I carried him carefully to my car. I guess it's all useless since he's already dead…But I want to do it. It was hard bearing this pain. I know he's gone through worse than what I'm feeling but… Oh God, why is this happening?!
I went outside the hospital without problem thanks to Clyde.
"You owe me an explanation" he said a while ago and gave me the release papers. The guard on the exit gave me a foul look. I can't blame him; I was carrying a dead body outside the hospital without any escort anyway.
But, I didn't care. I was holding my son. He is my son. His head is on my neck, cold. Thanks to Kara's hooded jacket, I was able to cover him, though not all. His lower half is exposed to anyone, he was just wearing a hospital dress.
I reached the car and I opened the door in the back seat. I stared at the inside of the car, doesn't know what to do. Should I place him here? I thought. But it pains me to think about it. I have neglected him ever since and now…
I closed the door and went to the passenger's seat. I placed the kits there and went to the driver's seat.
"I wont let go of you ever again, Kid." I whispered to his ear.
I know it's disgusting and weird but I don't care. I drove the car with him sitting on my lap, his head on my chest. I was driving with one hand, the other hand is supporting him not to fall.
Words can't escape my mouth. I was just gritting my teeth and holding back my tears. My anger can't be contained right now that I have been screaming inside the car while driving.
"I'm sorry if I'm being noisy, Kid. I hope you don't mind." I whispered with concern.
Of course, he doesn't mind. He's—
I don't want to accept it yet. I can't find the right words and everything keeps flashing back on my mind and every time I saw him in pain, my heart skips a beat.
"No…"
I kept on driving and soon, I reached the funeral home. I stopped the car in front of the entrance to the building and tried to reserve myself. I embraced him again and strongly wished for a miracle to happen.
"Dad has not been a good dad, right?" I whispered. "I'm sorry I was late. I was not able to save you."
Tears kept falling in my eyes. His hood is already wet with my tears.
I stared at the entrance of the funeral home but I felt afraid and drove my car away.
"Hey, didn't you say you want to go to the park?" I asked the Kid, waiting for a reply. But he kept silent.
I took the right turn and found a park near a baseball field near the area. I parked the car and opened the car door.
"I'm sorry it was just the two of us." I said. "And this is not even the park you wanted to go to."
I looked around and found a bench near the parking. I sat there with my son sitting on my lap.
"Didn't you want to play baseball?" I asked him. "Remember when we were watching a baseball game on TV, you were asking too many questions and eventually declared you'll become a player?" I laughed a little remembering the thought. "Was it a pitcher you want to be?"
He was a bundle of joy, he smiles a lot, he was kind and loving.
"But, we never gave anything in return." I cried. "I'm really sorry, Son."
I sat there for hours, talking to myself, honestly waiting for my Kid to reply. But no matter how much I've waited, he remained silent, he remained cold---and lifeless.
After some time, I came back to my car and placed him in the back seat. I put him behind the seat belt and kissed his forehead.
"I'll just go buy some burgers, okay?" I said and left to go to the fast-food store. "Did you wait long?" I asked when I opened the door.
I felt shocked in my veins when I saw his head hanging on his neck, forcibly held by the seat belt.
"Oh dear, Oh dear..." I panicked and placed him immediately in my arms. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."
I sat there clueless and moving. Just to keep him in form. After a while, we shared the burgers and fries I bought and I know he felt happy. We finished the food and we drove towards the sea.
"I haven't been here since Med school." I exclaimed. I struggled my way out of the car and sat on the sand leaning my back on my car's wheel. Kid sat beside me, resting his head on my shoulder while my hand is supporting him.
"Your cheeks are so soft..." I whispered. "How did I not notice?" I hummed a song until he slept. The next thing I knew, it was already morning.
The sun sets from the horizon, the wind blew warm and the birds sing their hymn, but my son remained lifeless beside me. I trembled and sighed.
I held his hand and saw his nails started to turn purple, his veins started to turn blue under the pale skin. I never had any word to say to him but "I'm sorry."
I tried to pile up the courage and went back to the car. I slowly drove back to the funeral home where I'd been before. I entered their lobby and approached the counter.
"Good evening, sir, what can I do—" the lady secretary was startled "Do you want to lay him inside first?"
"Hai…" I hesitantly replied. I followed her inside the room she led me.
She prepared the bed and I laid my son on it. His arm fell again and I saw the bruises yet again. I bit my lip in disgust. I brought his arm to the bed and placed the kits on the floor.
"I guess you should pick an urn, Sir." The secretary was holding a portfolio. "If you'd like, I have here—"
I know she's just doing her job but she's irritating me. I just don't want to think about it yet.
"Can you give me some time?" I humbly asked her.
"When you have sorted your feelings, Sir, I'm just at the counter, ready to serve you." She respectfully replied.
She went out and I was left alone with my son again. I took a seat and sat beside the bed. I grabbed his hand and placed it between my palms.
"You feel so cold…" I muttered. "Does your hand always been this small?" I tried to joke but tears kept falling on my eyes.
"If I have known earlier, we could have—" I choked myself off my own saliva when I heard a knock.
"I said give me some time." I replied. I thought it was the secretary but a man in a black suit came in.
"Sorry to break in." the man said. "But I guess you need this." He added.
I looked at him and was relieved. He handed me a black suit and sat beside me.
"I really don't know what to say. I can't find the right words to comfort you, Henry." Clyde said, putting his hand on my shoulder.
"I don't even know where to begin with, Clyde…" I said. "You know, he was just joking around the other morning…" I happily said. Like a proud father telling a story about his son. "He kept on making fun with Kara and always wears a smile as we ate breakfast."
"Hhmm.." Clyde was there, he just kept on listening.
"I never knew that was the last breakfast we'll share." I brought his hand on my cheek. "He was a good kid."
"I know.."
"Did you make the operation?"
"If I did, would you resent me?"
"I don't know. I'm full of hatred and guilt right now. I don't even know what to feel at this moment."
"I didn't. But I saw him when he ran away from his mom and the doctors who tried to capture him." Clyde said. "I heard him beg for his life."
I broke out. I glared at Clyde for saying that but I know he's not in the wrong. I felt the pain again, guilt was pushing me to my edges.
"He did what?" I tried to speak but my voice, too, sounded broken.
"Kara was crying and Cynthia was mad." Clyde said. "The next time I saw him is when he's already on transport to the morgue."
"I see…" I hardly spoke. "I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner, Kid."
"But, if you wont sacrifice him, will you sacrifice your other son? Either way, you'll have to choose one to save, Henry."
"I know. But there could have been another option. I'm sure we can find one." I argued.
"…" Clyde sighed.
It was true that if I was there, I will have to choose between the two. And if I was there, I won't be able to learn the truth. But I learned it at the wrong time. If it was sooner…
"Anyway, you have to lay him in rest," Clyde spoke. "He already needs that time, Henry. You have to let him go."
"But Clyde…"
"I know it's hard but you have to—"
"Just give me more time. I'll sort myself out."
Clyde left the room, leaving the black suit on his seat. I stared at the ceiling and sighed. It took me a moment to calm down and stared at my son.
"Let's go home, Kid."