A Fluffy Tale Page 5

  No change, no more information. Pyon didn’t like the hospital—neither did the other kems, from what he could see. Too many people in distress, angry, worried or bored, and with no interest in playing with their kems or anyone else’s. Only the children, with their tiny symbiotes, had time for them. Pyon played a little with the younger kems and the children too, who adored him, but most of the time, he spent with Julian, curled up on his lap and swishing his tail against Julian’s hand, or begging for cuddles and petting. He seemed as worried as Julian, and it made Julian wonder just how much Pyon knew of what was going on.

  The room was hot, ugly and smelled of desperation and unwashed people. Without his kem for company, he’d have gone nuts, but it was still damn boring. The only thing he’d learned was that Zachary’s uncle was expected in around midnight, still hours away. In the meantime, he could only wait and worry—or go home, which he refused to do. He felt someone should be here—it was wrong that Zachary, or anyone, could be so badly injured with no one to wait for them to wake up. But there wasn’t a lot he could do until that happened.

  At eight, his stomach rumbled. He’d brought some nuts and dried fruit to stave off hunger but he thought he should keep those until he had no other options. The hospital offered a canteen some distance away, an all night tea and coffee bar, and some hideously overpriced vending machines. He went for the machines because they were closest and at least they sold sandwiches and juice. Zachary’s lectures about healthy eating hadn’t covered hospitals, but Julian felt he should try to stick to the diet. Zachary would be furious if Pyon suffered because of him.

  He had just pressed the button for the juice and was waiting for it to dispense when he heard a plaintive whine and felt a clawing at his leg. But Pyon was on his shoulder… He looked down and saw a familiar, if unexpected, kem, batting at his ankle. “Linis? What are you doing here?”

  He bent down and picked up the big kem, who wailed and headbutted him. He’d never seen Linis upset at all before.

  “Hey, fella, you’re worried?” He cuddled him close, and Pyon bent down to give his new friend a lick. Julian collected his juice and took the food and his passengers back to the hard and uncomfortable chair.

  Linis was desperate for reassurance and affection—desperate full stop, in fact. Did that mean…? Julian felt a chill in his chest. Was Zachary…dying? He hugged the two kems close to him and bit his lip. Would the hospital tell him if he was?

  But Linis seemed in good health, and surely if Zachary was on the verge of death, he wouldn't be. He just seemed rather lonely and worried. All Julian could do was try to reassure him, let Pyon play and groom him, while he ate his scratch meal and wondered what was going on behind the closed doors of the emergency ward.

  Linis disappeared from time to time, and Julian worked out that he was popping back to check on Zachary. But he always reappeared in minutes, distressed and in need of more affection. Julian finally asked the receptionist if there was any more news, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t tell him anything more than he already knew.

  Time dragged on. As night fell, the waiting room emptied of the families and the idlers, leaving only the truly desperate and worried, and even they mostly disappeared as they received news, or their friends and loved ones came out, bandaged or clutching a bag of medicine. Every so often people would stagger in, either drunk or clutching a bloodied head or hand. Their friends hung around while they were treated and then left.

  Julian alone kept a vigil all evening. Zachary would probably be utterly bemused at him doing so, but he just…had to.

  At one am, a taxi pulled up outside and a tall, elderly man carrying a smart, compact leather suitcase, came in through the glass doors. Julian guessed at once who it was, and went over to him. Though the man had to be seventy at least, he had the same elegant bone structure and lean physique as his nephew—and the same green eyes.

  “Are you here for Zachary?”

  “Why, yes.” The man seemed completely taken aback at being accosted by a stranger. “I'm Leo Underwood, his great uncle. Who are you?”

  “Uh, Julian Godwin. He…we work together. Um…he’s a friend.”

  “You must be—is that Linis? Goodness, what are you doing here, little fellow?” He reached out and patted Zachary’s kem affectionately. His own kem, a small white creature, materialised then and walked down his arm to sniff and lick at Linis’s face, and then Pyon’s. “You and Zachary must be close.”

