I say. No more zombies for her. “Thanks for the ride, Dad.”
He’s so exhausted he’s got permanent dark hollows beneath his eyes.
He nods. “Anything I can do to help, Luke.”
I look at them, this bizarre mix of people, and my chest flutters like I’m skating out-of-control and need to latch onto them for support. Like I’m three years old, being dropped off at nursery school and never wanting to see their faces disappear. I ache to tell them that I love them.
I want to, but the words don’t come.
I struggle and try and as I open my mouth, my dad shifts gear and the van rolls away into Saturday night traffic. I watch it until it becomes the size of a dime.
The gentle wind whistles through the trees. Orange leaves fall across the dark sky. I turn around and head up to Burgen’s office.
When I push through his door, he looks concerned. “What is it, Luke? What’s the trouble?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
I run my hand over the soft bristles on my head and explain to Burgen. “I figured out mistake number three. I need to talk to you about it.”
He lets the comment sit between us for a moment.
“Have a seat, have a seat.” He looks at me weird the whole time I step across the rug. “Can I get you a glass of water?”
“No thanks, I’m fine.”
“You’re sweating.”
“I...I broke a rib.”
“Ouch. That must sting.” He’s still studying me. “How’d it happen?”
“I had a fight with Gary. He’s the guy in my class who was targeting Simon.”
“Ah, geez.” He inhales. “So you saw a doctor...?”
“This afternoon.”
He nods in relief.
So that’s what he’s worried about? That I don’t look the greatest? He slides his hand over his chest. The fabric of his fancy shirt changes color from dull navy to shiny blue, depending how the light catches it. It’s a cool shirt.
“Can I get you anything?” he asks.
I shake my head, settle onto the sofa, but don’t feel like lying down. Cool leather cushions envelope my back and I feel better.
“Sorry about pulling you away from home,” I begin.
He cracks open the window, then pulls his rolling chair out from behind his desk, plants it close to me and sits. “I’m glad you did. It was my turn to vacuum.”
Vacuum? He catches me off-guard with his amusing comment. I’m not sure if he’s just trying to make me laugh or what. “Don’t you have a housekeeper?”
“Saturday’s her day off. She likes to go golfing.”
I grin and so does he.
“For real?”
“Yeah.”
We laugh.
“My wife and I did something interesting yesterday,” he says in a more serious tone. “An ultrasound of the new baby.”
“How was that?”
“Fascinating. It’s a girl.”
“Wow. That’s really something. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
I enjoy the moment with him. I look to the photo of his wife in the sleek wooden frame on his desk. She’s got long red hair and a shy smile, sitting on a dock with her feet in the water. You can tell she’s pregnant.
“What’s it like to be married?”
He taps his fingers gently on his knee. His expression softens. “Easiest thing I’ve ever done, and the hardest. Easy because it made me realize what’s important in life. We’re connected, you know. Ally and I will always be connected. And now we have our little girl. It’s the hardest precisely for the same reasons. It’s all connected and sometimes you don’t feel strong enough to keep it together.”
“Your daughter’s lucky to have you as a father.”
His eyes glisten with compassion. “You’re one of a kind, Luke. Your father is lucky to have you as a son.”
A pleasant breeze rolls in from the window and caresses my face.
“What were you doing today, Luke?”
I decide to skip the details about Gary. It’s not important for why I’m here now. It dawns on me that in handling Gary on my own, I’m beginning to make decisions without needing to talk to Burgen about everything first, like I have been for the past year. “This afternoon I went for chemo. Then I was hanging out with my family. Trying to watch a movie. Arguing. Not talking. My mother sobbing. My dad not knowing what to say.”
“Ivy and Simon were there, too?”
“Yeah.”
“How were they?”
“I think Simon remembers. I mean...during my last time travel, I helped him. I really helped him. I said I was sorry like you suggested and it felt really good. I got my sister involved...and now I think Simon doesn’t mind having me around. I can’t ask him about any of that because you said it could wipe out all of his emotional memories if they’re not in place yet, but there’s a real friendship between us. And come to think of it, I didn’t see any bruises on him today. The one on his ear and cheek should still be there, but they were gone. The timeline shifted.”
Burgen tilts his head and smiles. “Sounds like correcting mistake number two was successful.”
I grin, buoyant that Simon didn’t have any bruises. It means that Gary hasn’t beaten him up lately. Maybe he hasn’t beaten him up for a long time.
“And mistake number one? How’s it going with Jennifer?”
I sigh. “Great in the past. But I still can’t find her right here, right
now
. Vlad and I discovered a newspaper article. We found out that she had an accident in Hawaii and broke her arm. That was almost a year ago. So I’ve got a place to search for her. But short of going there in person, which is impossible right now, I’ve come to a dead end.”
“If you don’t find her, don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“That’s not an option. I’m
going
to find her.”
He nods. “How about Ivy? Any changes in her?”
“...I don’t think so. I wish...I wish she wouldn’t feel so awful about my illness.”
“It’s a normal reaction for someone close to you.”
“I know, but she’s so tied up by it, she apologizes for almost everything she says to me.”
Looking suddenly concerned, he taps the area beneath his eyes. “You’ve got a bit of bruising, Luke. How’re you feeling?”
“Tired. Not too bad.”
“You hungry? You look like you could use a pizza.”
