Dying To Live Read online

  No, all the idiots surrounding him scribbling in their notepads and taking countless pictures thought Luke was smiling because he was about to make history. Reporters asked the questions they had been waiting their entire careers to ask an elite athlete. Talking heads on every radio and TV show filled the air with endless comparisons to the best players of all time and attempted to rank Luke’s season among the all-time greats. Journalists began to write the books they had waited their whole careers to write about the greatest season they had ever witnessed.

  Little did they know that in just a few days from now, the questions they would be asking and the stories they would be telling would transcend sports in ways they could not comprehend. And with that knowledge, Luke’s smile grew to a point that would make even the Cheshire cat jealous. He was almost home and no one could stop him.

  Chapter 5

  Harlan wasn’t able to enjoy the thought of going to the game for very long because Barry Michaels, the CEO of Seattle Children’s Hospital, rounded the corner and called out to him. Harlan had been taught by his father to despise hospital administrators. His father told him that all they cared about was profit, contribution margin, and other pointless financial numbers that had nothing to do with the actual reason for hospitals—to care for patients.

  Barry, however, was a sort of personal savior for Harlan. The year Barry was hired was the darkest and most difficult of Harlan’s life. For the first time, his then-wife, Emily, was starting to question their relationship, and Harlan began drinking more heavily than ever. Until then he had mostly been a social drinker, and that was about it. But when Stacy was rushed through the emergency room doors and he couldn’t make her whole again, Harlan sank to the lowest of lows.

  He started working late and then going to the bar even later. He would stagger home about an hour before Emily was to get up with the kids and then roll out of bed in time to shower and go into the office. He missed recitals, sporting events for the kids, anniversaries—things that before, he would have never missed for the world. He was absent at home, and because he was getting little sleep and drinking enough for a small army, his worked suffered, too.

  At least Harlan liked to tell himself that it only started just four years ago, but he knew better. He had started being aloof with Emily and his kids years before. He had allowed work to take over his life and his focus too often switched to his next surgery or busy clinic day. Worse yet, when he finally left for the day, he often didn’t find his way home, but to a bar where he drank his life away. Truly, he had already started to lose himself and, most importantly, his family years before Stacy’s accident.

  But he allowed what he considered a failure to make everything worse. And it had just kept getting worse every single day.

  Barry saw the changes and felt it was important that they did not lose Harlan. He pulled Harlan aside on more than one occasion just to talk. To talk about the Mariners, the Seahawks, the University of Washington football team, politics, and anything else that would keep Harlan’s mind off life. As soon as it was obvious Barry cared about Harlan as a person and not just as a physician employed at his hospital, Barry pulled him into his office and gave him an ultimatum.

  “Harlan, you’re one of the best doctors and, for that matter, people I’ve ever worked with, but you are killing yourself and your work. You’re losing your family and your patients. It’s time to get help, because if you don’t, you will never be able to help the people you took an oath to serve.”

  Harlan knew he was right. He probably could have been fired and no one would have batted an eye. The next day Harlan made his way to his first AA meeting. This may not have saved his marriage, and it may not have meant he was sober for very long at a time, but he began to gain perspective on what mattered. He was still in the process, but he was finally in a better place. Barry was a good man who had saved Harlan’s life. He was a good man who cared about the life of every patient in that hospital, too.

  So it wasn’t a shock that on that day Barry would be walking around and trying to find out what was going on. Harlan was more concerned this time around though; he didn’t have clear answers for Barry. He had some leads and some ideas of what they could do, but he really had no idea why the hospital was filled with patients who were once doing well and were now sicker than they had been before. What were they going to do?

  “Harlan, I think you already know this, but we need to talk,” Barry said as he approached. “We should probably go upstairs.”

  Great. Upstairs. Upstairs meant that Harlan would need to accompany Barry to the C-Suite and spend some time in administration. But mostly it meant that it wouldn’t just be Harlan and Barry talking about the events of the day and what they could do to make things better. No, they would be joined by the hospital’s Chief Medical Officer, Josie Silver. Of all the people Harlan did not want to see today, or any day for that matter, Josie was the one.

  Josie had become CMO at Seattle Children’s about two years ago, and to say she was a disaster would be putting it lightly. She was pompous, ego-driven, over-bearing, and undeserving. And those were her best qualities. What Harlan would like to say about her he couldn’t, because, well, there were children around.

  She had gained a nickname during her years at the hospital: Hi-Ho Silver. Clever and extremely original, but it made sense when you broke it down. Hi because she was always on her high horse looking down on everyone and everything. Ho because she was, and this is the only way to put it, a ho. At least that was the word around the office, the city, and the entire medical community.

  Harlan didn’t call her this or get involved in any of the normal gossip that was the constant plague of any office setting. There was plenty to say about him, and all of it was most likely true. Who was he to judge? So, he stayed out of it, but he still laughed when he heard it. It was funny. And sometimes you’ve just got to laugh.

  As they walked, they attempted some small talk to distract them from all that was going on in the hospital, but it wasn’t long until they entered Josie’s oversized office—the one she hardly ever left to see what was actually happening. Now it was time to get back to reality and Harlan was not looking forward to it.

