Page 9 of Tight End

Chapter 3

Sam

Idon’t know how much longer I sit in the chapel after Brixton leaves. Feels like I’ve been in here for hours…days…years, even. But for as much time as I’ve spent in here, it hasn’t done a damn thing to help my brother Chase.

Memories pop between my ears like cracking bullets.

My mind trips back to the day on the football field when I was visiting him at Michigan State. It was just a scrimmage, first of the season. The sun beat down on me as I watched my brother launch his arm back to make a pass. Three guys on the opposing team barreled into him when he tried to stand up, and he crumpled to the ground.

With a throbbing heart, I can still feel the panic flooding my veins, watching him lie motionless on the field. Seconds dragged into minutes. I rose on legs that were wobbly as limp spaghetti noodles as the medical team worked on him.

He’d always been so healthy and strong. One of the best players in the college circuit. How the fuck did his heart just give out without warning?

I ball my hands into fists and slam them on the top of the pew.

Turns out that arrhythmogenic cardiomyopathy, a deadly coronary artery disease, is underdiagnosed and can occur pretty suddenly. He’d had coronary bypass surgery to restore blood flow to the heart but was told his football career was over because the condition raises the likelihood of cardiac arrest and sudden death.

Boom. Just like that. Everything he’d worked for was yanked out from under him.

But he was alive. That was all that mattered. He never let it get him down. He just changed gears and created a new path for himself. Said he wanted to be a pediatric cardiologist so that he could help detect heart disease early in kids so that lives weren’t lost so senselessly. He’d been one of the lucky ones because he was saved. So many times, that’s not the case. He wanted to make a positive change.

He's been working so hard for the past six years to do it.

And according to the team of specialists working on him, he’s not going to make it to the finish line. His heart has gotten too weak despite the best treatments, and he’s now in the end stages of heart failure.

My big brother, the star quarterback, is now lying on his death bed because, short of a miracle and a donor heart, he won’t survive to see the end of the month, much less his residency here in Oakland.

Tears sting my eyes and I drop my head onto my clenched fists.

It’s not fucking fair. Chase doesn’t deserve this. He’s touched so many lives and has the ability to impact so many more. How the hell can we really be here right now, saying goodbye to such a bright and shining star?

“How the fuck can you just snuff out that light?” I growlinto the silence. “How can you take him away from us like this?”

I slouch back against the pew, half-expecting to explode into flames for challenging God’s bullshit plan in his space.

I don’t.

I’m just consumed by the impending doom of what comes next.

Maybe that’s my punishment.

I rise to my feet and scrub a hand down the front of my face. Sometimes I think I’m a coward for coming down here. Yeah, I say I’m here to plead my case with God, but if I’m being honest, I’m also hiding from the devastation that’s damn close to crushing our family.

I can’t run from it anymore. It’ll eventually find me and suck me in.

With a heaviness in my gut, I pull open the chapel door and trudge to the VIP floor. Since this is the hospital Chase is working his residency in, they’ve given him top notch accommodations to make sure he’s comfortable while they scramble for a heart that might not come in time.

When I arrive at his room, I stand in the open doorway, staring at my family.

Mom and Dad sit on either side of Chase’s bed. They each hold one of his pale hands. Mom’s rosary is clutched in her free one. The room is blanketed in a soft glow from the overhead light. No other lamps are on. Tension is thick in the air, Mom’s quiet sobs making my chest ache.

One of the nurses approaches. Her name is Rayleigh but everyone calls her Rae. I turn to look at her. She’s pretty, and usually really perky. Quick with a bright smile and sparkly blue eyes. But tonight, her eyebrows are knitted together, lips are twisted into a frown, and her normally laughing gaze is dulled by sadness.

I take a few steps backward into the hallway. “This is the end, isn’t it.” I pose it as a statement instead of a question.

Rae’s shoulders hunch over. “His sats have been dropping. We’re medicating him, but the damage is too extensive.”

I turn back to my brother. “He needs a heart.”

---