My left hand supported my head, my right one was on the table, tapping rhythmically, and my intense gaze was on the doctor. The doctor, Brandon, was seeing everything but meeting my stare, rubbing his forehead in frustration. He was sweating a little, irrespective of the fact that the AC was on. I don't know why.
The doctor cleared his throat a few times. At last, he thought to bless my dad and me by opening his mouth. How generous of him. "Can you wait outside?" It was directed to me, which came in a low, humble, and almost pleading voice. Anyone would have melted, but not me. I arched an eyebrow at him. This man should really reconsider his profession. "Just get over with it; one way or another, he will come to know." My dad, Bradly Morris, barked those words. The doctor sighed, glaring at my father.
The doctor's attention was on me. Once again, he cleared his throat before speaking. "Dante, the result is the same; there are no changes. The recent doctor who conducted a few tests on you concluded the same. I am sorry, but I will keep trying." He averted his eyes immediately once he was done with his rattle. I don't know how many doctors he made us consult, and he made me go through the same bloody tests. At the end of the day, he always made sure to give the same answer.
I want to kill him, or at least I want to stab him and make sure to leave some mark on his body so that he can remember me forever. How do I love to do that? 'Act, think, and behave like a bloody kid,' my dad's slogan of the decade came to mind. The doctor is lucky; I will prolong my plan until his lucky days come to an end.
"Dante, sometimes, things will be beyond science." I abruptly stood from the chair, and in the process, made sure the chair fell on the ground. Why the hell is this person a famous physician? It's beyond me. I am so done with his bullshit. I stormed out of his cabin, cursing him wholeheartedly.
"Easy there." Brandon gulps the water in one go after my son made sure to pull some stunt in the cabin. Poor guy, Brandon, I sighed. My son sat down on the chair that was placed in front of the cabin, glaring at everything by clenching his fist.
I watched my son through the glass, who downcast his gaze, glaring at the floor. Brandon stood beside me. "Are you sure that one is your sperm?" His voice came in low, still, and horrified. "My wife would come and kill me from the grave. If I doubt her even after doing a DNA." Brandon faces me. "Did you do a DNA test on your own son?" I glared at him. "Look at him, I gesture with my hand and point to my son. Can you blame me?" I pointed to myself. What do you expect? He never acted like a kid, not even for a day, always glaring at the world, frowning, and God knows why." By chuckling, he nodded his head.
"He is terrifying, and he is damn 12. I hate when sweat always creeps out in the presence of your son." I took a long breath at the statement. "You are giving him the same answer after making him go through the lengthy process. He is frustrated." I pointed out. "As you both can see, I am doing everything. Something doesn't make sense even to the doctor, trust me." I flared my nose at that. "Yeah, I agree with you; something doesn't make sense, including him turning out to be my sperm." We both chuckled at that.
I gave my complete attention to Brandon and spoke. "Please do something; he is suffering too much." Bradon removed his specs in frustration. This was the only case that he couldn't solve, and it's been nearly seven years. "I am really trying my best, doing everything, contacting other professional, reputed doctors, but,the outcome is the same. I finished for him, to which he groaned. "He has been listening to the same bullshit since the age of five. You are making him go through so many tests; each doctor would ask him the same question, repeating the procedure, but the result is the same."
"I know, I know, Bradly, and trust me, I know what he is going through. I have watched the videos many times, repeatedly, rewinding, but nothing makes sense." I nod my head. "Sleeping pills hardly do anything for him.""He is too young to consume any, but I still recommended him. I can't do anything beyond that." I know, Brandon is doing everything that he can, but no result. That's frustrating.
"He is too sleep deprived, and he is getting used to it. Thanks to you." Brandon pushed me harshly. "Asshole don't be sarcastic all over me. I am bloody doing everything. Your son is always my priority." "I know, it's crushing to see him like that." He started to rub his forehead. "I thought by this time, you were used to it." "I am getting there, not quite reached yet. I still doubt him, you know, even after getting a positive result. He never smiles and hardly speaks. He is 12, I heard only a handful of words from his mouth. That everlasting frown on his face." Brandon snorted at that. "God, he is always on the verge of destroying the world." I huffed when I finished my complaining.
"There is no bonding between us. I don't know where I went wrong." "Probably you didn't spend much time with him when he was a child." "That too, the sudden death of my wife, the company, and the mafia—everything was on my shoulders to run. I ignored him, but not completely. He is not easy to deal with, trust me." Brandon snorted at that; I know, particularly at my last sentence. I spoke. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying I am not easy to deal with? You hit on me on our first appointment, and I made sure that we ended up in bed on the next day itself. I am pretty much easy, thank you very much." Brandon's hands were on my mouth, shutting it. "Don't shout; that's not the proud thing to say it loud, you idiot." I removed his hands with a hurt face. I spoke. "You are not proud of me; that hurts like hell." He rolled his eyes at that. "Your son is already killing me by giving a deadly glare. Please don't make sure that I am dead by pouring more on his flame." I chuckled at that. "Do you think he doesn't know about us?" He was buffaloed, and his eyes went wide at the revelation. "What? He knows." "Of course, you are handsome, and I am a widower; that's a catch, and he knows I am good at these things." "Please shut up." I chuckled, and once again, my gaze was on my son, who was in the same position.
"What next?" I have asked Brandon a billion times. Brandon pinched the bridge of his nose. He started wiping his specs, thinking about my question. He always does that when he doesn't know the answer or is thinking too deeply. "Relax, I am not asking you to marry me." By smiling, he punched my shoulder lightly. Redness crept a little; this man and his shyness at this age, and when he is still married. Unbelievable. "Shut up. I want to live for a few more years to look after my wife and my children." He wore the specs, back in doctor mode. "I will do some more research; this time, I will try to approach it a different way. I will consult the other famous physicians. There will not be a limit to boundaries this time; hope for the best." I sighed at that. "I am telling you once again, there will be something beyond science. Or probably your sins are following him like a curse." I pushed Brandon at that. "A curse is following him for sure, trust me, not because of me. I am a believer of karma and all other bullshit." "Yeah, whatever, like I care. I am repeating the same thing, but I can't help it when there is no result. I will do my best. Please don't bring your son next time; it's my sincere request." I rolled my eyes at his fear of a 12-year-old boy.
"He is damn patient; please make sense sometimes." "Hey, don't blame me; sometimes he is too much to handle. Without opening his mouth, he speaks everything. He has mastered that art, and that's terrifying." "You are an adult, and he is a kid." "Well, the chair that was outside screeched louder. We turned simultaneously, and my son stood there facing us with a glare. That was my clue to go, and he has reached his limit for the day. "Please take him before he does something." Brandon was shaken a little bit. I am done reminding him, that Dante is just a kid. Anyone will believe my words if a kid acts like one.
I bid goodbye to Brandon and walked out of his cabin. My son was already walking, and I ran and walked to join his footsteps. 'This kid.' I huffed for the umpteenth time.