A Man Named Dave

windows, I regained my composure, started the car, and coasted away. I had somehow thought things would be different. But, like always, when dealing with Mother, I had been foolishly wrong.
    The next morning, I returned to Father’s room. With my head slumped, I bumped into a chaplain, who simply nodded at me without a word and patted my shoulder as if I were some stray dog.
    I debated what to do next. I felt the urge to do something. I wanted to kidnap Dad and take him to a baseball game, take a walk through the park, even sit in the back of a dingy bar and simply shoot the bull, go anywhere as long as we were together. But there was no way I could do anything.
    Excusing myself, I reached into the back of my flimsy wallet and pulled out a crumpled note before making a telephone call to Mother’s mother, to tell her about my dad.
    Seemingly within moments of replacing the phone in its cradle, Uncle Dan, Mother’s brother, flew out from the elevator. After a crushing hug, he pulled up a chair next to Father’s bed and whispered in his ear. I stood against the door beside Alice to give the two men their time together. I knew I did the right thing. As Uncle Dan held me, he fell over himself with apologies. “We didn’t know about him. No one knew,” Dan said.
    Watching Uncle Dan and Father together, I sensed the closeness they once must have shared. “Hey, Steve,” Dan grumbled, “come on, you gotta get dressed. I got a few good bottles and a couple of nice-looking dames in the car. Come on, we can’t keep ’em waitin’.” I nearly jumped out of my skin from the audacity of what Uncle Dan said. Of all the settings, it was the most tasteless thing I could possibly imagine. But by the response from Father’s eyes, I realized the true meaning of Dan’s statement. I selfishly felt as if I were babying Father, protecting him from anything I deemed might be harmful. Quietly, Alice and I slipped from the room, where I found a couch, closed my eyes, and pondered what to do.
    Sometime later Uncle Dan woke me with a shake, pleading for me to go home with Alice. Peeking in on Father, I felt that my weak need for rest was somehow a betrayal to him. Emotions of guilt over Father, elation at seeing Uncle Dan, and the rage I still felt about Mother swirled inside my head all the way home until I lay down again, this time on Alice’s couch.
    Almost the moment I fell asleep, Mrs Turnbough shook me awake. I bolted up, thinking the worst. But before I could race into the kitchen and seize the phone, Alice gently informed me it was not Kaiser Hospital but my grandmother. Dealing with Mother’s mother had never been easy. As a child, Mother and Grandmother always had an intense love-hate relationship, which my brothers and I had seen whenever one of the women had a run-in with the other. Though we were by no means close, I had always felt as a child that Grandmother was a covert ally.
    Wiping my eyes, I fought to regain my focus. Knowing that Grandmother was getting older, I had made sure when I called her hours ago that I deliberately downplayed the drama of Father’s condition. Because of Mother’s complete lack of regard for Father, I suddenly felt like an arbitrator. I was proud. For the first time, I was truly helping “The Family”. Reminding myself not to frighten her, I smiled and said in my most cheerful voice, “Grandma! I’m so glad you called. Everything’s fine. Father’s sleeping and there’s really been no change since this after –”
    “What in the goddamn hell is going on down there? What in the hell are you doing?” Grandma blasted.
    “What is it?” I said, stumbling. “What’s wrong? Father’s okay. I – I just … left him.” With Grandmother’s silence on the other end, I became seized with anxiety. “I just left over an hour ago. I’m sorry; I only wanted to catch a quick nap. I checked with the nurse. He said it was okay and that he’d call if there was any change. I swear it. Since I’ve been back, I haven’t had an hour’s sleep. I’m so sorry,” I said as I felt a wall of guilt crashing down on top of me. I knew I shouldn’t have left the hospital, so I could relax, while Father fought for every breath just a few miles away.
    Grandmother broke in, “What in hell’s bells are you babbling about? I don’t give a damn about your father at the moment. Right now all I want is an explanation. What did you do? How could you … at a time like this? Holy Mother of God … you’ve got some explaining to do, young man!”
    I was