The Between Years

co-workers for how perfectly we were treated on such an awful night. Of course, we couldn't be bothered with anything that would break our attention away from our worry over Kenny. That included books that Randy and I would normally keep with us while waiting anywhere.

    And so we waited, sitting hunched over our laps. My appetite had been abolished and I felt like my insides were ready to melt. After an hour (I figured, but it sure felt like longer) a man in a tie and white lab coat appeared at the end of the hall and waved us over. Randy squeezed my hand as we hauled ourselves off the hard plastic chairs and approached him. The man had greying hair and a beard and his face was deadpan. I expected him to tell us that Kenny's condition was serious but that he'd been saved and was out of the woods.

    He stuck his hand out. “Dr. Heatherman. Please, let's have a seat in the other room.” The corners of his mouth lifted into a small smile then his free hand ushered us into a dark room with a table. When he switched the light on, the florescent bulb above buzzed, and somehow accentuated my exhaustion.

    Taking the heavy footsteps of a man who's been at work far too long, Heatherman sat on the opposite side of the table. Randy and I sat in red chairs that were too small for us and felt harder than the ones in the waiting room. The doctor reached across the table as if to hold our hands, but reserved himself.

    “ I won't waste any time in breaking the news to you folks.” His voice sounded cracked. “In spite of our greatest efforts, we weren't able to revive Kenny. I'm so sorry.”

    Randy bit his lip but said nothing. The words glazed over me and I couldn't force a reaction however badly I wanted to.

    “ Did he even have a chance to make it?”

    Heatherman exhaled. “The deck was stacked against him from the get go. He was pronounced dead shortly after he arrived here. The paramedics tried to revive him in the ambulance, but were unsuccessful. I understand you did a valiant job in trying to stabilize the situation.”

    Randy bowed his head.

    “ How could something like this have happened?” I asked. “I know it was freezing cold and everything, but we did everything we could to keep him warm. We bundled him up in his winter jacket, a toque, extra blankets-”

    “ What may have happened to Kenny is what we call Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Sometimes it can occur if the baby is sleeping in the wrong position, but it can also happen if a child is bundled up too much. Mind you, that's just a theory and I don't want you to blame yourself. You did the best you could. More parents should be as caring as you and your husband.”

    “ Does this happen to very many children?” I asked.

    “ Sometimes children are born with sleep apnea, which can be devastating to anyone's health if it goes undetected and untreated. But we're willing to perform a full autopsy if you want us to. I'm so sorry for your loss.”

    And I think the doctor genuinely meant it, but nothing could console me at that moment. I felt suspended in time and like my limbs had been packed in ice.

    “ Will you want an autopsy, Mrs. Fuller?” Heatherman asked.

    I shook my head without consulting Randy. Then I glanced over at him and he shook his head as well.

    “ Maybe that gives people peace of mind,” I said, “but I don't think knowing what took our Kenny from us is going to change anything.”

    Heatherman took a moment to examine himself. “Ordinarily I'd advise you that you'll need to contact a funeral home, see to some practical matters, but people in your situation can't be rushed. So please, take your times. Besides, we won't be able to get anyone in here until tomorrow at the earliest.”

    “ Does this mean we can see Kenny again?” I asked. “One final time?”

    Randy pumped my hand at the question. After everything he'd been through, he must have been desperate for sleep, for peace, for a moment to cry. His adrenaline surge would certainly fizzle out soon and a harsh reality would strike home like a hook to the gut. What would the sight of his dead son do to him?

    Heatherman said, “If you're up to it, I can take you to see Kenny any time.”

    Feebly, I nodded and the doctor took my other hand.

    During the slow walk down the corridor, I felt like my legs had turned into 2x4's. I worried I couldn't face what I was about to see. Moreover, I was scared the sight would be stamped into my memory forever.

    At the end of