  “Um, not exactly. They won’t tell me what’s happening with him. He was hit by the car just near my apartment. We’d been jogging together—I feel awful.”

  Underwood smiled wearily. “Not your fault, so don’t. Let me speak to whomever I need to. Could you look after Linis while I do that?”

  He left his case with Julian and then went over to the receptionist. He was taken almost immediately behind scenes, leaving Julian with the two kems to wait again.

  It seemed to take forever, though the clock on the wall said it was only fifteen minutes before Leo Underwood reappeared. He looked far more tired and depressed—the news couldn’t have been good. Julian stood to hear the worst.

  “Is he going to be okay?”

  “They’re not sure. He’s in critical care right now. The injuries were severe.” He rubbed his eyes. “To be honest, Julian…they warned me he could die.”

  “No,” Julian whispered.

  “I'm afraid so, yes. But he’s stable, and I believe he’s being given excellent care. They told me to return in the morning, to leave a contact number with them. I’ll stay at Zachary’s apartment.”

  “You could stay with me, if you like. His place isn’t far from mine…and…um…”

  “You want the company? Have you been here all day?” Julian nodded. “My dear boy, you must be exhausted. I accept your generous offer—a sorrow shared and all that.”

  “What about Linis?”

  “Let me talk to him. May I have your telephone number to give the doctors?”

  Julian scribbled it out, and the address—and his name, just to be sure—and Underwood took it. “Let me sort this out. Give me Linis, and if you could call a taxi?”

  It was good to have someone who could make decisions—who could get information, even if it was bad news. When Julian finished ordering the car, he found the man talking seriously to Linis in a low voice, his own kem listening intently. Then he straightened and Linis disappeared. “I asked him to keep an eye on our boy while we get some rest. He understands we can’t be here all the time.”

  “How do you know, sir?”

  “I just do,” he said, smiling tiredly. “Please, call me Leo—‘sir’ makes me feel my age and I really don’t need any help with that. I hope that taxi comes soon. I'm not as young as I used to be, and it was a tiresome flight.”

  Julian was a lot younger but this worrying day and all the waiting had exhausted him. The old man had to be close to passing out. Since he couldn’t directly help Zachary, he decided he would help Zachary’s uncle—and maybe learn a little more about the mysterious Mr Ledbetter. It’d be a distraction from worrying himself sick, at least.

  They spoke little in the taxi, except to exchange the names of their kems—Leo’s was called Nuji, and Pyon was already his fast friend—and for Julian to explain his relationship with Zachary a little better.

  “I, uh, don’t know the names of his other friends. Are you going to call his parents?”

  “I can’t. They’ve been dead for over twenty years.”

  “Oh.” Julian replayed that conversation in his head and mentally smacked himself. It hadn’t been hostility—just deep discomfort, possibly even grief, which had made Zachary go all frosty. “No other relatives?”

  “None, unless you count distant second and third cousins that neither of us have ever met. There’s just me, and like you, I don’t know his friends either. You’re the first one I’ve ever encountered. I'm glad he’s found someone so loyal.”

  Julian opened his mouth to say
he’d do this for anyone, then shut it. If Leo wanted the illusion of a close friendship, what harm could it do? For all he knew, he was Zachary’s best friend—which was a lonely, depressing thought in itself. “He can’t die,” was all he said.

  “I hope not. He’s young and fit and the doctors said he had more than a fifty percent chance of making it. I'm a great believer in those kinds of odds, Julian. Are we nearly there?”

  They were. Getting up the stairs and opening his front door suddenly felt like enormously difficult tasks. But finally he was home. That morning, Zachary had eaten breakfast with him in this very place. Their dirty dishes still sat in the sink. His heart went tight. Zachary just couldn’t die.

  He set Leo’s suitcase down and tried to think what needed to be done. “I, uh…need to change the sheets.”

  Leo shook his head. “Please, Julian, I’ve slept on mud floors. I just want to lie down. Politeness can wait.”

  Julian was too tired to argue, though he did put out clean towels and checked the bathroom was still respectable. He didn’t even bother making up the sofa bed—he just grabbed his pillow from the bedroom, swapping it for a spare, clean one, and picked up a blanket. He was asleep in seconds, Pyon clutched close to him.

