Chapter II

We ate our medicine as Mrs Johnson advised. She came with a tray full of syringes at 8 o'clock. Janet gasped when she saw the tray.

"Don't worry, this isn't for you," said Mrs Johnson. She left after giving the injection.

We were waiting for Alexie outside his room to go for a walk before dinner. "Hey, Alexie" I called from outside. He did not answer at once. I called again.

"I am not coming" he called back without opening the door. His voice was trembling when he said. Surely he was in pain. We rushed to call Mrs Johnson.

"Mrs Johnson, quick, Alexie is not feeling well." We told her breathlessly.

"WHAT," she said. She ran to get painkillers and some syringes. We rushed to his room. Dr Smith was already in his room. His face was frightened. He called orders and many nurses came running with carts. We got a small peek inside the room and saw Alexie laying on the floor, unconscious. Janet clutched my arm tight. I felt dizzy. This was not possible. My heart began to race. A nurse came running towards us, "You two are not supposed to be here. Off to your room. Quick," she said hurriedly.

"But what happened to him?" Janet asked.

"We are going to do his surgery tonight," She said dragging us to our room.

"Don't come out until Mrs Johnson arrives. Call if you need anything" she said pointing the telephone near our bed. We nodded furiously. She left after closing the door.

"This isn't right. This isn't right" Janet was murmuring to herself. She looked at me. There were tears in her eyes. I went near her and hugged her.

"We shouldn't let him be alone" she moaned. I kept my fingers crossed. Tears were rolling down my cheeks.

"I know. We will never let him be alone. He will survive this." I whispered. We waited for so long. Alas, Mrs Johnson came in. We asked her a hundred questions at once.

"Slow down, he is having a five-hour surgery," she said. " He will be okay. You can see him tomorrow." It took hours to console Janet. We ate dinner without Alexie. Mrs Johnson brought us back to our room. Our dad was waiting inside. He was smiling. It vanished when he saw our tear-stained faces. We sat in silence while Mrs Johnson explained to him.

"He will be fine, dears," said dad. "Go to sleep now." He kissed our forehead and left for his night shift.

We lay in the dark. I turned to check on Janet. She was awake, staring outside the window. I wasn't feeling sleepy at all. I hoped to see him again. I tried to sleep but all I could see was Alexie laying unconscious on the floor. I stood awake for hours until some point Janet had closed her eyes, not sure if she was asleep. I closed my eyes and slumbered.

The next morning I woke up with high hopes. Janet was waiting impatiently for Mrs Johnson to deliver us the news.

The door banged open and Mrs Johnson came with tears in her eyes. I froze. She came hurtling towards us and hugged us tightly.

"The surgery was a success. He is alive. You can meet him." She said wiping her tears. Our faces broke into huge grins.

"He was transferred to his room this morning." Mrs Johnson said. Without another word, we broke into a run. Dr Smith was standing outside. He was pleased with himself. Many experts were congratulating him. He spotted us and called us near.

"He is resting now. But you can sit with him. Do not wake him up. Understand?" He said. "Yes, doctor" we replied in unison.

We went inside. We were entering his room for the first time. I was surprised to say that there wasn't a single book in his room. His room was a mess. But he maintained his guitar properly. I never knew he played the guitar. I have never seen him playing it. He had made some funny sketches and cartoons. It was laying all around the floor. There were some postcards with pictures of hill stations on them. maybe that was sent by his father? I thought. Janet was staring at one of the sketches which had him singing with his dad gripping a guitar in his little hands. Janet was smiling.

He was asleep. I sat near him on a chair. Janet sat near his leg at the edge of the bed like he used to sit at our bed. The room felt o I stood up and opened the windows. The room was suddenly bright. I sat down back in the chair. I stared at his face. The only movement in him was his surging chest as he breathed.

The door opened slowly and Alexie's mother came in. "Morning, Mrs Davis," we said quietly. She was a plump woman with blonde hair. Alexie had got his dad's brown hair. She wasn't happy to see us. She stared at us for a second and placed all the medicines and bottles she brought on the table and left the room without another word.

"Rud, an I d Janet.

"It doesn't matter," I said rolling my eyes.

He'd neatly placed his left hand on his abdomen. I jumped when his left hand hit the bed. His toes made slight movements, and at last, he opened his eyes. He looked at me with confusion. Then he turned his head slightly to look at Janet. She gave him an encouraging smile. For a moment I thought he lost his memory, I was about to scream when Alexie smiled back at Janet. Janet let out a long sigh.

"Can't say I wasn't expecting you both?" he said at last. His voice is barely audible.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Grand," he said smiling. We laughed at this.

"Did mum come to see me at all?" he asked.

Janet explained what happened when his mother came in.

"I told you she does not love me," he said getting ready for an argument.

"But we do love you" Janet consoled before he could say any further because she knew he wants to rest and a peaceful mind. She looked embarrassed after saying that. I was surprised to see a pink tinge on Alexie's cheek. I cleared my throat loudly. "I mean- um- Mrs Johnson and um- other doctors" Janet sputtered. We all started laughing. Alexie had that pink tinge on his cheek for the rest of the day.

It took five days for Alexie to start walking again. We visited him every morning and evening. We were in his room, he was sitting on his bed, Janet was sitting beside, their shoulders barely touching. I was searching through his drawings when I asked him about the guitar.

"It was my dads, he used to play it," said Alexie. "He wanted to become a music artist. But my mum didn't want to marry a musician. She hated music. But my dad loved my mum as he loved music. He lived as she wished. I will never believe she loved him. My dad would write songs about how pure her heart was." He paused. "She didn't have a heart. Why would my dad leave us? I received some postcards after he left. But he stopped sending it years ago. And he is coming to see me next month. Why is he coming now?" Did he ask? "I don't know if I should be angry or happy."

"Aren't you happy that he is coming?" I asked.

"Yes," he said quickly. "But still I don't understand, is he coming for my birthday or to say 'goodbye' forever? I just want to be loved, cared." he ended. Janet went red. She laid her head on his shoulder. He rested his head on hers.

I was smiling to myself. What am I seeing? I stared at them with glee. I looked away shortly. "Can you play it for us?" I asked without looking at him. He did not respond. I turned to face him, he was staring at the guitar. Janet gave him a small nudge.

"Give it here," he said to me. I passed him the guitar. He took it from me and placed it between his right hand and his chest. He gracefully gripped the head of the guitar with his left arm.

The first few notes were wobbly, but then he got control of it. He found the melody, a simple song, one of the first he'd learned from his dad. When he'd finished, Janet said, "Play something cheerful." So he played an old Scottish reel and then a French sea shanty that was better suited to the string notes. He played every song that came into his head, but nothing mournful, nothing sad. Janet didn't speak, though occasionally, I saw her tap her toe to the music, and her lips would move as if she knew the words. At last, he placed the guitar down in his lap.

We were silent for a long time. The music still ringing in my ears. I wished for it to continue forever.