One Last Thing Before I Go

incorrectly, Silver will most likely not survive the surgery. He stupidly went online last night, where he discovered that the mortality rate for this surgery is roughly thirty percent. Those are some pretty rough odds.
    At this moment, Silver is filled with the psychic certainty that he is going to die today. He can’t stop shaking, although that might be from having his groin exposed in the cold, sterile room, his cock shunted off to the side under a paper pad like a vestigial appendage. He wonders if he is being punished. He looks up to the ceiling, but there is no sign of God. Still, maybe a quick prayer, something simple and heartfelt, just to let Him know that he’d like to do better.
    * * *
    Casey sits in her car, in the parking lot, her legs shaking restlessly. She looks at her watch. They’ll be getting Silver ready now. She came into his bedroom last night and found him lying on his side, shaking visibly.
    “Are you OK?” she said.
    “I’m sorry,” he said.
    She lay down beside him and put her arm over him, trying to calm him. “It’s OK, Dad,” she told him. “It’s going to be fine.” She was glad that he was scared—it gave her hope—but it was unnerving to see him like that.
    She takes a deep breath and looks out her window. The sky is overcast, and there are tiny droplets forming on her windshield. It’s going to rain hard when it comes. She closes her eyes and allows herself a single tear.
    * * *
    Rich comes in, already in his scrubs, and checks Silver’s vitals.
    “They shaved my balls,” Silver tells him.
    “They shaved your groin,” Rich says as he reads Silver’s chart. “And you’re welcome. You ready for this?”
    “No.”
    “Well, I am, and if one of us is going to be, it should probably be me.”
    Silver smiles. “You sound confident.”
    “Bad for business if I don’t.” Rich puts down the chart and smiles. “The anesthesiologist will be up in a few minutes.” He pats Silver’s shoulder.
    “Hey, Rich?” Silver says.
    “Yeah.”
    “I don’t want to die.”
    Rich nods and smiles warmly. “I’m glad to hear it.”
    * * *
    Casey grips her steering wheel, watches a flock of geese fly past. She rubs her sweaty palms on the leather of her seat, and then turns off her car. It’s time. She steps out of the car and feels the humidity enter her pores. Off in the distance, the faintest roll of thunder, and it calms her. Sunshine today would be unbearable.
    She locks her car and heads across the parking lot, then stops short when she sees Denise, standing at the clinic entrance, waiting for her.
    “Hey,” Denise says.
    “I thought you’d be over at the hospital.”
    Denise looks at her with so much tenderness that Casey can feel herself coming apart right there on the sidewalk. “Silver asked me to be here for him.”
    Casey thinks about it for a moment. “He’ll be OK, right?”
    “I think so, yes.” Denise puts her arm around Casey and kisses her lightly. “You ready to go in?”
    Casey leans her head against Denise’s shoulder, and takes a last deep breath. Then she takes her mother’s hand and they head inside.
    * * *
    The anesthesiologist is a thin, quiet man with salt-and-pepper hair that Silver finds reassuring. He sets up his various drips, humming lightly to himself.
    Jack and Oliver come in one last time, to wish him well. Oliver talks in low tones while Jack paces nervously, touching all the equipment.
    “Will you stand still?” Oliver says. “You’re making us all nervous.”
    “I’m sorry. Hospitals make me nervous,” Jack says. “You sure you can handle this now?”
    “It’s fine,” Silver says. “I don’t really have to do anything. They’ll wake me up when it’s over.”
    “Just don’t die,” Jack says.
    Oliver turns to fix him with an incredulous stare. “That’s great advice, Jack. Why don’t you go downstairs?”
    Jack nods and turns to leave, then comes back and leans over Silver, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead.
    “Now I know I’m dying,” Silver says with a grin.
    “Fuck you.”
    “I’ll see you on the other side.”
    “OK.”
    Jack looks at him for a long minute, then turns abruptly and leaves the room. Oliver smiles apologetically. “He’s just worried about you.”
    “I know.”
    “I’m not going to kiss you.”
    “I appreciate that.”
    Oliver pats his leg. “We’ll be waiting downstairs.”
    Silver is momentarily overcome and has to look away as Oliver leaves the room.
    * * *
    And