Dangerous to Know & Love (44 page)

But the back of the house was equally dark, silent and locked against them. Just to be certain, Lisanne sent Daniel a text saying that she was outside. There was no response.

“What do you want to do?” asked Kirsty.

Car headlights strafed beams of light across the street, and there was the distinctive sound of metal grinding on metal.

“That’s my fucking car!” shouted Kirsty, running out to the front.

The rear bumper was hanging off, and one tail light had been shattered, the glass crunching under Zef’s boots as he staggered toward them. His own vehicle was abandoned at a crazy angle, half on and half off the sidewalk.

“Well, fuck me,” he sneered, “you’ve got a fucking nerve turning up here.”

“You trashed my car, you fucking asshole!” yelled Kirsty.

“Who’s your friend?” jeered Zef, “she’s got balls… and great tits.”

“Shut up, Zef! Where’s Daniel? I need to speak to him.”

“You’re asking me? That’s fucking funny.”

Lisanne pushed her finger into Zef’s chest. “Where is he?!”

He straightened up and stared down at her.

For the first time Lisanne realized how dangerously angry Zef really was. And drunk. Very drunk.

“Do you care?” he said, his voice a low growl. “Do you? Because
my
little brother
is in hospital having a fucking hole drilled in his skull, because
you
made him feel like he wasn’t good enough. Bitch.”

Lisanne gasped and her hand flew to her mouth.

Zef tossed his empty beer can at Kirsty’s car and crashed through the door of his house, cursing loudly.

Kirsty tugged on her arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

Lisanne shook her head. “I have to find him, Kirsty.”

“But we don’t know which hospital he’s in. God knows how many there are in the city limits. And I don’t think his charmless brother is going to tell us.”

But Lisanne was determined. “Then I’ll just call every hospital until I find him.”

They drove back to the dorm room, all thoughts of packing or leaving aborted. Each of them fired up their laptops and made a list of hospitals to call, dividing the task between them.

Their plan was to pretend to be Daniel’s cousin and then play it by ear, fingers firmly crossed behind their backs.

They’d crossed off two hospitals each, and Kirsty was on her third call when she suddenly gesticulated wildly at Lisanne.

“Yeah, my cousin, that’s right. His brother, um, Zef, gave me this number, but he forgot to say… oh, I see. No, that’s fine. Thank you.”

She hung up and stared at Lisanne. “He’s in surgery now,” she whispered, her voice strangled.

“Oh God! I’m too late.”

The list of numbers fluttered from Lisanne’s fingers, and as the tears trickled down her face, her lungs desperately tried to pull in gulping breaths.

She wanted to go to him – she had to go to him. She stood up abruptly.

“I need to call a cab!”

Kirsty grabbed her hands. “I’ll drive you. Don’t worry about that. But you should call your parents. They’d want to know.”

“But…”

“Call your mom.”

She picked up Lisanne’s phone and handed it to her.

It rang twice before her mother answered.

“Hi, honey! This is a nice surprise. How are…”

“Mommy!” Lisanne gulped out the word between sobs.

Immediately her mother heard the distress in her voice.

“Lisanne! What’s happened? Are you alright?”

Lisanne shook her head, unable to speak.

“Lisanne! Lisanne!”

“Mommy, it’s Daniel,” she gasped.

Her mother’s voice became cautious.

“What about Daniel?”

“He’s… he’s…”

“What? Has he hurt you?”

Lisanne could hear her father’s anxious voice in the background.

“Daniel’s in hospital.”

There was a long pause.

“What happened? Is he alright?”

“He’s…”

But the tears were falling too fast for her to speak coherently. She sobbed into the phone, clutching it tightly as if the small piece of plastic held a solution.

“Lisanne, sweetheart, take a deep breath. Try to tell me – what’s happened to Daniel?”

Struggling to control her tears, Lisanne pulled in some shuddering breaths.

“Mommy, he’s gone to have surgery. He’s having a cochlear implant… they have to cut into his skull… they have to…”

The words choked in her throat.

Her mother’s confused voice was quiet at the other end.

“I thought… you said he didn’t want anything to do with those implants. I thought he’d decided…”

“He had!” wept Lisanne. “He hated them! He didn’t want to have anything to do with them! He said they were ugly and unnatural and he couldn’t imagine why anyone would voluntarily ask to have a piece of metal shoved into their heads! He said
that –
it’s all my fault!”

