“Burrows didn’t tell me it’d be like this,” Todd said.
“There’s nothing to get worked up about,” Donnie replied.
Even in his semi-drugged state, Todd knew a lie when he heard one.
“You’re not a very good actor,” he said.
“Runs in the family,” Donnie quipped, and squeezed Todd’s arm again. “Just kidding.”
“Yeah … yeah … ” Todd said. As he spoke a spasm of pain ran from the bridge of his nose and spread across his face in both directions. He was suddenly in excruciating agony. “Jesus,” he gasped. “Jesus. Make it stop!”
He felt Donnie’s reassuring hand go from his arm; heard his brother crossing to the door again, yelling as he went, his voice suddenly shrill with fear: “Will somebody get in here. Right now! Christ!”
Todd’s panic, momentarily soothed by his brother’s voice, started to rise up in him again. He raised his hand to his face. The bandages were tight and smooth, like a visor over his head, searing him in. He started to hyperventilate. He was going to die in here, if he didn’t get this smothering stuff off his face. He began to claw at the bandages. He needed air. Right now!
Air, for Christ’s sake, air —
“Mr. Pickett, don’t do that! Please!”
The nurse caught hold of Todd’s hands, but the panic and the pain made him strong and she couldn’t prevent him from digging his fingers beneath the bandages and pulling.
There were flashes of light in his head, but he knew it wasn’t the light of the outside world he was seeing. His brain was overloading; fear was leaping like lightning across his skull. His blood roared in his ears. His body thrashed around in the bed as though he was in the grip of a seizure.
“All right, nurse. I’ve got him now.”
Suddenly, there were hands around his wrists. Somebody stronger than the nurse was gently but insistently pulling his fingers away from his face. Then a voice came to find him through the sound of his own sobs.
“Todd? This is Doctor Burrows. Everything is fine. But please calm down. Let me explain what’s going on. There’s nothing to worry about.” He spoke like a hypnotist, the cadence of his sentences even, his voice completely calm. And while he went on speaking, repeating the same information — that everything was fine, all Todd had to do was breathe deeply, deeply — he held Todd’s arms against the bed.
After a few moments, the bright bursts of light began to become less frequent. The din of blood began to recede. So, by degrees, did the waves of panic.
“There,” Doctor Burrows said, when the worst of it was over. “You see? Everything’s fine and dandy. Now why don’t we get you a fresh pillow? Nurse Karyn? Would you please get Mr. Pickett a nice fresh pillow?”
Oh so gently, Burrows raised the upper half of Todd’s body off the bed, talking to him all the while: the same calming monologue. All the strength to resist, indeed all need to do so, had gone out of Todd. All he could do was abandon himself to Burrows’ care.
Finally he said: “What’s … wrong … with me?”
“First let’s get you comfortable,” Burrows replied. “Then we’ll talk it all through.”
Todd felt the motion of the nurse as she slipped the fresh pillow into place behind him. Then, with the same tenderness as he used to lift him up, Burrows carefully lowered Todd back down upon the pillow.
“There. Isn’t that better?” Burrows said, finally letting his patient go. Todd felt a pang of separation, like a child who’d been abruptly deserted. “I’m going to let you rest for a while,” Burrows went on. “And when you’ve slept, we’ll talk properly.”
“No … ” Todd said.
“Your brother Don’s here with you.”
“I’m here, Todd.”
“I want to talk now.” Todd said, “Not later. Now. Donnie! Make him stay.”
“It’s okay, Kiddo,” Donnie said with just the right edge of threat, “Doctor B.’s not goin’ anywhere. Answer his question, Doc.”
“Well, first things first,” Burrows said. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with your eyes, if that’s what you’re worried about. We just have to keep the dressings in place around your eye-sockets.”