gone, Davey? Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong.”
“Daddy, I can’t see anymore,” Davey said and then held him tight, burying his head against Greg’s chest.
Greg stroked Davey’s hair and felt his own eyes fill with tears. “What happened?” he asked as calmly as he could. He still held Davey and did his best to comfort him.
“We were in the family room. He got up and stumbled over the coffee table,” Hanna explained. “When he got back up, he turned around and got upset. We got him in here.” She was nearly as upset as Davey.
“Davey, it’s going to be all right. I’ll call the doctor and we’ll see what he says,” Greg soothed, as calmly as his trembling heart would allow.
Patrick came forward and cradled Davey in his arms. Greg stepped back and fished Jerry’s number from his wallet. He left a message with the answering service and got a call from Jerry back a few minutes later. Greg explained what had happened.
“All right. I want you to bring him into the office first thing Monday morning. Can he see anything at all?” Jerry asked.
“Davey,” Greg said, and Davey turned toward his voice. “Can you see anything at all?”
“Only brightness,” he croaked, and Patrick held Davey once again.
Greg relayed the message to the doctor.
“Okay. We’ve seen this before. His vision stabilizes for a month or two and then deteriorates again. We’ve known this day was coming. I was just hoping he’d have more time.”
“We all were. Is there any reason to take him to the hospital?”
“You can. I’ll meet you there if you like. They’ll probably admit him, and we’ll order the tests, but I can do the same thing on Monday and he’ll be home with you for the rest of the weekend. I’ll support whatever you decide.” Jerry waited. “On second thought, bring him into the office at nine tomorrow morning. Sunday or not, I’ll meet you there.”
“Thank you.” Greg wasn’t interested in having Davey in the hospital—keeping things as normal as possible was probably better. “We’ll see you then.” Greg hung up and looked around the room, trying to catch his breath. He wondered what he was going to do. What Davey was going to do. Yes, they’d both known this day was coming, but he’d wanted Davey to have as normal a life as possible. He still wanted that, but putting things off now wouldn’t help anyone. They’d lived on hope and prayers for months, and now both had run out. “Davey,” Greg said gently. “We’re going to go home now.”
Davey nodded but didn’t move away from Patrick.
“I’ll get his stuff,” Hanna said and hurried away.
“It’s really going to be okay. The doctor is going to see you tomorrow morning, and we’ll figure out what to do from there.” He took Davey’s hand and Davey moved away from Patrick. Greg put his arm around his son’s shoulders and held him close. He kept wondering how it must feel for him to no longer be able to see. Part of Davey’s world had just flicked off like a switch. Hanna returned with Davey’s suitcase, and Greg took it from her.
“Please let us know what you find out,” Ken said, standing next to Patrick, who nodded.
“Of course,” Greg said. “I’m sorry about all this,” he whispered, not sure what else to say.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Ken said.
They were clearly upset and concerned. Greg moved toward the door, guiding Davey, who felt his way in front of him. “It’s all right. I have you,” Greg crooned gently. “Take a single step down. There are three more ahead of you.” He guided Davey down the stairs and along the walk out to the car. Tom followed behind them and got into the driver’s seat.
Greg climbed into the backseat with Davey, and they rode in near silence toward home. “I really appreciate this, Tom,” Greg said.
Tom reached back with one hand and gently touched Greg’s leg. “It’s perfectly fine. I understand.”
Tom didn’t sound the same, and Greg
Learning to Kill: Stories