Mother's Child, page 23
Chapter Thirteen
Fighting for Ernie
On Thursday morning, Ernie was up early and dressed for school. I was the last one down, the result of my extra hours of worried reading. Even Elsie managed to get an early start without grumbling.
When I entered the kitchen, Tim was at the counter making coffee. Ernie was sitting at the kitchen table with his back to me, across from Elsie. I could see that he was wearing a pair of slightly faded blue jeans topped with a bright blue cardigan sweater with the collar of a gray cotton shirt accenting the back of his neck. He looked very preppy I thought to myself and I was amazed that he was so coordinated and ready to go.
But when he turned around to face me, I was shocked. He looked so very pale.
“Ernie, I think maybe you should stay home today.”,” I said. I came around in front to feel his forehead with the palm of my hand.
Ernie backed away from my touch and pushed my hand away. “I’m fine Mom,” he said. “Just hungry.”
“You look really pale honey. Tim, don’t you think he looks really pale?”
Tim moved his head around to look at Ernie. Before Tim could answer, Elsie spoke up in Ernie’s defense.
“Oh, he just looks that way ‘cause the sweater is so bright. That color makes everyone look pale.”
“Yeah, that is a pretty bright blue. He looks normal to me. I mean you know he always looks a little pale.” Tim said before he turned back to the coffee maker.
“Well, how do you feel Ernie? Are you too tired to go to school today? I wasn’t completely convinced.
“I feel good, Mom.” Ernie was quick to reply.
“Well, then why haven’t you finished your cereal?”
“Oh, that’s his second bowl, Mom. But umm I guess he wasn’t that hungry. So, nice outfit he’s wearing though right Mom?” Elsie said jumping to Ernie’s defense once again, quickly changing the subject.
“Umm yeah,” I said and smiled at Ernie. “Yeah you look very preppy.”
“I picked it out,” Elsie bragged, sporting a big grin.
All through the short conversation, Ernie looked at Elsie for answers while he pushed back the cereal in his bowl to get at a spoonful of milk, which he slurped. That should have been a hint to me that something was not right.
It became obvious to me that Ernie and Elsie had spent the morning getting him ready and rehearsing his story. She must have seen how pale he was. Or maybe he had a vomiting fit that morning that Elsie witnessed. Ernie probably begged her not to tell because he wanted so much to go to school again. Because she didn’t want to disappoint her little buddy, she came up with the “dressing to impress Mom” idea. The other parts were just her natural quick thinking. It worked because I gave in and didn’t pursue the school issue any further.
“Okay Ernie,” I relented. “Half day again. BUT if you feel sick at all you go to the nurse’s office and have her call me and I will come get you. Okay?”
“K Mom,” Ernie answered without looking up from his bowl.
Tim grew impatient with the automatic coffee maker and moved the glass pot aside to slip his cup under the liquid flowing from the machine. Once his cup was filled, he returned the pot to its place and joined Elsie and Ernie at the table. I then took my turn being annoyed with how slow the coffee was entering the pot. I repeated Tim’s method with my own cup and sat across from him at the table.
“Hey buddy. Look at me.” Tim told Ernie. But he got no response. “Ernie, look at me, I want to see how you look. Or you can just stay home I guess.” Tim matter-of-factly threatened.
Ernie looked up from his bowl of now mushy cereal and stuck his tongue out at Tim. Tim didn’t respond. Ernie retracted his tongue and gave his dad a big, cheesy smile.
“Yup. He looks normal to me. That’s my boy!” Tim quipped.
Elsie, who was anxious to see if Ernie would pass this test, gave her brother a big grin, then popped up from the table.
“Bro, we have to go. The bus will be at the corner in like five minutes.”
Elsie ran around the table, grabbed her brother by the arm and practically dragged him toward the front door.
“Wait! Elsie, I was going to drive Ernie to school,” I shouted at their backs as they high-tailed it to the front door.
“It’s okay, Mom. I got this. We’re going to ride the bus together.” Elsie shot back before she whisked Ernie out the door.
Elsie rarely took the bus. She usually rode her bike to Beamer’s house and then they would ride on to school together. From there it was only about two miles to their school; Ernie’s school was more like five miles but on the same bus route.
I wondered if she was taking the bus because of what Beamer had said and how he had treated her. Although I didn’t really want Ernie going to school without me, he was with Elsie and…and sometimes as a parent you have to give in to some things. Every little sequence with your kids can’t be a trial. Sometimes, you just have to let them be.
***
After Tim left for work, I was by myself with my thoughts. The more I went over the events with Elsie and Beamer, Ginny’s odd behavior on the phone with me, and the meeting Ernie had to endure in his principal’s office, the more I was certain that all these things were related and not a strange coincidence.
Although I had no proof, my intuition kept nagging me that Ruth was somehow connected to all of it. I felt better knowing Tim was going to contact his lawyer client for any background advice on how we should approach the hospital and what our options might be if Ruth was at the root of our perceived problems.
Until I had some answers to those questions, I decided to put off confronting Ginny.