  Chapter 6

  There was only one good thing that Luke could say about his scumbag of a father: he taught him how to play baseball. That was all he ever did for him. When Luke was old enough to walk, his father made sure that he carried a baseball around with him wherever he went. They would play catch, run the bases, and hit for hours.

  Baseball had been his father’s life growing up in Australia because he had been a budding star. At eighteen, William had signed with the Queensland Rams and helped bring them back to their glory years. Luke loved hearing stories about all that his dad accomplished: youngest MVP of the Claxton Shield, Australia’s premier baseball competition, at age twenty; first player to ever hit over .400 during the International Baseball League of Australia season, and then first to accomplish the feat in back-to-back seasons. Luke could listen to his father talk for hours about baseball and his accomplishments, but the stories didn’t last long because there weren’t many to tell.

  At twenty-one, Luke’s father was coming off his second .400 season and finally about to win the Claxton Shield. He was the talk of all of Australia, which was basically impossible in a land that couldn’t care less about baseball. He graced the cover of every newspaper and every magazine. He was their star, their future, and their hope of breaking into the American sports market.

  “There I was, son, standing on second base. The winning run, in the deciding game, just 180 feet away from bringing the Shield home. The crowd was loving it, loving me after I ripped that two-out double. You should have been there to hear them chanting my name.”

  The first time Luke heard this story, he loved every second of it. At least at the beginning when his dad seemed so happy.

  “First pitch, Tony Fields slams this line drive right up the middle. Perfect for a guy with my blazing
speed to score easily. I rounded third base and the crowd—Luke, the crowd was screaming. They could taste it. Hell, I could taste it. The Shield was really going to come back to Queensland. The only place it should really be.”

  At this point, Luke’s dad’s face always started to become dark and his eyes would turn fire red with anger and a hint a sadness. The first time, Luke didn’t know why. But he would soon learn that it was never a good sign for Luke or his mom.

  “Baseball, more than any other sport, is a game of inches. A game of split-second decisions. You’ve got very little time to make that perfect decision. When I saw the throw was coming in, I thought the best thing to do was slide headfirst. It hadn’t failed me before. Stupid catcher. Moved just a few inches right in front of me, and I didn’t see it. I had no time to react.”

  This was always the point in the story that Luke hated the most, but not because it meant that his dad was out and the Victoria Aces would go on to score in the next inning and win the Claxton Shield once again.

  No, it was because his dad would always pull out his constantly shaky and claw-like left hand for Luke to see. It was because his dad would explain in perfect detail how he felt his arm explode in pain as it slammed into the catcher, breaking in every place imaginable. He would put that hand right in Luke’s face. Then, without any hesitation or any sign of remorse, he would beat him with it until Luke passed out in a puddle of his own tears.

  Two things happened that day to Luke’s father. First, he could no longer grip the bat with the same force. His ability to hit for power, or really at all, was gone. Long gone. He would never be the same player again.

  Second, his confidence was shot. He would forever question his decision to slide headfirst when he may just have had a better chance to slide around the catcher feet-first. William would have been able to see him move those tiny inches and he would have scored. He wouldn’t have gotten hurt, they would have won, and he would have been the talk of Australia. He would have signed to play the game he loved in America, at least that’s what he told himself, and his life would have been better. Instead he was stuck with a dead-end job and a family he didn’t want. A family he never wanted.

  He pretended he did want the family life for a while, but it didn’t last forever. As a kid, Luke loved his dad. But Luke was just a stupid child who didn’t know better. It didn’t take very long for Luke to realize that his dad didn’t care about him or anyone else, especially his mother.

  By the time Luke turned eleven, his father was rarely home. When he was home, he wasn’t just drunk, he was a monster. Truthfully, calling him a monster was unfair to real monsters like Godzilla, Frankenstein, and Dracula. Luke was sure those guys at least had hearts, because he knew his dad had nothing of the sort. As soon as his dad stumbled through the door he would spend the first hour or so telling Luke’s mother what a worthless sack of excrement she was, and then, as he sobered up, he would go outside and make her play catch with him for hours. Except she didn’t get a glove. Or the use of her hands.

  When Luke had too much time to think, these were the horrible things he dwelt on. And as he sat alone in his Seattle apartment, waiting for the two biggest moments of his life to come, it was all he thought about. About his father and his mother and his miserable life growing up in Australia. He thought about how much time he had to spend cleaning up his mother whenever his father “made time for them.”

  He thought about how his mother just sat there and cried like a helpless little baby. He thought about how he had no friends because he didn’t care for their stupid games of rugby or cricket. He thought about how the kids at school would tease and pick on him because he carried a baseball glove everywhere. He thought about how much he wanted to get away from that home and be anywhere but there.

  It was a miserable childhood, and he was sure people would use this as a way to explain why Luke was the way he was, and why he had committed so many heinous acts in his life. But they had no idea. Everyone who would ever try to psychoanalyze him would be wrong. And that thought made Luke do something he rarely did—laugh.

