The Release — Finding It: Chapter 15

Countryside High School’s basketball team won a holiday tournament. I was reading all about it in the Springfield Sun’s Sports section when Dawn arrived. She cleared her throat to draw my attention away from the paper, but I’d already detected her approach from a waft of her familiar perfume, but it was mixed with the scent of fries and cheeseburger. As I looked up, I noted that she was clutching a small bag in her left hand. She smuggled in some goodies so that I could eat normal food!

She leaned over and kissed me, and then promptly sat in the chair beside my bed. “Your mom called the sorority last night. Jean talked to her for a bit, then she wanted to talk to me.”

“I figured she might.”

“She gave me directions for driving you home today. I guess she was worried you might fall asleep, and we’d get lost.”

“It is way out in the country. But it’s not that hard to find.”

“She told me it’s over 15 miles from here.”

“Yeah, closer to twenty.”

“Anyway, she invited me for dinner.”

“She obviously believes we’re an item.”

Dawn smiled. “We are.”

“But only for today.”

“But that’s all we ever need because — ”

“Tomorrow never comes.”

“Exactly.”

“The whole driving thing is a silly restriction. But I’m following the doctor’s orders, at least for a few days, until the stitches are out. Then I should be better than new. Right?”

“I’d still take it easy at first. Build up gradually to where you were before.”

“The problem is my coaches won’t let me wrestle until I get the doctor’s release. So, that means three more forfeits, at least. I’m going to wrestle at Lake if I have to forge a signature and threaten bodily harm.”

Dawn shook her head. “You won’t need to. Dr. Clements seems reasonable. He’s a wolfcat, after all. He just wants to err on the side of caution.”

“As long as caution doesn’t mean a full six weeks. That’s not gonna work.”

“You’ll just have to persuade him. Tell him to think more like a wolfcat and less like a doctor.”

“Well, he seemed happy when I was the first to bring it up. I guess he wondered if I knew. But I don’t think his abilities are — ”

“Strong? No, they’re not. But they’re strong enough that he must have some of the gifts.”

“He trusts his medical knowledge, more so than his instincts. I might be his first wolfcat patient. I didn’t bother asking. If so…”

“He’s learning from you.”

“Yeah.”

“Even if he had other patients, they might not be males. You’re kinda rare — once in a generation type stuff, especially having gifts as strong as yours.”

“Well, he’s gotta trust me. That thing about my knee last summer, that was before we met and before I started believing in my differences.”

“Whatever it takes, we’ll figure it out.” She winked.

“The doctor promised I could go home if I walked around the floor. I did five laps between last night and this morning. So, I’m expecting him to show up any time.”

“I plan to spend the rest of the day with you.”

“Thanks for the real food, by the way.”

“I don’t know about the real part,” she said with a chuckle. Then, she leaned over and gave me another kiss.

“Relatively really, then.” The fries were still warm and crispy, which was good. I hate it when they get soggy. The cheeseburger was mashed flat, though, as is often the case with carryout. Still, it was thoughtful of her to bring me lunch. After nothing but hospital food since surgery, I felt like I was starving.

“I gotta use the restroom,” she said as she stood.

I turned over beneath the sheets. My roommate and new friend of a couple of days, who had laughed so much at my experience with the enema, expired during the night. Unsure how I felt about it, I stared at the vacancy in the bed. Maybe the amusement he took at my expense made his last couple of days on Earth easier. Or the spasms of laughter shortened his remaining time. I kinda hoped that whenever I died, like him, I’d have some dignity and also a sense of humor.

Briefly, I considered a philosophical theory that my friend Seth studied in college. He told me that everything in life has a purpose, something I fully accepted. But then he added that each one of us serves a purpose for everyone else around us. Based on that belief, there was a purpose to my hernia. Who’s to say?

Dawn emerged from the restroom and paused, staring at the empty bed.

“He passed away, last night. I guess I was sleeping. I hope he was, too.”

She nodded. “He’s still here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. He hasn’t crossed over, yet. That happens sometimes if they miss the calling or refuse to leave. Eventually, he’ll be drawn to a more permanent haunt, like a familiar house, somewhere he was comfortable or where he feels he needs to be.”

“You mean his ghost is here?”

“You can’t sense those things yet.”

“Sporadically, I can. And it seems limited to my brother.”

She nodded, continuing to my bedside. “Anyway, he’s delighted I can see him. Says to tell you hello.”

“Hello,” I said to the empty bed.

“At some point, you’ll see and hear other ghosts, too. It’s a wolfcat thing.”

