The Last Encounter

The elevator ride was the longest of his life. Ever since he was a young boy, Evan had to watch his father struggle with this ugly illness. And, finally, it seemed like he had beaten it for good.

As he rose past the floors; one, two, three, four; he couldn't help but admire the island's beauty. The elevator's glass-paned rear wall revealed the sprawling tropical landscape. At least the world-leading hospital specializing in his father's illness was on a picturesque island straight out of a movie. Though the procedure had an 85% success rate, Evan couldn't help but worry about his father. The island, however, helped occupy his roaming mind. Surfing. Exploring. Sandcastles. All of these distracted him from the life-or-death situation before his dad. The second he heard that his father had woken up out of surgery, he ran faster than the speed of light. Now only if the elevator would go just as quickly. As he approached Room 501, Evan saw the greatest gift he could've asked for: his father was awake.

"Nice jersey there, kiddo," Evan's dad exclaims to the boy.

Evan had been wearing his father's signature Joe Montana jersey, the one that his father had since he was a kid. He hoped it would raise his spirits; thankfully, it seemed to pay off. After filling his father in on the adventures the island had offered him, Evan excused himself to use the restroom. After relieving himself and walking back to the hospital room, he couldn't help but have a strut in his step. His father was finally healthy.

A flurry of nurses and doctors runs past Evan. He wasn't worried. Initially. However, a creep of anxiety snuck into his psyche as the healthcare workers sprinted further down the corridor. This creep turned into a full-fledged panic as they turned into what seemed to be his father's room. A nervous jog escalates to a dash to the room as he spots the 501 marking.

As he reaches his father's room, he spies his dad convulsing over a nurse's shoulder, with the heart monitor beeping like it's going to explode. Evan tries to run to his dad's side, but two nurses hold him back.

"We can't have anyone else in the room. The doctors need everyone out of the way so they can do their job," one of the two nurses shouts to the boy.

Tears swell in his eyes. He couldn't bear the sight. Evan turns towards the elevator and mashes the lobby button: he had to get out of there.

Evan finally lets his anger, fear, and overwhelming sadness take over on the shoreline. A now unstoppable stream of tears runs down his face. He grips his legs tightly in the fetal position and buries his head in his knees in shame.

Men don't cry. Get it together, Evan, the boy thinks to himself.

Suddenly, a football lands next to him.

"Sorry!" Evan hears from a distance.

He doesn't dare look up. The figure approaches him in pursuit of the football.

"Is everything okay?' the person asks.

From his voice, this kid must be my age; I can't possibly let him see me cry, Evan thinks internally.

"Everything is wonderful," he replies.

"Are you sure? You look sad. Want to talk about it?" the other kid inquires.

He has to get it off his chest. He needs someone to talk to.

"Actually, my father is in the hospital and isn't doing too hot," Evan responds truthfully.

"Oh, that's a bummer. I hope he makes it through," the kid replies.

The kid plops down next to Evan, resting his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"You know, I'm going through something similar. My family and I have been here for almost a month. My mother is currently seeking treatment and seems to do better one day and relapse the next. I've had my fair share of tears; it helps to cry it out," the kid reveals.

Evan is shocked by this confession. Why would someone air this out, especially to a stranger, no less? He stays silent for a minute, not daring to break his hardened exterior.

He keeps his face buried in his lap

"How is she doing today?" Evan questions.

"She's doing better today. The doctors are saying we can leave by the end of the week," the kid responds with a relieved tone.

Will his father share the same fate? Will his family be the same after today? These hopelessly bleak questions cause his exterior to collapse, and a wave of tears follows.

"You know what helps me get through this tough time? Remembering all of the good times we had together," the kid explains.

Evan's tears can't stop.

"Remember the times when he was the only one you could talk to. Remember the times that your dad took you to football games. Remember the time that he got you that Playstation for Christmas that you wanted so badly. Remember the stupid goodbye he would say every morning before you left for school, the one that secretly put a smile on your face even though you had heard it a thousand times," the kid reminds him.

Evan's face turns to one of happiness and then confusion.

Wait, how did this kid know all of these things? I haven't known him for more than five minutes, Evan thinks.

The kid gets up.

"Never forget them. See you later, kiddo," the kid says.

That's exactly what dad said… Evan thinks with shock.

Evan finally looks up and sees a trail of footsteps left in the sand that suddenly stop in the middle of the beach.

The heart monitor flatlines.