A Change of Heart

Note: This story was an entry for the December 2011 Rising Stars Shining Brighter Contest. To view the contest rules, click on Contest Rules:

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A Change of Heart

By Indelibleink

The fingers tapped nervously on the tray which laid precariously upon the patient's lap. "Nurse..."

Again the fingers resumed the rhythmic tapping for a few seconds, then stopped to search frantically for the call button which was on the bed, somewhere...No, dammit, that's the TV remote! "N-n-n-n-n-nurse..."

The fingers, trying to choke the life out of the remote as if it was to blame for the situation, finally found the call button and threw the remote to the floor, after pushing the button with the fervor of one trying to send out a desperate SOS via Morse code.

"N-N-N-N-N-NURSE!!!"

"What is it this time, Mr. Waterford?"

"I think I felt a twitch in my chest, or something. You realize, Sweetie, I could have died three times over while waiting for you to respond. Do you have any idea who you're dealing with here?"

"I'm very, very aware of who you are, Mr. Waterford. Every nurse, every doctor, every janitor in Deaconess Hospital knows who you are! And trust me...Not one of them wants anything to do with Room 3136!"

The sixty-something year old wealthy business executive eyed Nurse Janice Bannkers warily. "All I have to do is say the word and you're 'history' around here, Lady."

Nurse Janice clutched her hands in a prayer-like display and knelt down next to the crotchety old coot. "Oh, I beg of you, Sir...Please, please, please do everything in your power to make that happen, your royal highness!" She then stood up and, hands on hips, stared down at the startled patient. "The only reason I'm here in the first place is because I drew the short straw. You don't think for a minute anyone would ask for this assignment - working with a charmer like you - do you?"

"Well, in spite of your disrespectful attitude - which I shall see that you pay dearly for - I do admire someone with a little spunk..." That was as close as Bastion E. Waterford ever came to a compliment. The powerfully rich Chief Executive Officer of Waterford Metals Incorporated invariably gauged the worth of a person relative to how he envisioned they might fit in if they were part of his company. Unfortunately, he treated everyone as if they were an underling in his corporate empire; he had a nasty habit of berating and firing people in front of large groups of employees.

"Mr. Waterford, for the forty-seventh time: You have the best heart surgeon in Dr. Knapp, you have two other excellent doctors who check you regularly, plus three other nurses in addition to myself, ordered to give you the very best care possible on God's green earth..."

The old man sneered. "Nothing like a significant donation to the hospital just before surgery to make sure nothing was left to chance."

Janice checked the numerous IV tubes for proper flow. "Now, as far as the twitch in your chest goes, Mr. Waterford, you need to understand that you just underwent a major operation. You just had the most critical organ of your body - which was defective - replaced with a better one. There is always a 'break-in period' while the body adjusts to the new piece of equipment. But you have all these monitors around you which are programmed to alert the doctors and nursing staff if even the slightest variation from the norm occurs."

"Very reassuring. Now, be a good little nurse and get a doctor to get his overpaid rear in here and check me over."

Nurse Janice turned and quickly departed, but seconds later stuck her head back in the door. "You realize, Mr. Waterford, normally the concern after a heart transplant is the body rejecting the donor heart. In your case though, I wouldn't be surprised at all if the heart that's now regrettably trapped inside you realizes where it is and cries out, 'I don't need this', rips open the stitches, and drags its sorry butt right out of your chest, willing to take its chances elsewhere!"

"Very amusing, Nurse Ratched. Now, for the second time, go get somebody who knows what they're doing around here, before I die of neglect."

Realizing the world would probably never be that lucky, Nurse Janice smiled weakly, nodded, and left the room, hoping against hope it would be quite some time before she returned. Of course, she knew better...

Bastion laid back on his pillow, wondering why he - for a brief moment - felt compelled to almost apologize to Nurse Janice. That's never happened before...Must be the medication. 

*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *

"How are you doing today, Father?" The nattily attired young businessman stood nervously at the foot of Bastion's bed, as if he were afraid to get any closer.

The old man pushed what remained of his breakfast to the side and looked up at his son, with the hint of a smile that was quickly replaced with the usual scowl.  "What day is it, Charles?"

"It's December 11, Father, just over two weeks since your transplant..."

"I can still read a calendar, Charles. And I can still do basic math, too. I had a heart transplant, not a stroke, for crying out loud. You're treating me like an incompetent boob. How soon do I get out of here?"

