Chapter 92

Ardal

“They make cute pups."

I whirl around to see Jack has perched himself onto a fallen log. His hands move swiftly, scrawling a mark into the dense soil beneath him. He raises his head to meet mine and adds in a gravely tone, "It's good they're with their father, Ardal."

I nod and cast my eyes down, feeling the heavy weight of the secret I'm keeping from Kadeem crash down onto my shoulders again.

I break the silence with a half-formed thought. "I swear, though," I mumble, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Kadeem…” A knot forms in my stomach and I trail off.

Jack fills the void, murmuring softly, “Remembers."

I nod and look off into the distance. “Let’s not talk about him.”

Jacks fiddles with the stick in his hand and we sit in silence for a moment before I attempt to address the tension between us.

"I really am grateful to you for this," I say as I find his eyes. "This trip has been a wreck and there's absolutely no logical reason you should have gone along with any of it. You're incredible."

He peers back at me with sorrowful eyes, then sighs quietly and averts his gaze.

I feel his sadness like a vice grip around me. I try to shake it away and my mind centers on the reason we're here.

“Are you... Are you going to tell me what this is all about yet,” I ask in a hushed tone. "How you'll help Erbao?"

He shakes his head slowly but speaks firmly, “It's something you'll just have to see for yourself. You wouldn’t understand.”

His obstinance is flint that ignites my own stubborn spark.

I cross my arms across my chest. “Try me."

Jack stays silent, so I settle down onto the log next to him - hoping that somehow my presence could bridge the widening chasm between us.

“I hope this isn’t too soon,” I say, laughing nervously. I want a way to fix the things I’ve broken. “But I have a friend. She -“

“No,” he says, shaking his head. His eyes hold mine painfully tight. “She’s not you.”

My voice catches in my throat as Jack's reply reverberates through the air. The wind seems to still for an instant and an invisible pressure builds between us.

I clear my throat and try again, desperate to break the leaden tension smothering us. “No," I say, "But she’s drop-dead gorgeous - and a lot more put together than me. And," I grin, wanting to break into a drum roll, "No ex-husbands or kids!”

He smiles just a little. “You’re put together pretty well, Ardal. I wouldn’t change you.” He looks down again and twirls the stick between his fingers.

“Thanks,” I squeak, guilty tears welling up in my eyes.

A chattering squirrel scuttles past, bolting up a tree nearby.

“Just so you’re aware," Jack says, his eyes tracking the squirrel as it ascends, "If they’re not back soon, we should save the trek for tomorrow. I don’t want to arrive too close to nightfall.”

Something in his voice makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

I take a deep breath. “You really think this will help Erbao?”

He nods. “I know it will. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

“You have?” Curiosity bubbles up inside of me.

The sadness which has been emanating from Jack suddenly grows tenfold. He clears his throat. “My sister,” he begins. His head hangs and his eyes are cautiously lowered, as if he's ashamed of something he can't bear to bring himself to speak of.

I put my hand on his knee, to comfort him, but he doesn't respond. “She was sick?" I ask gently.

He nods and his voice comes out in a rasp. “Yes. She had cancer." He shifts uncomfortably on the log, so I pull my hand away.

He looks up at me. "We were separated quite a ways in age. I was almost out of high school when she was born," he says, "And in med school when she got sick."

“I’m sorry,” I say, feeling the hurt come off of him in waves.

Jack's face darkens. "It couldn't be cured. Medicine had nothing to offer. You can't imagine how helpless that felt. I questioned my whole world. Here I was, trying to become a doctor, but medicine wasn't going to save her."

His voice breaks. Then he swallows heavily, as though he’s working to push away the memories bringing so much pain and still fresh in his heart despite the passing years.

He composes himself before continuing softly, "It's a flawed, imperfect solution I offer to Erbao," he says. "One you must really be willing to wrap your mind around, but if you can, I think you'll see the elegance - the beauty of it."

I try to look through to him. What am I seeing? What is he offering?

"There's a price," he says. "But in return, no dialysis, no transplant surgery, no pills with side effects to swallow each day. And Ardal..."

He shakes his head and lowers his eyes again. "Even with a transplant, your son won't - he won't live to a full, normal age of life expectancy."

My heart rips open and tears fill my eyes. "Jack," I croak, barely able to push his name through the lump in my throat, "You never said -"

"I didn't want to say it," he whispers in agony. "But of course, I would have when it came to it. I would do my job - but do you see? Do you understand now why - why I would bring you here and risk everything? I want to spare you and your family more pain if I'm able to, if you agree."

My grief gives way to an anxious frustration. "Agree to what?” My voice rises. I’m unable to hold back the dam of emotion.

"I have to show you," he says. "If I tell you.. you'll run."

I freeze in place, the heat slowly fading from my face.

I should take his words on the cuff. He means, I'll change my mind, I'll leave.

But maybe his tone or maybe it's the aura of mystery in the air, I hear them in their literal sense. The gravity is unmistakable.

You'll run.

"We can go now," he says. "You can decide then, what's best for you and Erbao."

I straighten and draw a breath. "Um, I don't know," I stammer. "Didn't you say it was five miles - uphill?"

"They'll be gone for a few hours," Jack says, looking out into the distance where Kadeem and the kids disappeared. "And we'll be quick if we run on all fours." He offers me a hesitant smile.

My mind races. What should I do?

Well, I know what I should do. I should wait for Kadeem, of course. That's the logical decision.

I know it, and yet...

A flock of blackbirds descends from the heavens, flapping overhead as their strong raven-colored wings beat in perfect synchrony. They flutter into a twisted pine just in front of the van.

One hops around on a low branch, calling out continuously with its melodic song. Its coal black eyes hone in on me just before it soars off into the sky.

"Right," I say shakily, glancing at Jack. "Let's go."