[ Mar's POV ]
It's been a year since my little Alex jumped from the window, and it has been a fight to keep him alive.
The broken bones have long since healed, but he is weak. Very weak.
Where he used to play like a normal, energetic child, he can now barely sit up by himself. He sleeps most of the day, and we constantly keep him connected to a heart rate monitor, because his heart can and will stop beating at any moment.
When he is awake, we mostly talk. I read him stories about knights and heroes, to entertain him, but he can't do much more. I haven't even started revalidation on him yet, because he simply doesn't have the strength to stay upright. I once found him, next to his bed. He'd been bored and wanted to play like he used to, but had lost strength once his feet touched the ground.
I am standing at the foot end of his hospital bed, watching him sleep.
As I stand there, I let my mind wander. A peculiar request came in today from a certain Sheikh Ahmed Al-Mansour. Not specifically to me, but my company, Bright inc.. Apparently, Mr. Al-Mansour's son is suffering from a severe case of narcolepsy and offered to pay a considerable sum (even for my standards) for treating his son.
But this whole request smells funny… And when I say "funny", I actually mean that it smell as if someone stepped in dogshit. Why? Well, three reasons:
1. I am not a medical doctor. I can reanimate my son, sew up cuts in human flesh and set bones, but I wouldn't know the first thing about healing a chronic medical condition. I mean… I could if I researched it a little. But I don't really feel like it at the moment. Especially with Alex being in the weak state that he is.
2. Alex isn't exactly human, I still have no clue what kind off effect the energy he naturally radiates will have on the human beings around him, let alone on a young child. (Even though his current energy levels are the lowest I have seen on him since his birth.)
And 3. Mr. Al-Mansour claims that he received Alex's name from a medium, when he asked her for a way to cure his boy.
It's just all so suspicious that I have the urge to politely decline Mr. Al-Mansour's very generous offer and never think about it again. But every time I start writing a letter, or start dialing the man's phone number, not just the hackles at the nape of my neck stand on edge, I can feel shivers run up and down my whole back!
Aurora thought me not to ignore these subconscious signals my body gives me. But now I just don't know what to do anymore.
"Dad?" I hear a voice croak sleepily from the bed. When I look up, I see Alex staring at me with furrowed brows.
"What's wrong, Buddy?" I ask as I walk to the side of his bed. Alex follows me with his eyes, but makes no effort to sit up like he usually does. He doesn't seem fully awake just yet. As if to proof my point, he yawns widely and I find myself stifling a yawn of my own.
"That's what I was going to ask," he says as he lazily closes his eyes again.
"Hmm? What was?"
He doesn't answer for a few heartbeats and I wonder if he fell asleep again, but then he says: "What's wrong, Dad?"
I chuckle.
"Nothing much, Buddy. I'm just wondering what to do about this kid with the eternal sleeping disease." I may have developed the habit of using Alex as a sounding board to help me think.
But to my surprise, Alex looks up at me brightly and laughs: "Oh! So, Johny is finally here? Good. I was starting to get bored."
During the last sentence, Alex contently closed his eyes and turned to his side to fall deeply asleep again. I can already hear his breath evening out.
I stare at him flabbergasted.
"Who's Johny?" I find myself wondering out loud. If I'm not mistaken, the name of Mr. Al-Mansour's son is Hussam. Where did Alex get the name Johny?
I shrug once and shake my head.
This time, there are no shivers running up and down my spine as I call Mr. Al-Mansour.
"Yes, hello! Am I speaking with Sheikh Ahmed Al-Mansour? I would like to let him know that Bright inc. will accept his request to treat his son's Narcolepsy."
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One week and a contract later, I am giving the Sheikh and his son a tour of the premise.
There are two places that I can't show him; Hussam's room, and Alex.
I'm unsure that introducing them to Alex is a good idea. And I haven't decided yet if Hussam's room should be close to Alex's or as far from it as it can be.
But apparently, that choice wasn't up to me. Little Hussam, who had been sleeping in a wheelchair for most of the tour of the hospital, woke up when we reached Alex's room. He suddenly pointed and told his dad to go that way. I was so flabbergasted that the child had woken up, that I didn't notice that they were headed to Alex's room, until they had opened the door.
"Wait, where are you going?!" I call out and Mr. Al-Mansour stops and turns to look at me, but the little boy rolled the wheelchair without a doubt in the world into Alex's bedroom.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Alex, to my surprise, was awake and sitting up, and was observing the situation with eyes full of marvel.