I decided to distract myself by grocery shopping. I hoped the banality of picking out the best apples and scanning shelves for which toilet paper was on sale might replace the conspiracy theory that was taking shape in my mind.
It took me longer than normal time to finish shopping. I kept stopping mid-aisle, staring blankly at rows of canned soup and at the overwhelming number of yogurt options. I kept running the conspiracy through my head over and over, slightly varying the storyline but never the villain. I bruised more than one apple before I realized I failed at this multi-tasking attempt.
It was after 11 when I finally left the store with my cart full of grocery bags. Tim would be home within an hour. We would soon be on our way to getting answers.
I had to get home and put the groceries away and then sit for bit to gather my thoughts and shape my questions for the meeting at school and the hospital; I didn’t want to leave either place wishing I had remembered to ask something I just thought of. And I needed a few minutes to bury my distaste of Ruth and to keep it in check before I spoke to her. I would need calm to get my questions answered. Tim would likely have his own questions as well, so I thought it would be good to take some time before the meetings to share our questions and approach to show a united front.
As I loaded my bags into the back of my Jeep, I had a brief moment of panic: I wasn’t exactly certain what groceries had ended up in my bags. I got that feeling you get when you are certain you left something behind but can’t remember what.
But, I had five full bags of food so I figured that if I forgot something, it couldn’t be that important. The Gallagher’s weren’t going to be deprived from leaving it behind. I shrugged my shoulders, closed the trunk and got into my car.
I slid my key into the ignition and my phone rang. The Caller ID showed that it was Ernie’s principal. I froze for a few seconds and wondered if she was calling to set up her own meeting showdown with Tim and me? Or worse, to tell me that something had happened to Ernie.
“Hello?” I answered with trepidation.
“Hi June. This is principal Patterson I’m afraid Ernie had an…episode…and we had to call an ambulance to take him to the hospital.”
My heart stopped.
“An episode? What kind of an episode? What do you mean? Is he okay? Where is he?” Panicked, I rambled.
“I don’t know, he collapsed again at recess and he didn’t wake up, that’s all I know. The paramedics took him.” She answered with little emotion.
“Paramedics…where? What hospital?” I asked fearing what the answer might be.
“Brinker.”
“Brinker? Oh my God no. I told you he can never go back there. He has to go to University. Why the hell did you send him to Brinker?” I was apoplectic.
“I’m sorry June. But that is where we were told to send him. His case is with Brinker child services there. And besides, that is where the ambulance company is engaged from.”
“WHAT? What do you mean his case is there? Goddamit!” I shrieked and threw the phone down on the seat next to me, it bounced to the floor and disconnected the call. My worst fears were coming true. My Ernie was sick again, and he was going to Ruth.
I cursed and cried for several moments before fetching the phone from the floor. I wiped my tears and tried to regain my composure before I called Tim. He answered on the third ring.
“Hey honey. I am just going to make a quick client call and then I’m heading out,” Tim explained.
“No. No, Tim. They took him. Ruth has him and he’s sick again. We have to go now!” I tried to speak quickly and clearly, past my torrent of tears and frustration.
“Whoa! Hang on June. What do you mean Ruth has him? Where?”
“They sent him to Brinker again. The school did. He collapsed at recess and they sent him by ambulance to Brinker. I knew he didn’t look right this morning. I knew I should have kept him home.”
“June. June, you couldn’t have known this would happen. Just get to the hospital. I’ll meet you there. Are you okay to drive?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Take a deep breath and drive carefully. Ernie will be fine. He probably just had one of his seizures from being too tired. Just get there and I’ll meet you; we’ll figure this out. I am leaving now too. Okay?”
“Okay.” I said somewhat calmed by Tim’s logic. But I wasn’t convinced that anything about this episode would be ‘okay’.
***
I got to the hospital two minutes after Tim arrived. When I entered the lobby, I saw him bent over the reception desk, leaning on both elbows. He was apparently in an argument with someone behind the desk, who was hidden from view. I hurried to join him; when I got to his side, I immediately saw the cause of Tim’s angst; and soon to be mine–it was Ruth.
On seeing her, I instinctively copied Tim’s rigid stance. At my height, I had a much less intimidating presence than Tim. I didn’t bother with any pleasantries–not even a hello to Tim. Anyway, he was too engrossed with whatever happened before my arrival to need one.
I went straight to the reason I was there; why Tim and I were both there.
“What room is our son Ernie in?” I said through clenched teeth, glaring at Ruth.
“She won’t tell us,” Tim said with a slap on the counter as he turned to me. “She says we can’t see him and she won’t give us any information.” Ruth rolled her chair away from the desk, distancing herself from her two encroaching assailants.
Tim was more upset than I had ever seen him when confronted by illogical bureaucracy. Usually, he could calmly wade into the mess, find a path out and get to the outcome he needed.
But now, he had caught my anti-Ruth fire, and no amount of logic was going to interfere with that passion. She was the object in the way of being with his ailing son and nothing more; the same as she had become to me at our first meeting. I felt a bit apprehensive.