“Well…actually, pizza sounds good. You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
I watch him rise and touch dial some numbers on the phone. He hangs up without waiting for anyone to answer. “On second thought, why don’t we go out? There’s a pizza shop on the corner.”
I think he wants me to get some fresh air. Maybe he wants to see how steady I am on my feet. “You want to see how good I walk?”
“Yeah. I’ll have you walk a straight line. Make sure you’re not intoxicated.”
“Ha.”
We take the elevator and are at the corner five minutes later. It’s a fast-food place, nothing fancy. The tables are half full. The ovens are hot and the pizzas smell great.
“What kind do you like?” He turns at the counter, blond hair turning orange beneath one of their lights.
“Pepperoni? Thick crust?” I say.
“Sounds good to me.”
He orders an extra large along with orange juice for me and root beer for him. While they’re baking it, we settle into some chairs by the window and watch headlights and taillights whiz by. We’re in a private spot with no one occupying the adjacent tables, so we’re able to talk without being overheard.
“Mistake number three,” he says. “Are you up for it? You can postpone it for as long as you like. The dice will wait until you feel stronger, if today’s not your best day.”
“I don’t want to wait any longer.”
“You had chemo today and you broke a rib. I’m not sure–”
“I’d rather do it with you than without you, Doc.”
Judging by his frank gaze, he knows I’m focused. He knows I’ve got the dice and I control it.
“It’s about my family, Doc.”
“Okay.”
The pizza arrives. We take a break. He insists I eat as many slices as I can. He nibbles on his and I come to realize he’s not hungry, he ordered it just for me.
Ten minutes later, I’m done. “Wow, I devoured that.”
“Want to continue this outside?”
“Sure.”
We exit into the street.
My step has more energy. I try not to go too fast because my stride is longer than Burgen’s.
It’s a warm night and brilliant for walking. The trees lining the street are turning color. Leaves rustle around us. We stroll along the deserted sidewalk, heading for the familiar park. Lampposts light the way. Burgen’s amazing navy shirt is now turning purple under the moon.
I want to tell him what’s bothering me. He has a way of putting things into perspective. Like a caring parent might.
“Mistake number three is that I never went to Parry Sound with the rest of my family to see my grandfather one last time. My mom begged me to go because my grandpa was dying. I never saw him again. My mom can’t get over it.”
“This is not about her,” Burgen says gently. “The three things you choose to replay are about you. The mistakes have to be what you consider to be mistakes, not someone else.”
“It was my mistake. I’m absolutely sure. On so many levels, I’m sorry that I wasn’t there. I need to go back and say yes to visit Grandpa.”
“All right. Tell me about him, Luke.”
∞
We continue walking and after a moment, I open up. “Grandpa was one of those old men who never said a kind word about anybody. I mean about anybody else except the family. He liked us well enough, but not his neighbors.”
“Hmm.” Burgen shoves his hands into his pockets. “Did he ever tell you why he thought that?”
“Oh, yeah, you could never shut him up about the reasons.”
“What did you think of that?”
“My sister and I always thought it was funny, but we got to feeling sorry for him. I wondered what sort of life he had. Why he couldn’t get along with anyone.”
Burgen’s shimmering purple sleeve brushes against a shrub. Car brakes squeal in the distant traffic.
“I think he used to be different when my grandma was alive. That’s what my mom says anyway. I never met my grandma, but I can’t imagine him happy.”
“How did she die?”
“Struck by lightning.”
“Wow.”
“On a golf course with him. He never played after that. Always blamed himself, that he shouldn’t have asked her to play that day. That it should’ve been him who got hit.”
“What a guilt trip.”
“Yeah.”
“Survivor’s guilt.” Burgen adjusts his cool glasses. “That’s what it’s called. When someone feels guilty that they remain alive when someone close to them passes.”
Psychiatrists have names for everything.
“There’s not much you can do about it,” he says, “other than reassure the person. Be patient, listen to their stories.”
That was pretty much what we all did with Grandpa.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Luke.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” I kick my foot along the curb.
“How did your grandfather die?”
“He had a bad heart. He died on his couch watching TV.”
“I see.”
“I never told anybody, but I went back and checked.”
“Checked what?”
“They found his TV on channel three the next morning. The news was blaring. That’s how a neighbor found him because his German Shepherd wouldn’t stop scratching at my grandpa’s patio door. The neighbor knocked and knocked, then called the cops and they found Grandpa. Anyway, the coroner said he died just past eight o’clock the previous night. So I went back and checked the channel on the internet and found out he was watching a documentary.
On the Life of Whales
. I taped it.”
Burgen nods and keeps listening.
“I feel closer to him when I watch it. I wonder at what point in the film…what point exactly he keeled over and died. I never knew he had it in him to watch something so beautiful.”
“It’s always a gift when you discover something nice about someone you knew.”
“I wish I knew him better. I wish I hadn’t been chicken to see him that one last time.”
Burgen pauses. “Why didn’t you go?”
“At first, I said I wasn’t into it. Who wants to go see an old person? I wanted to hang out with my friends. Really though? I was scared. My mom said he was dying and I didn’t want to see him like that. Man…” I shake my head in commiseration. “Ever since I got diagnosed, a lot of people react to me like that. They avoid me. I can’t believe it. That’s the hardest thing to take.”