![]() Glancing furtively at each other, they rise in unison and leave. They flinch slightly at the cold fear inflecting my voice, then shake their heads in agreement. The room seems to grow dimmer and dimmer and the faces of these men who choose to mandate life and death are a blur. Peluso, why don't you come with us now and look at the x-rays,” says the third doctor, sitting closest to the door. “No,” I say, my voice sounding calm and detached-someone else's voice. “You may as well let us disconnect the life support machines,” another one adds. “I'm sorry,” one of them says, “there's nothing we can do.” It is the looks on their faces that I will always remember. They introduce themselves, one by one, but their names wash over me unheard. The door swishes shut, entombing me with these harbingers of death, who sit in a semi-circle about ten feet from me-as if getting too close might somehow contaminate them. The doctors stride into the emergency waiting room, nodding curtly to neighbors and friends, indicating that they want them to leave. And she says you never listen to her, so I hafta tell you that she doesn’t want me to play in the street with the big boys no more.” “Never mind, she’s sitting right in the seat next to you. ![]() ![]() “Brandon, I can’t see anything but the sky.” “Right there in the clouds-can’t you see her?” “Oh, Mom! There she is,” Brandon says with a big grin on his face. ![]()
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