“I don’t understand – why did he change his mind?”

“He… he said he wanted to hear me sing!” she cried.

The phone was silent.

“Oh, my poor darling,” said her mother, and Lisanne wasn’t sure if she was talking about Daniel or herself. “We’ll be there in three hours. Hold on until then. Daddy and I will be there.”

Kirsty put off all plans of leaving and insisted on driving her to the hospital. Lisanne was so grateful her friend was there. At first they couldn’t find anyone to tell them anything, but then Kirsty used the lawyer voice that her father had taught her, and they were finally able to talk to someone.

The nurse was an older woman with a sympathetic yet calm, professional air.

“Yes, I can confirm that Daniel Colton is being treated here,” she said. “Are you relatives of his?”

“Yes,” said Kirsty.

“No,” said Lisanne at the same time.

“She’s his girlfriend,” Kirsty admitted quietly.

The nurse took in Lisanne’s red-rimmed eyes and haunted expression.

“I see. I can only relay confidential information to his family.”

“I’m his cousin,” said Kirsty.

The nurse smiled. “Well, I’m glad to see Daniel has some… family who will be able to take care of him during his recovery. I’ve met his brother…”

Her smile fell away and she frowned.

“Is he alright? Daniel, can I see him?”

“I’m sorry, no. He’s still in surgery. They’ve only just taken him in. This sort of procedure takes two to three hours.”

She examined their worried faces.

“It’s quite a standard operation these days and he’s a fit young man. We would normally expect someone to stay in hospital for between one and three days, but it varies from individual to individual. You’re welcome to stay in the waiting room.”

“Thank you,” whispered Lisanne.

The waiting room was relentlessly cheerful, the pale yellow walls covered with posters and children’s drawings, but the chairs were comfortable and there was a water cooler in the corner.

“You should go now, Kirsty,” said Lisanne. “Your parents are expecting you.”

“I’m not leaving you by yourself.”

“My parents will be here in a couple of hours – I’ll be fine.”

“Then I’ll wait for them to get here,” said Kirsty, firmly.

Lisanne didn’t have the energy to argue.

Slow minutes dragged by as they waited, Lisanne’s eyes glued to the door. Kirsty brought her coffee, and held her hand. They didn’t speak.

Two long, slow, anxious hours later, the nurse returned.

“He’s out of surgery and the doctor says it went well. He’ll be in recovery for about an hour.”

“Can I see him?”

“Not yet. When we’ve moved him to his unit.”

Lisanne thanked her again, wiping tears from her eyes.

“See,” said Kirsty, “he’s going to be fine.”

Lisanne nodded, but couldn’t share Kirsty’s optimism. That he’d put himself through this for her sake – it seemed so wrong.

They heard a noise out in the corridor and Lisanne recognized her parents’ voices. She was already on her feet when her mother swept into the room.

She hugged her tightly and whispered soothingly into her hair. Lisanne finally looked up to see her father talking quietly to Kirsty.

“Have you seen him yet?” said Monica.

“No. He’s in recovery and I can’t see him until he’s moved. Soon, I hope.”

“Have you been able to find out anything else?”

Lisanne shook her head. “No, but I saw his brother. He blames me – he says it’s my fault. Mom, I thought he was breaking up with me. He’s been so secretive – now I know why, I just feel so horrible. I
never
wanted him to do this. Why did he do it?”

Her question set off a fresh wave of tears.

“Daniel made his own decision, darling. The doctors obviously thought it was a good idea or they would never have gone ahead with it.”

Kirsty came over to give her a hug. “Will you be okay if I go now? My mom is going crazy that I’ll be driving after dark.” She rolled her eyes. “I told her they’ve invented headlights, but, well, you know.”

“No, that’s fine. Thank you for staying. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. Where else was I going to be? Text me when you’ve got some news?”

Kirsty left after one more quick hug and Lisanne sat down with her mom.

“Where’s dad gone?”

“He went to find a doctor,” said Monica with a fond smile. “He’s gone into ‘dad’ mode. You know how he gets.”

Lisanne forced out a weak smile. Right now, dad mode was exactly what she wanted.

