Red and Blue Chronicles Box Set

Chapter 2-3

Mom was taking a nap and Dad was watching TV.

I cleared my throat. “Going f—for a bi—bike—”

“Don’t go too far,” Dad grumbled without turning away from the TV screen. He never had the patience to let me finish any of my sentences. “It’s suppertime soon and I’m making your favorite. We’re having sloppy joes.”

I gagged. God, I hated those brown things.

I rode my bike to the Verdun hospital. It wasn’t very far. Just down the street, four or five blocks going east. The opposite of where the sun sets. I left my bike in the parking lot and walked into the emergency room. There were a lot of people in there. Mostly old people. Some kids, too. None of them looked like they were dying. I’d never been to the hospital. Except once, but that doesn’t really count. I was very young, and I don’t remember why I was there, except that they made me eat a lot of Jell-O.

I looked around for the Lunds, but didn’t see them anywhere.

Bored and worried, I sat down next to an old man who smelled like mothballs and steamed broccoli. I watched the nurses and doctors. The doctors were all men and carried clipboards. The nurses were girls and frowned a lot. One of them looked at me from across the room and squinted. She whispered something to another nurse, then walked right up to me.

“Are you alone here?” Her eyebrows met in the middle and her lips looked like they were on a diet.

I thought I was in trouble. “No ma’am. I ca—came here with m—my dad.” People never believe a word I say, on account of my stuttering.

She looked over at the old man snoring in the chair next to me. “Come with me. Come on. Let’s go.”

What now? Why couldn’t she ask the girl chewing on her piggy tails to come with her?

The nurse took me to a smaller room. There was a sign on the door: Triage. “Sit down. What’s your name?”

“D—derek O’Reilly.”

She squinted again. “How old are you, Derek O’Reilly?”

“Twelve.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m wai—waiting for my friend.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“Boone. Boone Lund.”

She c****d her head and frowned. “You shouldn’t be here alone. The emergency room is a dangerous place.” She picked up the phone. “Lydia, can you tell me what room the Lund boy is in, please?”

I stared at my toes. My shoes were torn at the edges and I needed new laces.

“Okay,” she said after she hung up, “I’ll take you to his room. He’s upstairs. Next time, you ask your mom or dad to come with you.”

“Yes, ma’am, th—thank you.”

In the elevator, there was hardly any room to stand. There was a man on a stretcher, and his face was all gray and yellow. There were tubes coming out of his neck and arms. He kept farting out of his mouth.

The nurse pulled me close to her. “Stay close.”

When the doors opened, I hurried out. I was glad to be free of that awful man. The nurse tugged on my T-shirt and pointed ahead. “You go straight. It’s a few doors down. Room 234.”

When I got to 234, I stopped short. The door was ajar. I hugged the wall, listening.

Mrs. Lund was crying. Had I made a mistake coming? Then I heard Johan. He didn’t sound too angry. His voice was more like warm maple spread, and before too long, Mrs. Lund had stopped her whimpering.

I knocked on the door and pushed on it a little, poking my face in the wedge, but didn’t say anything.

Boone lay in a big white bed. His face was the same color as the walls. He had a plastic thing stuck up his nose, and a tube coming out his arm. The tube was attached to a bag with some kind of liquid that looked like pee. Johan sat next to him, directly on the bed, and Mrs. Lund sat in the armchair with Lene on her lap. She kept blotting her eyes with a tissue and her cheeks were smeared with black make-up.

Nick stood in the far right corner of the room with his hands buried deep inside his pockets. His eyes were like that thunderstorm we had last year, the one that tore the roof off the shed.

Johan was the first to see me. “Derek, what are you doing here? Do your parents know you’re here?”

At that moment, I remembered Boone’s blue eyes rolling back into his head and my throat tightened. Tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t speak. I just shook my head, pushing the bad thoughts out of my mind.

“Well, I’m not sure what to make of all this, Derek.” Johan’s eyes shone, too. “I don’t understand. I would think you’d know better. I’m real disappointed in you boys.” It was the way he said those words. He wasn’t yelling, but I think I would have preferred he did. He simply shook his head and sighed. “You know, Boone needs some tests done now. Doc says he might have some brain damage. Brain damage, Derek, do you understand what that means?”

I understood.

From the bed, Boone whined, “Dad, Red didn’t know what I was—”

“Not a word from you. Understood? I don’t wanna hear it, Boone. You put your mother through hell this afternoon. You lay down like the doctor said, and you be quiet now.”

Boone glanced over at me, and my gaze quickly darted down to the dirty floor. I couldn’t look into his eyes. I don’t think I can look into his eyes ever again.

At least, not until next week.

I didn’t know what to do with my arms and legs, so I held my breath and stayed close to the door. I don’t mind disappointing Dad so much; matter of fact, I think I do so all the time, but Johan, that’s different.

Finally Mrs. Lund spoke to me. “Go home, Derek. I don’t blame you for what happened. I know my sons. When they get an idea in their thick skulls, no one can change their minds.” She stared Boone right in the face. “One of them is an adrenaline junky,” she said, then her eyes went like a poisonous dart, from Boone’s face to Nick’s. “And this one over here is a beautiful liar.”

No. Nick wasn’t a liar. He was just trying to protect Boone, that was all. My cheeks burned, but all I could do was bite down on my lower lip.

Nick’s nostrils flared. He looked like a bull trying not to lunge at the red flag. His cheeks had darkened, and for a second, I thought he was going to throw something at his mom, but instead, he threw his hands up and bolted out of the room. “f**k this,” he snarled.

“Nicolai!” Johan yelled. “Language!”

Nick didn’t slow down. And for some reason, I couldn’t stop myself from chasing after him. I saw the back of his head as he shoved open the door to the staircase, and I followed. I heard him running down the stairwell. His steps were heavy and quick. I skid down those stairs, nearly breaking my neck at every landing, and caught up to him on the first floor.

I flinched, drawing back a little. Nick was throwing punches in the air, cursing in Norwegian. His hair had come undone, and with every hook he swung, it whipped his face. He was almost breaking a sweat, fighting this invisible person.

Who could it be?

Then he dropped his muscular arms to his side and stopped, leaning his forehead to the wall. “Sick of it,” he said, under his breath.

I opened my mouth, but nothing but a small noise crawled out.

Nick turned around and leaned back on the wall, breathing hard and fast through the nose, staring straight ahead. Straight through me. “I need to get out from under her.”

I think he meant Mrs. Lund, but I didn’t dare ask.

He ran his fingers through his blond hair and tied it back again. “Well, shit.” The light flicked on inside his eyes. “Better go back up there before my dad comes down here looking for me.”

I nodded, chewing on my lip.

Then, for some odd reason, Nick laughed. Not a big laugh, just a small, dry chuckle. His gaze moved over my lips like they were tasting a candy cane. “Man,” he whispered. “You sure don’t say much, O’Reilly.”

I shook my head from side to side. The tone of his voice had made my p***s jump inside my pants.

Nick squinted. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “I like it.” Then he ran up the stairs, leaving me to stare at the blank wall with my mouth open.