Davis took a moment to get his bearings on the sidewalk and set course for King Street Station. The train station was about a half-mile away and, he figured, it was the best place to stow his bag while at the wedding. This afforded him the opportunity to get a bite to eat. There was also the luxury of getting away from the church. Catching a car at the train station meant he wouldn't be waiting around.
He saw the looks and heard the whispers of his family at the ceremony. The last thing he wanted was to get caught in small talk with an Aunt Denise or an Uncle Eric. That was his prime reason to skip the reception. Adding alcohol would only embolden relatives to tell Davis what they really thought.
Once at the train station, he gave a passing glance at the departures board. He was forced to pause when he saw a Portland train leaving in less than 90 minutes.
He didn’t have to go through with this.
He could be back in Portland that night.
Kathryn would understand, he thought.
The looks, the terse interaction with his older brother. Davis knew why he was here, why he’d been given an invitation after 13 years of nothing. He had something that they needed and a day at a wedding was a small price to pay to save their brother.
The negativity coursing through his mind made him nauseous.
He took deep breaths and achieved a moment of clarity. The doubt drained away. He did what he knew he had to do. Above all else, it was what he needed to do for himself.
Nausea receded and he started to get hungry. He retrieved his bag and made a beeline for a small sandwich shop he’d passed on his way into the station.
A bologna sandwich hit the spot. He was just wiping the last bread crumbs from his mouth with a napkin when his car pull up outside. He tossed his wrapper in the garbage and slid into the back seat to begin the short journey to the hospital.
Very little weighed on his mind on the drive and as they pulled up outside the main entrance of the building,
Davis was at peace in the car. He was in a meditative state, focusing on the Space Needle for much of the drive. When he arrived, he grabbed his bag and thanked the driver. He then exited the car looking for the correct entrance.
A sign for non-emergency admissions was up ahead and he followed the arrows. A short time later he arrived at the front desk and was greeted by a smiling older woman seated behind the desk.
“Good afternoon. What can I do for you today?” she offered.
“I’m checking in. My last name is Archer. First name Davis.”
“Okay, Mr. Archer. Can I confirm your date of birth?”
“Five-25-1995.”
Davis answered some questions and signed some waivers to complete the check-in process.
“Thank you. Have a seat over there,” she said motioning to the waiting area on his right, “someone will be out for you soon.”
Davis took a seat and leaned forward with his face in his hands. For the first time, the risks of the procedure entered his mind. Once again, he was able to narrow his focus past his concerns. He knew what he had to do. Worrying would not help. He did acknowledge how much it sucked he'd quit smoking ahead of the procedure. He also thought better of bringing anti-anxiety medication with him. He’d survived this long on meditative breathing and chewing gum. It would have to do for a few more days.
About 10 minutes after he took his seat, large doors opened and a small woman in nurse’s scrubs called out, “Davis.”
“That’s me,” he responded, raising his hand and grabbing his bag. He followed her through the doors. After a weight measurement, they navigated a short maze of hallways.
Davis stopped.
“Ummm…,” he said, nervously. “Can I stop by and see Derrick?”
“Derrick?” the nurse responded, confused.
“The recipient of my kidney? I haven’t talked to him in a while, and I think I should beforehand.”
“Certainly, sorry. I didn’t connect the dots. We should be able to swing by." She looked in the distance and added, "Wait here. I'll go confirm he can receive visitors and also get his room number.”
Davis remained in the middle of a random hallway as the nurse disappeared around the corner. He looked around and found himself reading a poster about the signs of a heart attack. The bit about the left arm pain surprised him. As he finished with the poster, the nurse seemingly materialized from thin air next to him.
“Sorry for the delay. There is no problem. His room is right down this way.”
They had been standing surprisingly close to Derrick’s room. After they took the next left, the room was the second door on the right. The nurse gestured to the room and let Davis know where she would be when he was ready to go to his room.
He took a deep breath and inched closer to the room. He craned his neck to the left to see inside the room at the earliest possible moment. In time, he found himself standing in the doorway completely unnoticed. Derrick was watching TV in the other corner, oblivious to his brother’s presence.
Davis cleared his throat performatively and Derrick turned his head towards the door.
“Deuce,” Derrick said groggily as he attempted to sit up in his bed a bit. “You came. Jenna said you would, but I wasn't so sure.”
Derrick offered a smile to his twin. They were once. Now, if you didn't know, they looked like strangers with an uncanny resemblance.
The smile was met with an uncracked look of nervousness and confusion. Davis was starting to wonder if he made the right choice visiting his brother. He was also doubting his decision to come back to Seattle at all.
The silence linger and became increasingly awkward. Derrick's smile receded and became an affirmative grin.
“You look good,” Derrick started. “Not as good as this, obviously,” he added, gesturing to his appearance and chuckling to himself.