“I’m not sure I like that.”

“At first, I didn’t either. But it can make things interesting at times.”

“I guess I’ll wait to pass judgment on that.”

She took my hand. “Mostly, ghosts are harmless. The angry ones can cause trouble, though. But you’re stronger than they are, especially at manipulating the world around you. Always remember that and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

She caressed my cheek. “I’ll never lie to you, Brent.”

“You look tired.” My eyes met hers.

“Yeah,” she sat in the chair beside my bed. “We stayed up late last night playing cards, eating pizza, and listening to music.”

“Sound about right. College life at its finest.”

“Jean was telling me your band played at her sorority a year or so ago.”

“Yeah… a little over that. It was early spring. They had a party of some sort. I remember it was chilly that night.”

“She said you’re good.”

“She’s too kind and definitely biased. I thought we sucked. We were playing in the garage beside the house, using it as sort of a bandshell.”

“A real garage band.”

“There was this one guy standing up close to us who kept requesting Beatles songs. I mean — we knew them, especially the older ones because the chords are basic. And I knew all the words. But it got to be annoying.”

“I can understand that.”

“So, how’s Jen?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t contact her yesterday. I figured she and Syl were having a good time, otherwise, Jen would have reached out to me.”

I nodded. “Are you jealous?”

“Me? No.”

“You’re not being honest…and after just telling me…”

She drew a deep breath, then sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes, it’s so obvious that even I, who has limited insight and sensitivity — ”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” She forced a smile, then looked away. “I’ve never been to Niagara.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’d think at some point I’d have gone. I have relatives in Erie. That’s not far away.” She drew another deep breath. “Jen and I used to go places and do things together. It was fun. But lately… I don’t know what it is. A lot of the time we spend together is the usual superhero stuff.”

“Is she jealous of me?”

Dawn shrugged. “Maybe… I don’t know. I can’t read her sometimes. Witches do that — mask their auras so you can’t really know their feelings. I think it’s self-defense, something they do naturally, of course, ’cause it also protects them from hunters — that and there are a couple of protection spells.”

“Hunters. That’s why they are wary of us — wolfcats, I mean.”

“With good reason. Witches have been persecuted a lot, like anyone else that’s different. You know? I mean — we are, too. But there aren’t as many of us around and the witch hunters have too much trouble locating us, even though most of them are wolfcats — ones that are best at hunting, anyway. I think it’s because of something The Society does to them during their training. Anyway, Jen says they have trouble finding us.”

“I thought witch hunters disappeared hundreds of years ago.”

“Of course, you do. That’s what they want you to believe. They changed their tactics, went underground, but I assure you, the persecution never ceased. There have always been hunters and they’re probably looking for you and me even as we speak because the magic in us is so strong.”

“That’s unsettling.”

Dawn nodded.

“But witches like Jen could hide from these hunters, right?”

“Not entirely, but Jen can make it appear that she’s less powerful and therefore of lesser interest to them. With wolfcats, we are what we are, and, after a while, it becomes painfully difficult to hide our abilities. However, if you know a witch, their spells work on us as well. If you think you’re being followed, they can divert attention away from you.”

“Interesting.”

Dawn shrugged.

“So, have you called your parents?”

She shook her head. “We don’t always get along. I sort of had a falling out with them before I hooked up with good ol’ Marv. They gave me the ultimatum about finding a job or going to college. You know the routine: do something with my life. And after the gig with Marv fell apart, I moved back in with them for a few days until they drove me nuts and I moved in with Jen.”

“Was Jen okay with that?”

“Yeah, she was fine with it. I stay over there a lot anyway. But she kept making sure I knew it was temporary.”

“That pissed you off.”

“Exactly.” Her eyes met mine. “It’s not like I wasn’t looking for a place of my own. As soon as I can afford it, I’ll pack up and move out. Just I need to find a good-paying job first. Slinging burgers and stuffin’ bags with fries…” She indicated the bag of empty wrappers. “That ain’t my thing and it pays so little it’s almost a waste of time because you could be out looking for a better job. You know? I even got in touch with Marv. Maybe I should have stayed with him. He said he was in Vegas.”

“Or he was trying to make you regret leaving the show.”

“I thought about that, too. I wouldn’t put it past the scheming bastard.”

“He was probably in some other place named Las Vegas. I think there are a couple.”

“One’s in Texas and one’s in New Mexico,” she said. “I looked ’em up.”

“Either one would be better than here,” I said.

“Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on the company you keep.”