  He dreamed and he had nightmares, but when he woke, shuddering, the memories slipped through his fingers, only leaving sadness and confusion. He took a few seconds to work out why he wasn’t in his bed, and what had woken him—the answer was the same thing. Leo. The man, dressed in a black and gold silk bathrobe, puttered quietly enough in the kitchen but the unfamiliar noise—soft clinks of someone trying to find mugs in a strange kitchen—had been enough to interrupt Julian’s sleep.

  He checked his watch. Just gone seven o’clock. Just over twenty four hours since… God, he hoped Zachary was all right.

  Leo paused in the middle of pouring from the teapot as he spotted Julian was awake. “Oh, I'm sorry, Julian. I desperately needed some tea.”

  Julian yawned and waved away the apology, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. “Did you call the hospital?”

  “Yes. No change. Which is good. The longer he survives, the better his chances, so they told me.”

  Julian found it hard to match the optimistic smile, but he did his best. Nuji perched on Leo’s shoulder and Pyon scrambled over to play. The two kems ended up on the floor, chasing each other. Julian wondered about Linis and how he was doing.

  “We’re going back this morning, right?”

  “Of course. Now I'm here, you don’t…but yes, of course you do. Forgive me. And your company would be welcome, but eat breakfast first. It’s going to be a long day. I’ve done this kind of thing before.”

  If the old man hadn’t been there, Julian would have skipped it and gone straight back. He was grateful to have someone making him be sensible. Finding breakfast for Leo, forcing himself to shower and shave carefully, thinking about what needed to be done for his guest’s comfort, was a welcome distraction from his anxiety.

  He was more than a little concerned about the stress on Leo, especially when Leo let slip he was closer to eighty than seventy. “You could wait here, you know. I could let you know what’s going on.”

  “No, I must go. Beside…the doctors said that someone may have to make…but let’s not talk of such things. It won’t come to that.”

  “You mean, decisions about turning stuff off? You can’t!”

  Leo winced. “I may have to. I'm his next of kin, Julian. These things must be faced. But not now, and perhaps not at all.”

  “He’d want Linis kept alive.”

  “I'm well aware of that. I promise I won’t make any decision on such matters without talking to you, and considering every possibility. But you see, I do need to be there, though I should go to his apartment first, and see if there’s anything that needs to be tended to.”

  Once Leo had showered, and Julian had cleared up, they set out. They walked because the apartment was so close, though Julian had stiffened up just as Zachary had predicted. He thought sorrowfully of the day in the country he’d hoped to have—it seemed so long ago they’d talked about it, just the day before.

  Leo, despite his age, was quite sprightly on his long legs—another similarity with his great-nephew. Julian wondered how close the connection was, and as they walked, he asked about the relationship. “Did you raise him? He must have been a kid when his parents died.”

  “Ah, sadly no. My sister and her husband—his mother’s parents—brought him up, though I’d have dearly loved to have done. My niece, ah, didn’t exactly approve of me.” He smiled sadly. “But my sister and brother-in-law passed away several years ago. There’s just Zachary and me now. I’ve known him all his life. A fine, caring young man.”

  “How old was he?”

  “When his parents died? Only seven. It was an airline crash—he was staying with my sister while his parents attended a medical congress. Both doctors, you see. The plane developed a critical fault, came down, and everyone on board died. The only blessing was that Zachary wasn’t one of them.”

  “Yes.” Raised by his grandparents—that couldn’t have been a lot of fun. “Are you two close then?”

  Leo sighed. They’d arrived at Zachary’s apartment building now and slowly climbed the stairs. “Not really, though I’d have liked to have been. I keep in touch as much as he allows. But he’s not really close to anyone that I know of.”