The joke did little to soften the increasing tension in the room.
Derrick continued, “To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect after...” he let out a deep sigh and let his sentence trail off.
Davis remained stoic and in the doorway. His certainty about visiting continued wasting away. He didn’t even know what to say and the thought of saying nothing was sounding better and better by the moment. He didn't want to make a bold statement with his presence and silence. But, leaving now would do little to make this awkward situation worse.
He started to turn away to leave. Derrick looked at his brother in bewilderment and confusion. Davis turned back and started to talk.
“I’m not here for you. I’m not here for them,” Davis started. He gestured in a way that meant to signify their siblings, in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’m here because it’s the right thing to do.”
He watched his brother absorb what he said, but felt he wasn’t getting the response he wanted. Before he could give it a second thought, he blurted out his next point.
“I don’t care about you. I don’t care about A.J. I don’t care about our parents. Every one of you abandoned me. For whatever reason, you each just accepted, what, that I was a killer? And you all cut me loose. Whatever the reason—fear, embarrassment—just canceled out everything you knew about me. Your brother.”
Derrick had been awestruck to this point but shook out of his trance at this last part. Before he could interject, Davis continued.
“You gave up on me. I was a kid, and you all wrote me off. And in 13 years—nothing. I don’t know why I was so easy to discard for you people. Mom, dad, A.J., you. You all abandoned me: A 13-year-old, given up with no hope to change or even be a part of your family.”
“We abandoned you?!? You abandoned me!” Derrick interjected, wincing at the pain from the yelling. “You did this to yourself. You had to pay the price for what you did. All this time later, you act like you are the victim. Tim was the victim.”
Davis was silent, stewing and grinding his teeth at the response. He didn’t know what to say.
“Mom and dad,” Derrick continued, “they made a hard decision. I’m not saying I agreed with it, but they had three other kids to think of. They needed to protect us and start a new life for us. They did what they had to do.”
Davis shook his head disappointedly.
“What if I didn’t do it? What if it looked bad? And not one person in my family questioned it? Everyone was willing to accept I was a killer beyond help. No hesitation. I was 13! I was left to wonder what I'd done in my short life that everyone he loved so easily believed he was a lost cause.”
The brothers stared silently for a minute before Davis continued.
“All these years later, whether I did it or not doesn’t matter,” he continued. “It stopped mattering pretty a long time ago. It’s what happened afterward that matters more.”
Davis exhaled deeply as if a weight was off his shoulders and turned to leave. Before crossing the threshold, he stopped and let out another defeated sigh. He turned back one last time.
“I’m here because it’s the right thing to do. I’m not going to let you die. I shouldn’t have come in here, though. Pretend I didn't. This is an anonymous donation from a stranger. Leave me out of it and forget you saw me. I never want to see you again.”
With that, he left.
Derrick stared at the empty doorway. He was processing the encounter with his estranged brother. It was an unpleasant experience, but he’d written his brother out of his life a long time ago.
Derrick indignantly let out a deep breath to cleanse himself of the experience. He then lowered his position in bed and reached for his headphones. He grabbed his phone, selected a music playlist, and closed his eyes for a nap.
Once in the hallway, Davis’ resolve did not waver. If nothing else, it would prove he was never going to become the person his family thought he would become. Either way, this would be closure. He’d have nothing else to give this family and there would be no need for them to contact him again.
There was an ease in his gait as he followed the hallway until it opened into the floor’s large foyer. He found his nurse leaning against the nurse’s station talking to a colleague. When he caught her eye, she lit up.
“All good, then?” she said brightly, feeling as though she helped orchestrate a touching moment. “Let’s get you situated.”
He was comforted by her enthusiasm. She was oblivious to the conversation that just occurred and this comforted Davis.
“Are you and Derrick related?” asked the seated nurse, noticing a resemblance with their patient. “Cousins?”
“Brothers,” Davis responded. He looked around hoping to hide his irritation with the line of questions. “Twin brother, actually. I changed my name a few years back.”
Both nurses nodded with interest and motioned goodbye to each other.
“Actually, where is my room?” he stopped and asked, “Y’know, in relation to here,” he continued, gesturing to where they were standing.
“Unfortunately, you are pretty far away from your brother because of how things shook out. The rooms were assigned yesterday. But I can look for something closer if you’d like.”
“No,” he asserted. “That works. I was,” he paused and looked back, “just asking.”
He offered an unoffended smile and his nurse got them on their way. Despite the seemingly circuitous route to get to this point, it was a straight shot to his room. He would be in an adjacent hallway, but at the opposite end.
When they reached the room, the nurse got him situated. He changed and laid down to rest. It was still very early, so he asked the nurse about sleep aids. The surgery was first thing in the morning and he felt like the day had already been three days long. She said she’d check. He fell asleep before she returned.