Jacqueline Druga - The Flu

“Hey.” Mick picked up his pace to greet him.

Chris let out a few hyperventilated breaths. “Mick.”

The horror on Chris’ face shot through him. “What’s wrong?”

It was more of a whimper then a spoken word that Chris released. “Mick,” he took a couple of fast breaths, “it’s Mom.”

Wondering if she had fallen, if she’d gotten hurt, Mick flew into the house. The second he stepped inside he received his answer.

A cough.

Barking-like, deep, thick, and rumbling. It filled Mick’s ears with blood and his legs were numb as he charged upstairs. “Dylan!” he called her name with fear as he raged into the bedroom.

From the dresser Dylan turned around to face Mick. Her eyes were red, filled with panic and sadness as she slowly lowered her hand from her mouth. “Mick… oh God.” She lifted her trembling fingers to expose her blood-laced palm.

The scraping of Mick’s fingertips across the dining room table broke the quiet while he and Dylan waited for Lars to speak. His forehead rested against his other hand as he stared down to the table.

When Dylan heard Lars clear his throat, and noticed Mick not looking up, she grabbed his hand. “I need this more than your head does.” She slipped her fingers tightly in between his. “It’ll be fine,” she whispered, then looked to Tom, who sat on her left. She took comfort in her father’s hand that rubbed reassuringly on her back.

Lars glanced down to the faces of Dylan, Mick, and Tom. “I don’t think I need to tell you.”

Dylan nodded slowly and let out a quivering breath. “We figured as much.”

Tilting his head, Mick’s eyes squinted. “What happened? How did this happen so fast? I kissed her this morning. She was fine.”

“What time did you leave the house, Mick?” Lars asked. “I saw you at five in the fields. It’s nine at night. Time is what happened.”

Rolling his fingers into a fist, Mick lightly slammed it on the table. “Why didn’t I come back? Why didn’t I come back here?”

“And what?” Dylan asked him. “Mick, I didn’t even know I was sick. I have cried so much over these past few days, I didn’t know. I didn’t know until I started coughing a little bit ago.”

“Start the antibiotics,” Mick said strongly.

Tom tried to intervene. “Mick, look…”

“Start them!” Mick blasted at Lars.

“And what!” Lars yelled back.

“Try to beat this thing! Damn it, try!”

Lars held up his hand, it was not the time to lose control. “Mick, for what? Yes, I know you want to try everything to save her. But what are we doing? The dosages I will give her will knock her out for twelve to fourteen hours. That is twelve hours that you could talk to her. Hold her. Say things you always wanted to say. Don’t lose that. Do not lose that time.”

Mick tossed his hands. “So we just give up? Just like that?”

“Mick,” Tom spoke up, “this is my kid. You think for one second that I don’t wanna fight this thing, too? But where do we draw the line on fighting? We saw it all.”

“There is no line to be drawn in fighting for Dylan,” Mick said tenaciously as he stood up. “I have fought my entire life for her, I will not stop now.”

Softly, as she stood, Dylan spoke. “Yes, Mick. You will.” She walked to him. “This got ahead of me. As neurotic as I was about this flu, the time I had it, I didn’t even think about it. I don’t wanna stop fighting either.” She reached up and touched his face. “I don’t. But I am okay right now with this. I am. The only thing that scares me is not the pain that I’ll go through at the end. It’s the thought of my father, my children, and you watching it.”

“They don’t have to,” Lars spoke up.

Slowly Dylan turned to face Lars.

Mick was hit with the revelation. “No.”

After seeing that Dylan comprehended where he was going, Lars continued. “Listen to me, okay? Dylan is bleeding right now. What that means is that in a few hours, a few hours Mick, she’ll be too sick to get out of bed. This time tomorrow, because of her size, she’ll be too sick to respond, the next day, incapacitated. We give all of you tonight with her. And tomorrow morning, just as she reaches the point where she will be in pain, unable to breathe or function, we will give her the euthanasia.”

“No!” Mick yelled.

“Mick,” Lars said calmly, “she won’t feel anything. No pain. A euphoric feel when she passes instead of agonizing pain. Instead of suffocating and drowning, she’ll merely close her eyes.”

“You wanna kill my wife, Lars! Like a sick animal you put to sleep. Tom, come on,” Mick looked to him with pleading eyes. “Argue with me on this. Dylan…” He turned to her.

Dylan took a slow breath, which produced a cough that shook her entire body. She looked at Lars and her father. “Can we be alone for a second, please?”

Mick stood in the silence as Tom and Lars walked out. He waited for a moment before he spoke. “I won’t let you do this.”

“Mick, listen.”

“No, Dylan. No. You’ll leave me tomorrow morning? Don’t cheat me out of every single second I have left with you. Please, don’t cheat me out of that.”

“It’s quality versus quantity.”

“I want it all. Every moment. Do you hear me?” Mick argued with passion. “I have fought for you, I have waited for you, I finally have you and now…”

“Do you think I want to leave you?” Dylan whispered. “Don’t you think it’s breaking my heart right now to have to leave you and my sons? It is. I watched my flesh and blood leave this earth in the most horrible way. I don’t want my father to see his child leave this earth like that. I don’t… I don’t want my kids to see that again. I don’t want you to have to clean me, change me, hear me scream. Let me go with dignity. Let me say while I still have my full mind what I have to say to all of you.” Her voice dropped even further. “Just let me say… goodbye.”

Dylan looked into the eyes she needed to see. Tigger’s. No fear, no sadness, only his smile. His face close to hers as she lay on her side. “You know,” she reached and touched him, “all these people can take a lesson from you right now.”

“Why’s that?” Tigger asked.

“Look how strong you are.”

“I’m trying.” Tigger reached out and grabbed the intravenous tube. “Is this your medicine?”

“Yep,” Dylan said. “Almost done, see?”

After looking to the IV bag, Tigger nodded. “Then?”

“Then I go to sleep. That’s why I wanted to just, you know, tell you I’m hoping you’ll keep Mick in line for me.”

Tigger glanced to Mick who was right there. “That’s a tough job.”

Dylan inched closer. “You think Chris can handle it?” She shook her head. “Pap will kill him.” She smiled. “You’re the tough one. Look how good you’re being right now.”

“I’m still sad.”

“I am, too. Come here.” She pulled Tigger closer and embraced him. “You get going. Go wait downstairs. I love you very much.”

“I love you too, Mommy.” Tigger backed from the embrace with a small pout. “I’ll miss you.”

“Ditto.” Dylan fought her tears as she promised herself she wouldn’t cry. She let Tigger’s hand slip from hers as he stepped back.

Chris stepped forward; he dropped. He dropped to the floor, head to the bed and he grabbed on to Dylan. “Mom.”

Watching it made Mick unable to breathe. He laid his hand on Chris’ shoulder and squeezed.

“Chris,” Dylan whispered, “look at me. I wanna look at you.” When he raised his head she saw the tears. Reaching out, she wiped them. “I know it doesn’t seem fair right now. But think about it: I think all this happened for a reason. You guys will stay here with Mick and Pap, and I’ll be up there taking care of Dustin. I think he needs me, Chris.”