Charles, who had earlier begun to inch a bit closer to his father during the conversation, now retreated to his position at the foot of the bed. As was the norm whenever he tried to interact pleasantly with his dad, the elder's tone towards his son always put the young man on the defensive. As an only child who lost his mother to cancer thirteen years earlier on his twenty-second birthday, Charles was certain to inherit his father's vast empire, but that was never what he coveted the most. What he dreamt for as a young man and never received - and he would still happily cherish even this very day - would be to stand in the backyard with his father and throw a baseball for even a few minutes - as the other boys with 'normal' fathers had. That never happened, just as his father addressing his son by his nickname never had, either. Although the rest of the world knew and referred to Charles as 'Chip', Bastion refused, maintaining that 'Chip' wasn't formal enough for a soon-to-be millionaire business executive.

A disconsolate Charles stared down at the floor. "I just spoke with Dr. Knapp, Father, and he said you and the donor heart have been the best match he's ever seen, in terms of compatibility. He says it's as if they put your own heart back into your body - there hasn't been the slightest hint of rejection. Dr. Knapp says that if you weren't such a 'demanding old bastard', threatening them daily with lawsuits and such, you'd probably be out already."

"Son, see that Dr. Knapp, as well as everyone else associated with my care - gets a significant monetary gift when I leave. Hell, they all saved my life, didn't they? Oh yes, and find out who in the hell's heart I have in me now, I want to thank that person's family with a gift, too."

"Right away, Father. We have two people working on it; it can be difficult with the confidentiality laws, though..." Charles turned and made his way out the door, almost bumping into Nurse Janice as he left, and he quickly grabbed her arm.

"Have you people been spiking his medication with 'happy juice', or what? This guy has never been this nice in my entire life. I mean, never. He's never even tipped the paperboy, let alone an entire medical staff."

Nurse Janice stood still, placed her hand upon her chest, and rolled her eyes. "Let me tell you Charles, the transformation in your father over the last four or five days has been simply incredible. If I hadn't seen it myself, I wouldn't believe it. The man hasn't yelled at me for two whole days! A week ago, I couldn't go two measly hours without him threatening to have me sent to a maximum security prison somewhere. And the thing was, he meant it when he said it. I don't know what's come over him, but I pray every night that - whatever it is - it hangs around another day."

Charles laughed and tapped his own chest. "Yeah, if this keeps up, I'll have a heart attack of my own from the shock! Sure wish I knew what the secret was..."
 

*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *

"Father, do you remember William Elliston, of Elliston Holdings, Inc.?"

"Ah yes, Bill Elliston, how could I forget him? He was my biggest rival in the steel industry in the sixties and seventies - I hated the man. He was always such a religious kook - going to church and all - really made me sick to my stomach with his goodie-two-shoes routine - his employees 'loved him' or so I heard. He diversified and got into pharmaceuticals and did well for himself. Wonder how he's doing..."

"I don't know how else to say this, Father, but it's Mr. Elliston's heart you have now. His son phoned me last week and told me his father was killed in a car accident the day after Thanksgiving on his way home from the post office. I just learned this morning that he was the donor."

Bastion Waterford got up from his bed and walked to a nearby counter, which held hundreds of 'get well' cards, flowers, and other gifts sent to his hospital room. He sifted through the cards for several moments before stopping and taking a card from the stack, and handed the card to Charles.

"I didn't understand it when I opened it. Now, I do."

Charles opened the card and was surprised to see it was actually a Valentine's Day card, but with the pre-printed "Happy Valentine's Day" crossed out with marker. Enclosed was a hand-written note which read:

                                       Bastion -

It probably seems odd, receiving a Christmas card from me, especially this one, since
we were always adversaries and haven't spoken to each other in, what, thirty years?
Actually, I picked up a Christmas card for you, but I guess the girl at the drug store counter
made a mistake and placed this card in the envelope. I was going to drive back and exchange
it, but for some reason, my heart told me this was the right card. Seems kind of silly, but
perhaps sometime it will all make sense, for I have this feeling that - after all these years of
butting heads, we will soon find a way to patch things up and coexist, as crazy as it sounds.

                                 Your friend,

                                 Bill Elliston III

                                 November 25, 2011

Charles's color was as pale as the bed linen. "Father...Mr. Elliston must have died shortly after mailing this letter to you - it's dated the same day his son told me he died."

"Let me have the card, Son." Charles complied, and Bastion held the card tightly to his chest, and closed his eyes. Thank you, Bill, for saving my life in multiple ways. With his other hand he rubbed his chest gently. But, of course, Bill, you already knew that didn't you? 

"Charles...I mean, Chip..."

Tears welling in his eyes, the stunned man looked into his father's, whose own were now quite moist. "Yes, Father?"

"It's 'Dad', Son. And how about you helping me get out of here today and the two of us tossing the ball around a while?"

"That would be the best Christmas present you ever gave me, Dad."

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Words: 1952