  In truth, Luke was not Luke because of his father. Yes, he hated his father, but he was not angry with him for all that he had done. And, to be perfectly honest, he hated his mother for never fighting back or trying to get away. She was just as despicable. They were atrocious people, but Luke was worse than his worthless father and scared, useless mother. Both of them were gone, and only Luke knew where they were and how they had suffered.

  As he thought about his life and who he was, Luke knew that he was his own special kind of monster. He wasn’t recruited by the Matsui family, the largest Japanese Yakuza family in all of Australia. He recruited them. He made them, as the ridiculous American mob movies always put it, an offer they couldn’t refuse. They had no choice but to let him in after they had seen what he could do, and that he would do to anyone. He didn’t need them, but he wanted their resources. He wanted to bleed them dry and watch them suffer like his parents had, but first he would be a part of them and make them feel like he really was a Matsui.

  They fell right into his hands, and by seventeen, Luke was in Japan and playing for the Seibu Lions of the Nippon Baseball League because the Matsuis had influence over so much of what took place in that city. Now he was where he needed to be to begin executing his plans. He had everything at his disposal, and he now knew what his—as cheesy as it sounded—destiny was. Now he sat there knowing that he was about to fulfill his promise and again he began to laugh. And the only thing that stopped him was the knock at the door.

  Chapter 7

  “You better have answers to what in the world is going on with the patients in this hospital, Harlan.” This was just Josie’s way of saying hello and that she missed him. Such a sweetheart.

  “I’m great, Josie. Thanks for asking,” Harlan responded. Barry tried to hold back a smile, but it was apparent that Josie did not find a bit of humor in Harlan’s moment of standup comedy.

  “First, it’s Dr. Silver. Second, glad you can find humor today. I’m sure your patients’ families find you hilarious during this happy time.” Classic power play; don’t use my first name, call me Doctor. Got to make sure everyone in the room knows just how important I am. This was going to be even worse than Harlan imagined.

  “Excuse me, Dr. Silver. That was inappropriate. I will think before I speak now.” Not Harlan’s best work of keeping his thoughts to himself, but he tried. Not hard, but still he tried.

  “All right, all right.” Barry finally spoke up to get them back on target. “How about we all just sit down and talk about the matter at hand. Sound good?”

  “Yes, let’s talk.” Now it was Josie’s turn to appear calm, cool, and collected. Harlan knew this was an act. He was unsure if Barry had seen through her charade, her particular brand of bull crap, but he wished he had.

  “Where would you like to start? What do you need to know that you don’t already know from all your time out on the floor today?” Again, Harlan probably should bite down on his tongue harder. But there were a few people that just got his blood boiling and made it difficult for him to not speak his mind. Josie was at the top of that list.

  Josie glared, took a deep breath, and said, “I will let that one slide because I know this has been a stressful day for you. But now, I need more details. I know that we have past patients being readmitted to the hospital. I know that it seems as if it is not related to their past illnesses, but I don’t know why or what is causing the issue. What do you know?”

  “That’s pretty accurate, but there is a little bit more. Currently, seven of my own patients and an additional five patients have been admitted today so we can monitor them more closely tonight and run a few tests. We are testing everything possible to see what could have caused their conditions. We currently have no explanation as to why they are in an incredible amount of pain one second before it disappears as if it were only a horrible nightmare.”

  Harlan paused, waiting to s
ee if they had anything they wanted to add. When it was clear he had an attentive audience, he continued, “There is one thing that ties them all together. Each of these twelve patients had appointments with their docs either yesterday or today. And all were required to have some sort of lab work done pre-visit. It seems like a crazy coincidence, but we are looking at all angles. Hopefully that will help us find an answer soon.”

  There was a long silence in the room as it appeared that Josie and Barry were trying to take in what they were hearing. Barry was the first to break the silence. “That is excellent work, Harlan. Really excellent. Looks like it’s a good thing we keep such detailed medical records, isn’t it? With the tests and this knowledge, I feel like this will be straightened out by tomorrow. What do you think, Dr. Silver?”

  “I am impressed. Hopefully these tests will get to the heart of the matter quickly,” Josie added. She seemed a bit taken aback, like she wasn’t expecting Harlan to have a clue. He did though, and he could tell she was not all happy about it.

  “We’re good then?” Barry asked. “Good. Then I’m off to another exciting financial update. Great work, you two.”

  Both Barry and Harlan got up to leave, but before Harlan was barely out of his seat, Josie looked at him and said, “Can you stay a minute, Dr. Allred? I just want to go over a few more things.”

  Harlan knew he didn’t have a choice. He wanted to leave, go straight to his car, drive home, not pass go and not even collect $200. He had no desire to stay with Josie alone to “just go over a few more things.” But he reluctantly sat back down and waited to hear what in the world she had to say.

  “Honestly, I really am impressed.” Now it was Harlan’s turn to be a bit taken aback. Was she complimenting him? Was there more praise to come? “I was convinced that you would come in here with no answer and be completely clueless like always, but not this time. Good work.” There it was. The only compliment he was getting was a backhanded one. Better than nothing.