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“Come on, Mom!” Charlie yelled, his hockey bag slung over his shoulder and his stick in hand. He tugged on his mom’s sleeve, urging her towards their car, parked just a mere ten feet away in the rink parking lot.
The Ducks had just won the playoffs against the Hawks, but Charlie’s excitement was overridden with worry, for he had finally realized and processed the severity of what had happened to Banks.
He had hit his head so hard on the goal post making that shot that he blacked out. Charlie was twelve and old enough to know that impacts like that can lead to a variety of severe problems.
“I’m coming, Charlie. Hold on.” Casey Conway gently took her arm out of Charlie’s grip, and turned back to Coach Bombay, who she’d been talking to. “Are you headed to the hospital?” She asked and Charlie inwardly groaned in frustration.
“I think so,” Coach Bombay said, his gaze shifting to a very restless-looking Charlie at Casey’s side. “I think you’d better leave now before he decides to take a bus or something,” Gordon reached to ruffle Charlie’s hair.
Charlie was too worried about Adam to really care about his hair, though, and didn’t even try to swat his coach’s hand away. He just wanted to get to the hospital and make sure Banksie was okay.
Casey laughed and leaned in to press her lips to Gordon’s cheek. “I’ll see you there.” Gordon smiled, but Charlie couldn’t help but interrupt the small moment between them. They didn’t have time for this!
“Mom!” Charlie tried, grabbing onto her sleeve again. “Let’s go!” Casey finally obliged and Charlie let go, rushing to the car to put his things in the trunk. He was already in the front seat with his seatbelt strapped on when Casey shut her door.
“You’re really worried, huh?” Casey asked, the realization of how strong her son’s anxiety was evident in her expression.
Charlie sighed, exasperated. “Yes, mom! He blacked out.” Why did he even have to explain this?
Casey studied her son for a moment longer before shaking her head slightly, deciding not to pry, and turned the ignition.
Forty-five minutes later, they finally arrived at the hospital. Charlie had spent the whole drive imagining all sorts of different scenarios of the state Adam could be in. It had made his anxiety much worse, but he couldn’t seem to help it.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and rushed out of the car before Casey even fully stopped. She opened her mouth to yell at him for being so reckless, but he had already slammed the door.
Charlie was inside waiting impatiently by the reception desk when Casey caught up to him.
“Charlie, slow down.” She pleaded with a sigh, then turned her attention to the nurse manning the desk. “Hi,” Casey smiled. “Would you help us find the room of a friend? He was admitted maybe two hours ago or so.”
“Of course,” the nurse smiled understandingly. “His name?” She typed into the computer then paused, waiting for Casey’s answer.
“Adam Banks.”
“Adam Banks…” the nurse repeated, trailing off as she typed into the computer again. “He’s in Room 157, in the Peds wing on the second floor.”
“Thank you!” Casey said, rushing to catch up to Charlie, who’d already started towards the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator.
Charlie heard his mom call after him, but he didn’t turn back. Banksie was in Room 157, and he had to be okay. Charlie didn’t know what he would do with himself if he was anything less.
He ignored everyone who yelled after him to slow down until he found the right room, and skidded to a stop in the doorway. “Adam,” Charlie said, his voice a huff of air. He panted to catch his breath.
“Charlie?” Adam questioned, his voice quiet and slightly hoarse, like he’d just woken up. He sat up slowly in his hospital bed, dressed in a thin-looking hospital gown. “What are you doing here?”
Charlie felt a rush of relief flood his body and he thought he might collapse. He hadn’t realized exactly how worried he had worked himself up to be.
“You’re okay.” Charlie breathed out a heavy sigh and moved to stand at Adam’s bedside.
“Yeah,” Adam confirmed, a look of confusion lingering on his face. “They took me for a head CT as a precaution, and luckily nothing was too bad. Just a real bad concussion.”
‘Just a real bad concussion.’ Charlie let the words settle in his mind. “Thank god.” He said.
Adam studied his friend, eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out what was going on inside his head. It had become inherently easier to do since the start of the season as the two had become closer, the only downside being Charlie was also better at reading him.
However, Adam was too overwhelmed and his brain was too sluggish at the moment for him to be able to make much of Charlie’s worry. Charlie didn’t really understand the extent of it himself. He knew that he needed Adam to be okay, though not exactly why. He decided to chalk it up to him being one of his best friends.
