Stones in the Road

Chapter 8: Yes, But…

Chapter 8: Yes, But…After Jackson left for dinner with his parents, I crawled into bed with Noah. His body was limp and feverish. I looked at his face, now relaxed in sleep. Dark circles lay under his eyes, and he was more pale than usual. This morning in Memphis, he had seemed perfectly fine. Now, suddenly…

Doctor Kemmer had warned the onset of puberty might bring “troubles.” He had been in no hurry to elaborate on what sort of “troubles” to expect, had told me to simply keep an eye on Noah and report anything unusual. Anything at all, no matter how small it might seem. I suspected it had to do with the growth spurt brought on by puberty. His small, underdeveloped veins might not accommodate the increased flow of blood to places like the heart and brain. A tiny hole in the heart in the wrong place could become a serious problem when the heart grew larger. A deformed or smallish organ might get overwhelmed as its neighbors grew in size and capacity. The possibilities were plenty—and frightening. Rather than engage in endless what-if scenarios, Doctor Kemmer preferred to wait and see what actually occurred.

He was right not to panic, of course, but I could not shake the feeling of impending doom. Noah had done amazingly well for so many years now, would soon be twelve. I could not bring myself to believe our luck might run out.

Yet…

When he was born, the doctors warned me not to get my hopes up, said it would be a miracle if he lived more than three months. Three months came and went, and they extended the deadline to a year. Then it was two years. Then it was five years. Noah kept right on keeping on, oblivious to their deadlines and doubts.

I pushed long blond hair out of his face, and he turned to me in his sleep, putting his arm around my waist, snuggling up to me like he’d done as a small boy. After what we’d been through—the meth-baby rages, the darkness in his soul, the deafness, the health problems, the insecurities, his mother’s rejection and her unexpected death a couple of years back…after we had fought so hard to get to where we were…surely God wouldn’t let it end badly.

Surely God wouldn’t take my boy from me.

Surely…

The possibility squeezed my insides into a painful knot.

Yes…a small, still voice said in the back of my mind.

But…

What if?

That was a question I could not—would not—answer.

But, the small voice said again.

What if?