The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley by Shaun David Hutchinson

The Five Stages of Andrew Brawley by Shaun David Hutchinson

Author:Shaun David Hutchinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse


The ER has moods, and tonight it’s bored.

Jo leans against the nurse’s station with half a jelly doughnut hanging out of her mouth, staring at me like I just told her that the world is going to end in thirty seconds.

“What?”

Maybe it was a bad idea to mention that I’m never going to let Rusty die. But I said it, and now I have to deal.

Emma goes about her business, restocking the exam rooms and making sure that everything is in its place. Sometimes I wonder what her house looks like. Does she outline the position of every item in her home so that, if anything moves while she’s gone, she’ll instantly know? Or is she a closet slob? Some people are like that. They show one face to the world and keep the other hidden. Like Death and Miss Michelle.

“Steven says that boy’s doing good,” Jo says. “But burns are tricky, Drew. Gotta be careful of infections. If death takes that poor, sweet boy, there ain’t nothing you can do to stop it.”

I sit on one of the wheeled stools and spin in slow, small circles. The ER has been quiet all night, which is partly disappointing and partly a relief. We’ve only had two patients in the last ninety minutes. One was a guy who cut his thumb while slicing onions—he needed two whole stitches—and the other was a woman complaining of stomach cramps. She’s still in exam 4 waiting for someone to wheel her away for an ultrasound. Occasionally I hear her groaning from across the hall, but I’ve mastered the art of blocking out other people’s pain.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I say to Jo. I know who Death is, and I’ll keep her away from Rusty with a baseball bat if necessary. But Jo keeps giving me funny looks, and if she asks too many questions, I could be in serious trouble. It was hectic that first night I came to the ER, and no one paid me any mind, seeing as my mom and dad and baby sister were dying all over the place. It was easy for me to vanish, but it’s still possible that Jo, or any of the nurses, caught a glimpse of me. And I could accidentally trigger that hidden fragment of a memory if I’m not careful.

“It’s commendable, what you’re doing for that boy,” Emma says as she comes out from behind one of the eggshell-colored curtains. She’s looking flirty tonight, like she came straight to work from a bar. “But I think what Jo is trying to tell you is not to get too close.”

Jo finishes devouring the other half of her jelly doughnut. “Don’t tell me what I’m trying to say. I know what I mean to say, and I think I said it well enough for the boy to get my meaning.”

Emma shrugs and moves on to arranging the charts so that they’re flush with the edge of the desk. She doesn’t look Jo in the eyes—the



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