Chapter 6: Sympathy
Mikey Appleton: January 12th, 1983
I drive myself to the hospital. I got the call from the doctor just last night, my dad is having surgery for his liver. I’m lucky I even somehow got the courage to tell my boss that I’ll have to have the day, well more so night, off work. Wow… I really haven’t been back in my home town in quite a while. I mean, the city isn’t that bad… I just wish it didn’t rain most of the time, or that gray was the color of choice. But my hometown… well it’s not really a place I have the best memories of anyways… Especially that my only reason for returning is just to see one of the causes of my stained view of the little town. Well, I mean this car isn’t that nice… not as good as the old Chevy 150, cause they know I wouldn’t be able to inherit that car. But hey, I’m just content with my car, as beat up and used I bought it for, it gets me from Point A to Point B reliably. Well…I’m at it again, just thinking about my thoughts again as the speakers and stereo are a little wack.
I arrive at the hospital, I’ll say like a few minutes away from my old elementary school. I enter and immediately try to build up my confidence to ask the receptionist who I’m here to see. Well, it must be easy; just ask I’m here to see Dennis Appleton. I think so… I wait around until the receptionist notices me.
“Uh sir,” She inquires, “Who are you here to see?”
“O-Oh! U-Uh… Den-Denis Appleton…” I stutter out, being caught off guard.
“Just right this way, it’s room 352.” She replies, pointing to the hallway to the right of me. I follow the numbers by the sign next to the doors, making sure to avoid all the doctors rolling people on the stretchers; family members both grieving and standing with a face of mixed emotions, just like me receiving the news of how my father got here. I wonder to myself, what is the story of everyone I’m seeing walking to each of these Deluxe rooms. How to relate in any case to the people in the rooms? What about the doctors spending years just to do their professions? Eh, even if it doesn’t really matter to wonder about small things like that… It’s just interesting to think about something or someone you see and wonder about how their entire life story led up to that moment.
I arrive at Room 352, it’s like the other rooms I’ve seen looking through the small opening of doors. It’s titled, being mostly white with a stripe of blue around the height of my stomach; and gray on the floor. In the top right corner from where I’m standing is the small TV. I always wondered why they placed it in front of where it’ll get the most glare from the sun. Oh well, I don’t really design the rooms here. I wait around for the doctor to arrive and break down the details of what happened, should really be any sec-
“Good morning Mikey.” The doctor says, walking in.
“O-Oh Hi!” I reply, “U-Uh, s-so… What’s t-the s-situation with my fa-father?”
“The procedure went well, we were successfully able to take the tumor off his liver. He’s still asleep at the moment, he might wake up in around a couple minutes or so.”
“T-That’s… g-g-good…”
“So, do you have any other questions?”
“U-Uh… I d-don’t know if y-your the right per-person for this… But w-where’s my mom?”
“She was here right before the surgery happened, stayed until around 10 minutes after it ended. She said she was going to get some groceries.”
“A-Ah a-alright… sounds g-good…”
The doctor promptly leaves the room, leaving me alone; with my dad on the stretcher. It’s silent, minus the heart rate monitor’s beeps and the sounds from the hallway closeby. I sigh thinking about my mom, are you sure getting some “groceries” isn’t just code to get more alcohol? Eh, even after being highly advised against it. she still has to slip in a drink. I guess she just can’t live without getting her perfume. Well, I think there’s something else more important to face: My dad. I begin to observe him, laying on the bed; he still hasn’t woken up yet. I continue to look at him, still wondering how to feel about him. After all, he’s the part of the reason why my life is crap; he’s the reason why I stutter and I’m too shy to even ask a waitress for coffee. And yet… I still can’t help but tear up and feel bad for him.
I just don’t know why I feel bad for the man that’s abused me: hit me, yelled at me, put me down anyway possible, pointed out my weaknesses. I don’t even know why I decided to come back to Greenwood, I literally have reasons to justify not returning. Why would I exactly go back to see my heartless parents, one who clearly showed no sign of affection towards their son? Ones who thought it was ok to not even support him at all in life until it was too late as he was saved from their grasp. Eh I wouldn’t even know… This is just stupid, it doesn’t matter at all… It doesn’t matter at all… it doesn’t mat-
I begin to quietly tear up, feeling the singular tear run down my cheek. I just can’t really help myself, at the end of the day; Dennis and Josephine Appleton are still my parents. Even if I wasn’t supposed to be made on a fateful day in 1954, they’re still the reason why I exist anyways. I continue to tear up, moving to right beside the heart rate monitor to place my hand in my dad’s hand.
I don’t know… In some ways, learning about their life before me from Alice and Johannes sorta ties the strings together. I heard about their relationship, so happy together… Always happy to support one another and all that, I’ve personally seen that; how excited they’ll greet each other during breakfast… Pouring the pepper into their eggs, their romance nights watching tv… I sigh, oh well… maybe in some other world I would be included… not shunned in the dungeon of the basement, or in the confines of my room…
Just as I pondered about the past, I suddenly returned to the present. My dad finally has woken up.