An Invisible Client by Victor Methos Read Free Book Online Page A

him?”
    I glanced toward the door. “Sure.”

9
    Rebecca whistled at the hospital room door. Two whistles responded. She opened the door, and I followed her into a private room filled with balloons and flowers. Olivia came in behind me and leaned against the wall. In front of me, a particularly large balloon proudly displayed the San Francisco Giants logo, and a Giants jersey, white with red trim, hung on one wall. I cast my eyes over these things before I turned to the bed.
    Joel Whiting was abnormally thin for a twelve-year-old kid. His arms and legs were like sticks. His pale face had lips so cracked he looked like he’d been lost in a desert. The dark circles under his eyes stood out like makeup, and even though he looked dehydrated, his face was puffed up, as if he were retaining too much fluid. He wore a San Francisco Giants baseball cap.
    “Joel,” his mother said, “this is Mr. Byron. He’s a lawyer. He’s going to be helping us.”
    “Hi, Mr. Byron,” he said, voice as soft as the squeak of a mouse.
    “Hello, Joel.”
    I didn’t know what to say. I had no experience with children. One of my ex-girlfriends had had a son, but he’d been just a baby. I could place a baby somewhere and not have to interact. This boy was full-on staring at me, expecting something. It made me uncomfortable, and I had to look away and clear my throat.
    “Giants fan, huh?” I said.
    “Yeah. My daddy used to take me to their games. I saw them play the A’s, and we got popcorn and sodas.” He seemed equally as excited about the popcorn and sodas as the game.
    “Must’ve been fun.”
    “Do you like baseball?”
    “Not really. Boxing was always more my sport.”
    “Oh,” he said, disappointed. “My mama won’t let me watch boxing. She says it’s for people who are violent.”
    Rebecca blushed, though I didn’t feel insulted in the least.
    “That’s true. Your mother is a smart lady.”
    “Look at this,” Joel said.
    He reached over to the small table by the hospital bed. The effort it took seemed gargantuan, but he slowly wrapped his fingers around a card and held it up for me to see. I took a step closer.
    “It’s a Barry Bonds card. It’s not a first edition—those are really expensive—but my daddy got me this at Giants Stadium.” He turned the card around and stared at it, seeming suddenly sad. “He hit a home run when I was there, and my dad wanted to catch it, but it was too far away.”
    I nodded. “That’s a cool card. I would hang on to that. It’s gonna be worth something one day.”
    “Who’s that?” he said, looking at Olivia.
    “Hi, Joel,” she said, approaching the bed. “I’m Olivia. I work for Mr. Byron. And guess what? I love the Giants. I lived in San Francisco for a summer.”
    “No way.”
    “I did. I even went to a few of their games, and I saw them beat the Oakland A’s, too.”
    “I hate the A’s.”
    “Me, too,” she said softly, as though they were sharing a secret.
    In her interview, she had seemed shy and socially awkward, but around Joel she softened. As though the edges of her personality had been taken off and only the core remained. It was easy to tell she was someone who loved children.
    He looked at the card. “I’d like to go back again.”
    I heard a knock behind us, and two nurses brought in a machine I hadn’t seen before.
    “Hey, Joel,” one of them said. “It’s that time again, buddy.”
    “Already? I was talking about the Giants with Mr. Byron and Olivia.”
    “Mr. Byron and Olivia can come back when we’re done.”
    Rebecca gently touched my arm. “It’s time for his dialysis. We should go.”
    “It was nice meeting you, Joel.”
    “You, too, Mr. Byron. Bye, Olivia.”
    I saw the nurses get the needles ready, and I couldn’t watch. We went out into the corridor again, and his mother looked back through the small glass window above the door handle.
    “He’s on hemodialysis,” she said. “Four times a week. The needles are painful,