I worried that I had fired Tim up during our conversation the night before. I also worried that without my calmer half, I would have no one to talk me down from my normal and sometimes irrational response to anyone whom I saw as a threat to my kids. I needed his balance.
“You know what?” Tim continued after an awkward pause in which Tim and I exchanged glares with Ruth. “We don’t need you. Come on.” Tim grabbed my hand and led me toward the swinging doors leading into treatment rooms and main area of the hospital.
“You can’t go in there!” Ruth shouted at us. This drew everyone’s attention in the waiting area–as well as the security guard who was leaning against the wall near the doors.
We didn’t stop. Tim led me straight through the doors and then said, “You go that way and I’ll go this way. Text when you find Ernie.” And we went our directed ways.
The security guard, a 65-year-old man who was likely doing this job part time, took no action to stop us. He followed us through the doors and just stood inside with his arms crossed and legs planted wide.
Apparently, Ruth wasted no time calling the security chief to alert him of two intruders inside the hospital emergency treatment area.
Shortly after Tim and I had separated, an announcement was made over the hospital-wide communication system, alerting everyone to our presence. It was in code, “Security, 315 to area 2. Security, 315 to area 2.”
It didn’t take a genius to know what or who the message was referencing.
I continued on my path and quickly checked the two curtained-off emergency beds before heading down the hall toward other rooms, whizzing past radiology, emergency surgery, and any other places that were unlikely to be hosting Ernie–or that I could not gain entry to.
Then my phone buzzed. The shorthand text from Tim said, ‘Found him. Cops fnd me.’
I started to rush back toward the way I had come then abruptly stopped. Better I don’t draw attention to myself, I thought. I knew about where Ernie was now and maybe, if security guards are busy with Tim, I could make my way to Ernie without being noticed. Then I heard behind me, “We got her.”
Two security guards rushed toward me. My first impulse was to run, but I wasn’t a criminal. I just wanted to find my son and I had a right to know where he was and what was happening to him.
The first security guard to reach me was civil. He was tall, about 40 and looked to be in very good shape. He placed a hand on my upper arm. “Ma’am, you are not allowed back here without permission. You need to come with us back out to the waiting area.” I played dumb.
“What?” I looked at him wide-eyed. “I’m just looking for the right room where my son is. They said he is back here but I went the wrong way.” I lied as convincingly as possible.
The second security guard pointed to the ceiling and a round, black globe attached there.
“Lady, we have you on camera and we know who you are. Either willingly walk back out to the waiting area with us or we call the cops and you get arrested.” The second guard, a tall, skinny 20-something, said with much less care or civility than the first guard.
When I hesitated, the more aggressive guard grabbed my other arm and began to lead me down the hall.
“Don’t you touch me. I have the right to be here and you don’t have the right to keep me from my son.” I said. I ripped his hand from my arm and stood my ground.
“Ma’am,” the other guard stepped in front of the skinny one. “We aren’t trying to keep you from your son. We’re just telling you what the rules are. If you come out to the waiting area and talk to the folks out there, you can straighten everything out.”
The older guard was much more physically intimidating but also more adept at dealing with people and deescalating situations.
“It’s those people out there–one person–who is causing all this…this problem and keeping us from seeing our son!” I informed the guard with as much control I could muster.
“Listen,” he said. “I got kids. I get it. But let’s try to do this the easy way okay? You’re no help to your son if you get arrested.”
I stared at him trying, unsuccessfully, to find an argument to his logic. “I’ll tell you what. What’s your son’s name?”
“Ernie. Ernie Gallagher,” I answered.
“Okay. You go back to the waiting area with Jim, and I’ll find Ernie’s doctor and see if we can’t get him to come out and talk to you. Okay?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” I hesitantly replied.
“Great. Jim, walk her to the waiting area–without touching her–and I’ll see what I can find out.”
After that, I followed Jim out to the waiting area where I found Tim arguing profusely with Ruth. We were right back where we started. But Tim had texted he found Ernie.
“Tim!” I called. He stopped mid-rant and turned to look at me. I gestured for him to come over. I didn’t trust myself to be around Ruth right now. He looked at me and then back at Ruth briefly before heading my way.
Most people in the waiting area seemed attuned to our drama. Though, when I glanced their way, they avoided making eye contact. When Tim reached me, his face was bright red. I led him to a corner of the room to avoid becoming more of the day’s entertainment.
“What happened?” I quietly asked when we were sufficiently alone.
“That idiot woman. You were right. She is the cause of all of this. They won’t let us back there to see Ernie and we can’t take him out of here all because of her.” Tim said pointing in the direction of Ruth. He was beginning to steam again.
“No, no, no. Wait yeah, okay…I mean you saw Ernie. Did you talk to him? Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, focusing his eyes on me. “I got about 20 seconds alone with him before the Gestapo dragged me out here. He’s fine. He said he had a slight seizure, you know, passed out for a few seconds. He told them he was fine and just needed to sit for a bit and take half day maybe. But the principal said he had to go to the hospital and they threw him in an ambulance without calling us first.”
