BOOK OF BILLY: 2011

Chapter 11: Code

"Pop's coming to see you today!" Mum chirps, wheeling me out of the giant lift and towards the sun lounge. Not that I want to go. It was just a courtyard in the middle of the hospital, and there were always a handful of patients brought out to get their Vitamin D on a sunny day. Today was an effing sunny day. Just my effing luck.

"Great! Another adult to tell me how dumb I was for surfing my bike on an open road!"

"Billy."

"What?"

"Nobody's ever said that to you. Not your dad, and especially not me."

I remain quiet. It's true. No one has indeed said those words out loud, but I know they are thinking it all the time, every time they see me, strapped to the board on wheels, or chair on wheels. Unable to even go to the loo without help. I would be. If I were to see me right now. Boy Genius, brought down by a car. So embarrassing.

"Dahlia called last night. She wanted to know how you were doing, and if you wanted any visitors this week?" Mum locks the wheels on my chair and pulls over a plastic seat for herself, waving at some regulars. "I told her weekends might be better for you both, and I can take a break."

"How's your boy doing?" an elderly man asks, seated beside his senile wife, on the other side of the square. Catatonic in her gaze.

"Pretty good!" Mum glances at my face and the giant freaking cast on my right leg. I know my bruises have healed well. The external wounds are scabbing up and forming lifelong scars. The only ones left to heal are my fractured leg and my badly bruised ego. She touches my hair, brushing it out of my eyes. Yup, I need a haircut. My locks are now luscious. So ridiculous. That's what a two-month stay at a boring ass hospital does to you. Your hair grows long, your tastebuds die a thousand deaths, and your heart aches for freedom. At least mine does.

"I'd like to go to my graduation." I squint at the cross-word puzzle she has on her lap. She's been trying to finish it for two days now. It's annoying. I could easily tell her the rest of the answers, but she won't have any of it. "And I need more books. I'm bored out of my mind here."

She sits there mulling over the puzzle, her head nodding, but I know she hasn't heard a thing I said.

"Mum?"

She chews on her bottom lip.

"Mum?" I take the magazine and, thus, the puzzle away. I am in need here, woman. More than you need to finish the stupid puzzle!

"What, Billy? What?"

"Did you hear what I said? I'm bored OUT OF MY MIND."

She sighs, trying to reach for my hand. I move it away. I don't want to be comforted. No amount of comforting is going to fix me. My spine's broken. I will have to fix that on my own.

"I gave you a list of books last week. Did you get any of them for me?"

She eyes me for a long moment. This is how I know my attitude is rubbing her the wrong way, but I can't help it. I'm seriously bored, and I don't even have the luxury to escape it on my own. "Your pop's bringing a few for you today," she finally says. "They weren't exactly the kinds of books I can walk into a normal bookstore to buy!" She snatches her puzzle back, trying to get back to her task, then gives up and turns to me again.

"I know this isn't exactly easy for you, Billy. Your dad and I both can't even imagine how hard of an adjustment this is, but we are doing the best we can right now. The least you can do is, be a little civil."

Her phone twitters beside her. Pop's ringtone. She throws the magazine on the seat, gets up and walks away with her phone in hand. "He'll be needing a hand."

I watch her walk away and feel a little guilty. The poor woman has pretty much given up her life to be here with me every single day. Her clinic running on without her presence. I know she's bleeding money and emotions right now, but it pales compared to my suffering. I sulk, hating the fact that I can't even storm out of the sun and back in and to my dreary room. At least out here, the air doesn't smell like disinfectants. So I breathe in the fresh air while waiting for Mum to return with Pop.

They do so, laden with a small plastic trolley full of medical books and coffee in their hand. I see three cups and thank Mum quietly for bringing me one, too. She's been letting me have a cup here and there since the accident, perhaps hoping it would lighten my mood somehow. It can't be easy staring at my sullen, sorry face all the time.

I reach for the liquid gold with both my hands! Give me, give me, give me! The first sips are always the ones I savour the most.

