Chapter 1 - The Thing on the Screen)
Tobe's scream came less than a minute later.
His body tightened suddenly, his knees pulling toward his chest as another wave of abdominal pain tore through him.
Rachel forgot the man in the purple shirt.
She forgot the hallway.
She forgot everything except her son.
"Tobe."
She bent over him.
"Look at me, sweetheart. Look at Mom."
His breathing became shallow.
"It hurts."
"I know."
"It feels like something is twisting."
Dr. Velez immediately called for another nurse.
Within seconds the room changed from tense to controlled urgency.
An IV line was checked.
Medication was prepared.
A nurse named Carla positioned an oxygen sensor on Tobe's finger while Dr. Velez pressed gently around different areas of his abdomen.
"Tell me where it hurts most."
Tobe pointed near the center of his stomach.
Then the right side.
Then everywhere.
Rachel watched the doctor's face.
She had learned during the previous hour that physicians were trained to control their expressions.
Dr. Velez was failing.
Not dramatically.
He was not panicking.
But every time he looked at the ultrasound screen, there was something in his eyes Rachel could not ignore.
Concern.
And disbelief.
"Is it a tumor?" she whispered.
"No."
"Appendicitis?"
"The imaging does not look like appendicitis."
"Then what is moving?"
The doctor hesitated.
"We need additional imaging before I give you an answer."
Rachel felt anger rise through the fear.
"You already know something."
"I know what it resembles."
"What?"
Dr. Velez looked at Tobe.
The boy had closed his eyes again.
The medication was beginning to calm him.
The doctor lowered his voice.
"It resembles a cluster of tubular structures inside the small intestine."
Rachel stared at him.
"Tubular structures?"
"Possibly parasites."
For several seconds Rachel said nothing.
The word seemed too strange to enter the room.
Parasites belonged in documentaries.
They belonged in places with unsafe water and tropical diseases.
They did not belong inside her second grade son in Chicago.
"Tobe has never left the country."
"I understand."
"We don't even camp."
"I understand."
"He eats normal food."
"Mrs. Moore, I'm not saying we know how this happened."
"Could the ultrasound be wrong?"
"Yes."
Hope flashed through her.
Then Dr. Velez continued.
"But I repeated it."
Her hope disappeared.
"What happens now?"
"We stabilize him, check for obstruction, run blood work and stool testing, and bring in pediatric infectious disease."
"Obstruction?"
"There appear to be several structures together. If they are what I think they are, they may be interfering with normal intestinal movement."
Rachel looked down at Tobe.
He had fallen into an exhausted half sleep.
His lashes rested against his pale cheeks.
That morning he had complained about his stomach while putting on his shoes.
She had assumed he wanted to avoid school.
He had eaten half a piece of toast.
He had told her he was not hungry.
He had complained about stomach pain on and off for weeks.
Nothing severe.
Nothing like tonight.
Rachel suddenly remembered every one of those moments.
She remembered asking whether he needed to use the bathroom.
She remembered telling him he probably ate too much pizza.
She remembered joking that seven year old boys sometimes developed mysterious illnesses whenever vegetables appeared at dinner.
Her throat tightened.
"How long could something like this have been happening?"
Dr. Velez answered carefully.
"Depending on what we find, potentially weeks or months."
Months.
Rachel looked toward the doorway.
The hallway outside was empty now.
But the image of the purple shirt returned.
Where had she seen it?
She knew she had.
A nurse entered with a portable machine.
Another physician followed.
Dr. Velez began explaining the findings.
Rachel listened only partially.
Her mind was searching through recent memories.
School.
The grocery store.
Tobe's soccer practice.
The apartment building.
The after school program.
She stopped.
The after school program.
Harbor House.
Their staff wore purple polo shirts.
Rachel turned toward the door.
May you like
The man who had been watching from the hallway had been wearing the exact same shade of purple.
And earlier that afternoon, Tobe had spent three hours at Harbor House.