“True.”

“You’re easy to talk to, Brent.”

“You too, Dawn.”

She settled back into the chair and determined to wait with me for the doctor. I expected him to arrive any minute but then, the nurse came in to change the dressing on my incision and take my vital signs. She promised it was for one final time. That required Dawn to back away and the effective barrier of curtains was drawn around me. When the bandage was changed, she announced that the doctor was in surgery, but that he had pre-approved my release, pending good vitals and no sign of infection, which she confirmed.

“Great!”

“And he wanted me to make sure and go over the post-op instructions with you again and make sure you know about your appointment to remove the stitches.”

“On Monday morning.”

“Nine AM.”

By then, an orderly arrived with a wheelchair and my street clothes, ready to take me downstairs to the administrative office. Hurriedly, I slipped out of bed and grabbed the bag of clothes, and went to the restroom to change.

When I arrived at the office, they handed me copies of my paperwork including the bills and such that had been filed with my father’s health insurance. I also received a few printed pages of instructions about what was and was not allowed in terms of personal activity. How many times do I need to be reminded that for six weeks I was supposed to act like a semi-invalid?

It was a hospital rule that I would be taken from room to curb in a wheelchair. I didn’t feel it was necessary, especially since my release had depended on me being up and around. But having no choice I accepted it.

While I waited at the curbside for Dawn to fetch her car, I tried making conversation with the orderly. He was from Springfield, born and raised, attended South High School, and grew up in the same neighborhood where my brother-in-law lived with his grandparents before he and my sister, Joy, married. Small world.

Dawn’s car was nothing fancy, completely functional. The orderly opened the passenger door. I leaped up and shook the orderly hand. “Thanks, my good man.”

“It’s what I do,” he said, looking a little confused.

“You did it both professionally and politely,” I said, and then cribbed him a five-dollar bill in consideration of his effort.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it,” he pocketed the money and smiled as he pushed the empty wheelchair through the automatic sliding doors to reenter the foyer.

“You tipped him?”

“Yeah.”

“How much?”

“Five bucks.”

“Big tipper.”

“What’s the going rate?”

“I don’t know, but he can’t be much more than minimum wage. That tip might have even doubled his wage for this last hour. That was a nice gesture,” she said as she pulled away from the curb. At the first stop, she turned, looking into my eyes, and patted the back of my hand.

“I really am fine, you know. I bend and twist in all the usual ways. Just I need to prove to the doctor that I’m fully recovered. Maybe I should snatch him up and press him above my head or something.”

Dawn laughed. “As amusing as the mental image of that is, he’d probably flip out and want to take all sorts of x-rays.”

“That’s it! I just got to talk him into doing x-rays and seeing for himself that I’m ready to go.”

“So, what does it say there in those papers they gave you?”

“That fixing my hernia cost my dad’s insurance a lot of money.”

“No, about other things.”

“Like what?”

“Specifically, about having sex.”

I was stymied, not expecting what she asked. At first, I thought she was joking or trying to get a rise — poor choice of words — out of me. But I sensed she was serious and that simultaneously excited and terrified me.

Of course, I thought about it. I thought about it a lot. I was sure she had too, just maybe not as often as I did because I’d heard that’s more of a guy thing. But except for Dr. Clement assuming we were sexually active, the subject had not come up — again, poor choice of words — not specifically. We were friends and had been for a couple of months. We got along well. But the thought of graduating to a level of intimacy beyond sharing kisses and holding hands petrified me.

Assuming from her question that there was a couched invitation to take our relationship beyond its present level, past being mutually comfortable, I took some solace in burying my nose in the post-operative instructions. Always there was a barrier I did not cross with girls because I was a virgin and lacked direct experience. I didn’t want to be awkward. I didn’t want to ruin the experience for either the girl or me. I was hoping — I think — that there would be some explicit proscription against having sex.

After studying the instructions again, I looked up. “Specifically, it says recovery should not adversely impact most routine sexual intercourse,” I replied. “So, whatever the non-routine stuff is, that would be a ‘no’.”

She laughed. “I can think of a couple of things.”

“Anything involving handstands and concurrent cartwheels?”

“Concurrent cartwheels?” She laughed aloud. “What the heck is that?”

“It was a visual I just had of two people hooked up together while performing a simultaneous cartwheel.” I figured it could be possible, but I didn’t know for certain. “Might be painful.”

“Wow!” Dawn shook her head as she turned out onto the main street that would eventually lead us out of town. “That was unexpected. I’m not even sure how to respond to that.”