“You worried?” Adam asked, even though it was obvious Charlie had been. He figured maybe if he asked, Charlie would also add why.
“Yeah,” Charlie said, a slight playful scoff to his voice, as if he couldn’t believe Adam could think Charlie wouldn’t be worried. “You hit your head so hard you passed out! You’ve heard all those things about brain bleeds and stuff, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” Adam said softly as he reached for Charlie’s hand. He squeezed it lightly and waited a moment for Charlie to meet his eyes. “I’m okay,” He assured him, his tone insistent. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Charlie nodded. He expected Adam to let go of his hand, but he didn’t. Charlie wasn’t sure he wanted him to. He also expected Adam to look away, but he kept on studying his face, and Charlie was starting to get lost in the endless sea of Adam’s eyes.
‘Have there always been those darker flecks of blue around his pupil?’ Charlie thought. He found that they made Adam’s eyes prettier than anyone else’s he’d seen before.
Fast-paced footsteps approached from outside and both boys jumped at the sudden noise, and Adam let go of Charlie’s hand.
“Charlie!” Casey exclaimed, entering the room. She had a stern look on her face and Charlie knew he was in for it. “You cannot run away from me like that in a hospital! I do not care how worried you were; you stay by my side.”
Then, Casey took a deep breath and turned to a slightly wide-eyed Adam with a soft smile, her tone shifting to one that was far less stern. “Adam, honey,” she stepped forward to press her hand to the boy’s forehead. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, Ms. Conway. Just a concussion. There shouldn’t be any permanent damage.” Adam assured her.
“That’s a relief. I’m glad you’re okay.” Casey held a more playful tone with her next words, “I don’t know what Charlie would have done if you were anything less. He was really worried about you.”
“Mom!” Charlie whisper-shouted and groaned quietly from behind his mother, embarrassed. Adam laughed lightly.
“I think I caught that, Ms. Conway.” Adam eyed Charlie with a smile. Charlie couldn’t help but shoot him a smile of his own.
“Where is your dad, Adam?” Casey asked, only now noticing that Phillip Banks wasn’t in the room with his son. Charlie hadn’t fully processed the fact either.
For a reason he didn’t quite know, he was suddenly very glad that Mr. Banks hadn’t witnessed the… moment between him and his son, for lack of a better word.
“I think he went to talk to one of the nurses about us staying for observation.” Adam said, but Casey still looked a bit confused so he continued. “The neurologist wanted me to stay the night so they could monitor me just as a precaution, since I lost consciousness when I hit my head. My father doesn’t want me to stay because it interferes with work if he has to be here, too. Especially since it’s only a concussion.”
Casey pursed her lips, looking as if she was biting back a remark or two. Charlie didn’t understand how Phillip could care so much about work when his son was in the hospital.
Personally, Charlie was glad it was a Saturday, so he didn’t have to go to school tomorrow. He couldn’t imagine he would be able to focus very well with the knowledge that Adam was here. Permanent damage or no, a concussion was still serious.
“Would you like us to keep you company until he gets back?” Casey asked. Charlie thought that it was a good idea. Adam seemed to think so, too, by the way his eyes lit up.
“You would do that?” He asked. “He may be a while.” It dawned on Charlie how alone Adam must’ve felt earlier: injured and in the hospital, while his father was out trying to interrupt his son’s recovery for his own convenience. A weird mix of anger and sadness settled in his stomach at the thought of Adam’s father being so self-centered and selfish.
“Of course, Banksie.” Charlie told him, as he shot him a smile and forced down his anger. He gently pushed past his mom to get back to his friend’s bedside and put a comforting hand on Adam’s shoulder.
“Thanks, Charlie. Ms. Conway.” Adam smiled gratefully. Charlie was about to make a joke, but suddenly Adam groaned, his eyes squeezed shut as his face contorted in pain. “Ow,” he whispered, holding his head in his hands.
“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked immediately, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Adam squinted at him, about to answer, but another wave of pain rolled through his head. He groaned again.
“Headache,” Adam managed through gritted teeth after the pain died down slightly. Charlie frowned and Casey started towards the door.