He returned a few minutes later with a tall, thin man in a surgeon’s blue scrubs.

“Good evening. I’m Dr. Palmer, Daniel’s surgeon. I understand you have a few questions. I normally only speak to family members unless otherwise authorized, but I understand that Daniel doesn’t have parents... so, in the circumstances…”

“Could you tell us about the procedure – I’m afraid this is all new to us,” said Ernie. “Daniel didn’t tell us… my daughter is his girlfriend; she’s a music major,” he finished quietly, as if offering an explanation.

A look of understanding mixed with pity passed over the doctor’s face.

“Well, simply put, I have inserted the internal parts of the cochlear implant underneath the skin. The receiver – which we call a stimulator – sits in the bone just behind the ear.” The doctor gestured to his own head. “The electrode array is inserted directly into the cochlea.”

“So when he wakes up he’ll be able to hear?”

“No, not yet. I’ve only fitted the internal parts of the device which includes a small magnet under the skin toward the back of the head. A CI isn’t a hearing aid: it bypasses the damaged hair cells in the cochlea and directly stimulates the auditory nerve. We’ll have to wait between three and six weeks after surgery, to allow any swelling or tenderness around the implant site to subside. Only then can the external parts of the device be fitted. That includes the processor and transmitter.”

“But, he told my daughter that hearing aids didn’t help him?”

“No, an external device by itself wouldn’t offer the level of amplification Daniel needs. And we still can’t tell how successful this operation will be. Typically, it has good results, but nothing is guaranteed,” he re-emphasized.

“But he might be able to hear?” said Lisanne, desperate to understand.

The doctor sighed.

“There is no pre-operative test to determine how much a patient will be able to hear. I wish there were. The range of hearing varies from near normal ability to understand speech, to no benefit at all, and everything in between.
I would hope that Daniel will be able to have some immediate benefits but improvements will continue for about three to nine months after the initial tuning sessions, sometimes for several years. He may even be able to use a telephone; however, I should warn you that not all people who have implants are able to do so. He’ll be able to watch TV more easily, although he may not hear well enough to enjoy music, for example.”

“He… he won’t be able to listen to music?” asked Lisanne, sounding distraught.

The doctor looked at her cautiously.

“Some people who’ve had this procedure enjoy the sound of certain instruments, the piano or guitar, for example, and certain voices, but a band or an orchestra – that is a far more complex range of sounds to be processed. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“What about side effects?” said Monica. “My daughter mentioned that there’s a possibility of injury to the facial nerve?”

“It can happen during surgery, very rarely, but I’m happy to tell you that this is not the case for Daniel.”

Finally some good news, thought Lisanne.

“I would expect Daniel to experience some dizziness or attacks of vertigo, so he won’t be able to drive his car for a while.”

“He doesn’t have a car, he has a motorcycle – a Harley Davidson,” said Lisanne, unable to stop herself from adding the detail that was pointless to everyone except Daniel.

“No, he mustn’t ride that,” said the doctor shuddering, and muttering something under his breath about ‘donor-cycles’ which made Monica look faint.

“Daniel may experience some taste disturbance, but as the surgery went well, I think that’s unlikely. There may be some numbness around his ear…”

“Can… can it be damaged, the implant?” asked Lisanne.

“It’s made from titanium – even harder than Daniel’s skull.”

He saw the expression on her face, and cleared his throat.

“Sorry – doctor’s joke. Until recently we advised against contact sports, for example, but with adequate protection, he should be fine. He mustn’t get the external devices wet, of course, so he’ll have to remove those for showering or swimming.”

“When can he come home?”

“Recovery rates vary, but I’d hope he’ll be feeling well within 12 to 24 hours. Usually we’d expect a patient to go home the next day but I understand Daniel won’t have anyone to look after him…”

When he didn’t receive a response to that, the doctor plowed on.

“…in which case we will encourage him to stay in a second night to aid his recovery. He’ll be given an appointment to have the stitches out in a week, and he’ll be back at school after New Years. That’s why he pushed for surgery before Christmas – he’s a very determined young man. He was lucky to get a slot so quickly – most wait months, but then again most people don’t want their holidays spoiled. Well, if you don’t have any more questions…?”