  They let themselves into the apartment. Julian wasn’t surprised to find it spare and clean and elegant, much like its owner. It was as large as his parents’ house—three bedrooms, a large open sitting room, a kitchen and dining area with a long polished wood dining table that might have been an heirloom. One wall was entirely taken up with books, not just law texts but books on dozens of different topics. On a glass side table, a chess game was set up. There were no messages on the answer phone or Zachary’s mobile. No pictures of family or friends featured anywhere, no real sign of the man himself—no degrees on display, or personal touches. The abstract paintings on the wall were beautiful but told him nothing of Zachary himself.

  It felt lonely, and a little empty. Zachary hadn’t been there long, though. Perhaps there were things in storage, waiting to be unpacked. Julian hoped so. Pyon and Nuji nosed around but even Julian’s curious kem couldn’t find much to amuse himself. Sterile, that was the word.

  There wasn’t much to do—when Zachary woke up, he’d need personal things, books and so on, but that could wait. Having checked messages and that there wasn’t any food left out that could go off, they headed to the hospital. The only news was that there was no news, but Leo’s arrival meant that they could wait in the more comfortable and private waiting room near the critical care ward, and he could authorise Julian as a visitor. They were allowed to see Zachary—and ‘see’ meant through a window, not in the same room—though Julian kind of wished he hadn’t, afterwards.

  “He looks terrible,” he whispered, staring at the monitors and the traction device and all the equipment. And at the horribly battered and pale form on the bed, dwarfed by all the technology. He could barely see Zachary’s face—he was on a breathing machine and the tubes and masks and tapes obscured most of the skin that wasn’t covered in bandages. Did the monitor readings mean he was doing okay or not?

  “People look terrible in these situations, Julian. It’s what’s going on inside that counts.” They heard a faint, desperate cry. “Oh, Linis.”

  Zachary’s kem came straight to Julian and Pyon, wailing to be picked up. Julian gave him lots of cuddling and petting, Leo and Nuji joining in. “He’s scared.”

  Leo nodded. “Yes, and Zachary would be very pleased you’re here to look after him. Come on, standing here and staring won’t do anyone any good.”

  For a while, they had the waiting room to themselves. Julian didn’t feel like talking—the sight of Zachary and seeing just how very ill he was, had shaken him up. Leo respected his need to silence, entertaining himself by playing wit
h the three kems, especially Linis. Julian wondered if Zachary knew how much his uncle loved him and Linis both, and really hoped he’d live long enough to discover it, if he didn’t.

  A doctor came in close to midday to let Leo know the latest. Zachary was holding his own, and the ventilator was just to take the strain off him, not because he couldn’t breathe without it. “Will he live?” Julian blurted out.

  “He’s fighting hard,” the doctor said. “But we’re cautiously optimistic.” Julian grinned at Leo who smiled in obvious relief. “We’ll take him off the ventilator tomorrow if he continues to do well, and we should see him waking up then. Mr Underwood, he’s going to be sedated until then for his own comfort—there’s really little point in you sitting around here. If there’s a crisis, we can call you. You’re not staying far from here, are you?”

  “I want to stay,” Julian said.

  “Yes,” she said, “I understand. But Zachary will be with us for a couple of weeks or more. He’ll need you when he wakes up. I suggest you take Mr Underwood home, both of you take it easy, and stay where we can contact you. Nothing will happen so fast that you won’t get back here in time, I promise.”

  Leo grimaced. “Perhaps…Julian, I think we should.”

  “What about Linis? He needs the company.”

  The doctor held up her hands. “I’ll leave it up to you. But this will be a long business, gentlemen. Zachary’s recovery will take months. He’s in good hands here, and so is his kem.”

  She left them then. Julian sat down and called Linis up onto his lap. Pyon jumped up too, and he stroked them both. “You can go if you like, but I owe Zachary. I can’t abandon Linis.”

  “No. We can stay an hour or so. Linis understands, and so long as he knows we’re coming back, he’ll be fine. Tomorrow will be the day we’ll be needed.” Leo patted Julian’s shoulder. “She’s right—we need to pace ourselves.”

  “Who did you do this with before?”

  “Friends. A lover, once, who had cancer.” Leo’s eyes shadowed briefly. “When you get to my age, you accumulate losses.”