“I’ll see if I can get a nurse to help,” she said before disappearing down the hall. Charlie rubbed his friend’s arm as he silently writhed in the pain of his headache, feeling frustrated and helpless. Tears pricked out of the corner of Adam’s eyes and Charlie became quite angry with himself for not being able to do anything to help.
“I’m sorry, Ads,” Charlie said, the new nickname for his friend slipping out without much thought. Adam didn’t rotest, though, like he did whenever somebody called him Cake-Eater, so Charlie thought it was okay. Or he was just in too much pain to care. Charlie figured it could easily be either one.
“Don’t be, Charlie,” Adam muttered through his teeth, wincing. “It wasn’t you who gave me the concussion.” Maybe that was true, but it didn’t make Charlie feel any less helpless.
Then he remembered one of the big triggers for concussion headaches: light. Charlie quickly moved to the switch by the door to turn off the fluorescent lights overhead.
“Is that any better?” Charlie asked as he walked back over to Adam’s side, this time sitting on the edge of the bed. Adam took his time carefully opening his eyes, and nodded.
“Yeah,” he whispered, a bit surprised by how much the pain in his head had lessened without the bright lights. “Thank you.”
Charlie smiled softly and nodded. “I’m glad I was able to help at least a bit.”
He couldn’t stand watching Adam wallow in so much pain, or any of his friends at that. He guessed Bombay may not have been entirely wrong making him Captain like he’d originally thought.
He was better at coaching than playing, but he cared about the team.
Maybe the captain didn’t always have to be the best player on the team… maybe they just had to help others do their best.
Or maybe he was overthinking all of this. One or the other.
“Adam?” Casey walked back into the room trailed by a man in dark green scrubs over a grey long-sleeve shirt and a pair of black sneakers. He held a small plastic cup in one hand and a paper condiment cup in the other.
He moved to Adam’s bedside, opposite of Charlie. “Tylenol.” He said as he handed the paper cup to Adam. Inside was a small white pill. “It should help with the headache.” He handed him the plastic cup, filled halfway with water.
“And I see that you turned the lights off.” The nurse said, taking the cups back from Adam when he was done. “That’s good. Stay away from tv and video games, too. It can worsen the recovery process.”
Adam nodded, looking the opposite of eager. “Can’t wait for a month of doing absolutely nothing,” He mumbled sarcastically.
The nurse smiled, patting Adam’s shoulder before walking back to the door. “It’ll be over quicker than you think. Don’t worry.” Adam nodded and thanked him.
The nurse quickly looked over Adam’s vitals before he left. Once he was gone, Adam looked back to Charlie expectantly.
“So, tell me about the rest of the game,” he impored, shifting in the hospital bed to fully face Charlie.
Charlie could tell Adam was tired. His eyelids were heavy and drooping with sleep, from the game and concussion combined. Despite that, he still looked as if the anticipation would kill him.
After a moment of hesitation, Charlie relented and pulled a chair over to his bedside.
“Okay. So…” Charlie summarized the game dramatically, as though he were telling Adam a story about the most epic battle ever.
Adam hung onto Charlie’s every word. And when Charlie recounted the winning penalty shot, his face lit up with pride.
In all of his rambling, Charlie forgot that his mother was sitting behind him. She was so quiet, watching him and Adam with a small smile on his face.
It wasn’t until she cleared her throat, when Charlie was just about done, that he remembered she was there.
Charlie, slightly startled, paused mid-sentence and met Casey’s warm gaze.
“Charlie, hon,” Casey said in a low tone, “maybe let Adam rest now?”
Charlie realized Adam was practically asleep now.
Adam grumbled something incoherent at Casey’s suggestion, a halfhearted protest, but exhaustion overtook his tongue.
Charlie nodded in agreement, looking back at Adam curled up in the hospital bed. He looked peaceful, in less pain at least. Charlie could tell him the final bit of the story after the winning goal later.
For now, Charlie pulled the thin blankets up over Adam’s shoulders and sat back in the hard plastic chair. There, he watched him sleep. Not in a creepy way, but in anticipation.
Ready to jump up and help as soon as Adam said the word.
Charlie may not have been able to prevent the injury, or take the pain away from him, but he could be there for him.
He didn’t have to be so helpless after all.
‘Sometimes,’ Charlie realized as he watched Adam’s chest rise and fall steadily with each breath he took, ‘all you need is support.’