Mad as a Hatter

“This is for you,” he whispered into Ryan’s ear as they hugged in the airport terminal. “We need to get you better,” Brendon sighed hard and Ryan could feel the tears soaking through his thin shirt. “Do you understand me, Ryan?” His voice was choked. Somehow, Ryan knew this translated to “Can you forgive me, Ryan?” He nodded against the younger boy’s back. His eyes were the ever-present distant stare, but his life was up close at that moment. Today was the day.

“We have to go,” said the nurse that was off to the side. He felt Brendon let go and the airport noises slammed into his face. Suddenly, the voices over the intercom, the knocking of luggage, and the distant sound of jet engines were all screaming in his ears, relentlessly. He looked to Brendon’s brown eyes for help, for silence. All he saw were two bottomless pits of self-loathing, remorse, and worry.

Ryan still didn’t know what to think about this whole thing. The last two weeks had gone by so fast. From France, to the collapse, to the hospital, to the States, to the headlines, to the intervention. Ryan turned back to the nurse. She was going to be his personal counselor over the next couple of weeks. Apparently, he couldn’t be trusted to get on a plane.

“Ready?” she said. She sounded tired or tried. Ryan nodded solemnly.

He looked back to Brendon again. His eyes began to look red and swollen from the holding back of tears. “Be good,” Brendon mouthed with a broken hearted look in his eyes. His breaths were stifled, like he was being strangled. Ryan pursed his lips, not really knowing what emotions he should be feeling. He was a little sad, but mostly frightened of what was to come. Terrified, to be exact.

Ryan boarded his plane, giving a final wave to Brendon. He hugged the window as he watched the plane lift off the runway and into oblivion. The nurse sat next to him. She must have been Haitian or something like that. Her skin was a dark coffee color and she couldn’t have been much over 5’3. She had said her name was Shirley or Sarah or something like that. Ryan really didn’t care that much, even if she would be one of the only people he saw the next couple weeks.

“I like you,” she said randomly. She didn’t bother turning her face. “You don’t talk much.”

“Not quite yet, no,” Ryan whispered. His vocal chords felt like they hadn’t been used in years. Ryan saw the food cart coming through the aisle.

“I’ll be guessing you don’t want anything,” the nurse whispered with a smug grin on her face.

Ryan shook his head and turned towards the window. He put his head against the rough plastic wall and drifted off to sleep.