"How's my little genius?" Pop gives me a massive cuddle, and I grip my coffee tighter in case it falls from my hands.

"I'm fine!" I say, even though both mum and I know I'm a mile or two away from fine.

Pop pats my back and pulls over another chair beside me. He drags the trolley to our feet and starts pulling out one textbook after another. "I brought you most of what I could find. Some are second hand off students on campus. There were a few I couldn't find, so we can wait till Uni opens back up again in the new year, and they get restocked with all the curriculum materials."

Amongst the few books, I see Applied Nanotechnology, a book that hadn't been on my list at all. I bend over and pick it up. "What's this?"

Pop shrugs. "Since that field has been booming in the last few years, I bought it for light reading. Thought you might enjoy it, what with your interest in engineering and robotics. They have some pretty cool stuff in that field."

Yup, Pop's that old guy that still says 'cool', and I'm pretty cool with that. I feel a smile on my face, first in ages. "Light reading?" The book probably weighs close to two kilos!

He laughs, sipping his coffee. "Your mum tells me you've been reading all sorts at the moment."

I nod. I have been reading anything and everything I can get my hands on, or mum can haul back and forth for me whenever she goes home. My favourite fields so far have been genetics, microbiology and virology — they are fascinating. I'm reading anything off mum and dad's bookshelves, basically. Nanotech could be fun too, and it's definitely not on their shelves.

I flip the pages in the book, quickly scanning the contents page, spying a few topics that immediately catch my interest. "You got anything on coding for me? We were doing some pretty cool coding in STEM before..." I can't even bring myself to say accident.

Pop observes me, carefully. I can tell — even though I'm not looking at him. I can feel his gaze on me.

"Yeah, I'm sure we can find you some things on coding," he finally says, his voice catching in his throat. "What happened to the app you were developing for Elsie?"

I shrug, catching Mum suddenly pay attention to the two of us.

"What app?" she chimes in, eager to get into our conversation.

Pop eyes me, in a can-I-tell-her, or will you, kind of way. I nod to him. Go ahead, you can tell her.

"He was developing a cross-word app for you where you can choose on your own word length, the number of questions you wanted, category, etc, and it would create one tailored to your interest." Pop smiles at me. I know he is proud. "He was close to finishing it."

"Yeah, I had a few bugs to fix before I exported it." I smile, eyeing Mum's paper puzzle in her hand. "That way you don't have to keep buying those."

Mum's hand flies to her mouth, and I hear her clear her throat. She's getting chocked up.

"I can finish it when we go back home."

Pop turns to mum. "When are they releasing him?"

"This weekend." Mum smiles and I can hear the relief in her voice. "We're just setting up a few things Billy will need in his room, and the house, and Brad said it won't be ready until this weekend."

I tear my gaze away from Mum, feeling anger flare-up in my chest. I'm not angry at her, no. Far from it. I'm angry with myself. That I can't even go back to a normal home anymore is horseshit.

"Did you say Dhalia's coming this weekend?" I ask to change the topic. Anything but talk about the adjustments needed in my room, or the bathroom, or the house to accommodate my handicap. The truth — despite having been here for two months — hasn't sunk in. Guess I'm still in the denial phase of mourning.

"Yeah, I thought you might like to catch up with some friends," Mum continues. "And did you say you wanted to go to the graduation earlier?"

Finally, caught on, have you? I chuckle half-heartedly. "Yeah, if I can go."

"I don't see why that would be a problem. They accommodated your HSC, didn't they?" she throws. "I'll check with the school tomorrow."

The rest of the afternoon, Pop and Mum catch up on her clinic and his professorship. They both belong to the medical field. He's an expert in medical microbiology, and she's an ENT. Sometimes, I can't help but wonder how my geek of a dad — working in IT — ever met her. Or if I'll ever meet someone who will match my freak. Probably never, not anymore that I'm a... that I'm a... cripple.

I clear my throat and start reading the textbook in my hand. Let's learn a thing or two about nanotechnology, shall I? Anything sounds better than sitting around moping or hoping. The former I don't want to do anymore, and the latter, I dare not even try.