“Ignore it and it will go away. It may be improbable. I’m pretty reserved about saying that anything is impossible, though.”

“You completely sidestepped the main issue.”

“Which was?”

“If we wanted to have sex, could we?” She briefly met my eyes again.

“Is that what you want to do?”

“It’s something I wanted to know about you, how do you feel about it?”

“Nervous.”

“Why?” she asked.

“I’m worried it would change things and maybe you’d not be comfortable with me anymore,” I admitted.

“How can I be uncomfortable with someone who can envision simultaneous concurrent cartwheel intercourse?”

I shrugged, having nothing to say.

“It sounds both inventive and fun even if you meant it as a joke.”

“Yeah, well, it was mainly because I didn’t know how to respond to your question. So, I said something bizarre. It’s a defensive mechanism.”

“I get that. But sex is where a lot of relationships end up eventually. Sometimes people get sidetracked, though. We can communicate at an amazing level, but then, after a while — ”

“I’m not experienced.”

“I know that. You think I am?”

“I assumed… well, you and Jen.”

“Jen and I fool around. At least we used to. I’m talking about doing it with a guy.”

“What if you don’t like it? I mean, would that turn you against guys completely. I wouldn’t want that kind of responsibility.”

“It’s not like that at all. I like guys. I like guys a lot. Just I’ve never gone all the way with a guy. And I’d like you to be my first.”

“You want to start dating seriously, then. I mean, I’m okay with that. I like you a lot.”

“No pressure. No strings. Just having some fun, exploring the possibilities. If we like it, we can always do it again… and again… and again.”

“I’m not sure how good the first time will be. I learn fast, though.”

“You know what to do, I’m sure. You live on a farm. You’ve seen animals do it.”

“Yeah. I know what goes where. I’ve also read medical books and I’ve seen magazines. Granted, the latter is designed to stimulate more than inform. It just seems like a huge step. I want to make sure it’s right.”

At the next corner, there was a pharmacy. Down pulled into the lot. “I’ll get some condoms.”

“No, I can get them.”

“I’m not on the pill. It never seemed necessary before. The condoms are just in case. So, we’re prepared.” She opened her door. “You coming inside?” She paused then after realizing what she said, she laughed.

“Where are we going to do this?” I interrupted her.

“Anywhere you want.” She settled back into her seat.

“My house is out of the question.”

“I figured that. We could find a motel.”

“There are a couple of vacant houses on my dad’s farm. They’re haunted.”

“Cool,” she said. “That could be interesting. We’d have an audience.”

“One of them has some furniture in it still, antique stuff. There are mattresses. It’s dusty inside, though.”

“Wait what did I miss?” Carlos asked.

“A lot.”

“I see that.”

I opened my door and stepped outside. Dawn did the same. I started toward the entrance, but Dawn reached out and caught my hand, pausing me. “You would, though?”

“Have sex with you? In a heartbeat.”

“I needed to know.” She leaned over and kissed me.

I started to continue inside, but she tugged on my hand again. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“If your folks ever found out… I’m nineteen. They’d have me arrested.”

“I’d never let them do that.”

She shook her head.

“Maybe I’m a prude. I’m dealing with all the secretly couched messages my parents have implanted in the back of my mind to prevent me from doing what I truly desire.”

“Do you desire me?” she asked.

“You could not imagine how much I want to just… well… do it.”

“You’re important to me, Brent, the complete person you are. But when two wolfcats connect, really connect, it’s an important and intense experience. I want it to be the right time for you.”

“You’re more than what you appear. I want to know everything about you, your dreams, your quirky little things, you know? Like how you ever became as wonderful as you are. You’re far more than you seem.”

“So are you! The day you turn eighteen. Mr. Woods — ”

“May 7th.”

She nodded. “If we’re still… still like we are now.”

“Why wouldn’t we be? Do you know something I don’t?”

“Wolfcats have premonitions, Brent. You know that. You have those, too.”

“I’ve had them for years. But things don’t always happen the way I think they might.”

“As you gain better control, that will change. But it always depends on your relationships with other people. You cannot see your own future except through another’s eyes. And the further away something you foresee, the less accurate your sense of relative probability.”

“What do you foresee, then…about us?”

“Lots of things that can happen between now and then. That’s how I know.”

“Know that we shouldn’t?”

“Know that I shouldn’t be your first,” she said. “Which is not to say that you shouldn’t be mine.”

I tilted my head to one side.

“It’s complicated, I know. But that’s what I feel.”