"You must be Alex! You can call me Johny!" Hussam said with the heaviest Arabic accent I have ever heard. His dad immediately started scolding the child. From the few words of Arabic that I know, I think he was scolding his son for telling nonsense and that he should introduce himself properly. But before the child could do so, Alex laughed one of his angelic smiles, took hold of Hussam's hand and said: "It's so nice to meet you, Johny! I'm sure we'll be good friends."
I wish I could see the child's face from where I was standing, but I couldn't. I can only imagine that it was somewhere between starstruck and awkward, because the child had missed his chance to tell Alex his real name.
Ok, it's decided. I'll give Hussam a room next to Alex's.
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About a year and a half flew by. Hussam and Alex have become fast friends in the past year and the two seem to have a positive influence on each other.
"Alex, time for your checkups," I say as I walk into Alex's room and find Hussam next to Alex in his bed. Alex is holding the controller of a Nintendo gaming console that is hooked up to the monitor in the room. There used to be only a heart-rate monitor in the room, but the boys had me install a monitor so they could play games together.
It had started with a gameboy, which apparently I wasn't allowed to call a Game Boy anymore, because now it was called a Nintendo DS…
I must admit, games have been around for a long time, but I've never been interested in them. It had never even occurred to me to buy any form of console to entertain Alex. But Hussam had showed Alex his Game Boy only once and he'd been hooked.
"Johny! Give me your controller! Mine ran out of battery again!" Alex says as he puts his controller aside and swipes the one Hussam is holding right from under his nose.
"Hey! I was still playing with that! And I was winning too! Why do you always do this," I watch as Hussam reaches for the controller that Alex is holding now, but Alex swiftly moves it out of Hussam's reach.
Hussam clicks his tongue at Alex.
"And I have told you time and time again not to call me Johny! My name is Johny! No!!! J-… Jo- … O, for crying out loud!"
Alex snickers at this. You know, it's really strange. For some reason, Hussam can't tell Alex his real name. They've had this conversation hundreds of times before, but he simply can't. At first, Alex had gotten really confused by what Hussam was saying, so I explained to him that the boy he knew as Johny, his given name was actually Hussam. Since then, Alex had been practically bullying Hussam with the matter.
"Yes, yes. That's what you've told me over and over again. I have to call you Johny," Alex says cheekily as he avoids another of Hussam's attempts to get the controller back. "Now I think it is about time you go to sleep."
As Alex said it, Hussam's eyes actually started looking heavy and his arm reaching out towards the controller started going limp.
"I don't want to!" Hussam mumbles in a last attempt to stay awake, but soon after, he is sound asleep.
I watch as Alex turns to him and pats him on the head.
"Good boy," he says and turns his attention back to the screen.
"Fuck off!" Hussam curses in his sleep, which makes Alex chuckle. Then he turns to me.
"O, dad? Can you help me? Johny always gets very heavy when he falls asleep."
"Sure, Buddy. I'll move him back to his own room," I say as I gather Hussam in my arms and carefully put him back in his own bed.
"How are you feeling today? You seem energetic?" I ask once I step back into the room.
"Yes! I feel good! Good enough to stand even," Alex says as he turns of the Wii and puts the controllers in their chargers.
"Really? Come on, let's try it then," I say as I motion for Alex to come and sit at the edge of the bed and reach my hands out for him to hold. Alex obliges, sits at the edge of his bed, puts his feet on the ground and grabs my hands.
He looks really nervous, but does push off of the bed and stands.
"You're doing it!" I say, unable to hide the proud note from my voice.
"I am!" Alex says happily. I move my arms around a little to test his balance. It's too soon to ask him to stand on his own, but perhaps, he can take a step with my help.
"Do you think you can take a step?" I ask. Alex nods fervently, but doesn't say anything. Beads of sweat are already appearing on his brow. Even standing asks so much effort, but he does take a step. And another one.
In that moment, the door swings open, and Hussam enters the room, but he freezes in his steps when he sees Alex.
"You are standing," he states, apparently unsure if it's a good or a bad thing.
"And you are awake! Your naps are getting shorter," Alex states happily.
"Yes, both of you are getting better," I say. "I think it is time for you to start rehabilitation. I'll shedule a session with the physiotherapist tomorrow. Things are finally looking up! Who knows, perhaps you'll both be discharged from from the hospital within the year!"