Compassion Can’t Wait

By Carly Phillips

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Julia Caldwell listened to the familiar sound of a ball hitting the center pocket of a baseball mitt echoed through the hospital corridors, as routine as the monitors beeping at the nurse’s station at Caridad del Cobre Children’s Hospital. For the last month, the Cortez family, mother and 14 year old twin sons, had been a fixture at the hospital; Michael Cortez and his baseball obsession a welcome break from sickness and pain. As the healthy child in a single parent home, baseball was the only comfort Michael Cortez had. Nobody, from the nurses to the doctors, to the other patients or parents, would ever ask him to stop the repetitive movements. Because Michael and his brother Manny were twins, alike in so many ways except for a cruel genetic twist.

Manny had leukemia. Michael did not. Manny had his mother at his side day and night. Michael did not.

Every afternoon, Michael walked to the hospital from school and took up residence in either his brother’s room or the family lounge. Not wanting to be a burden to his mother, he’d do his homework without being reminded, bring his mom coffee, and then turn to the comforting routine of tossing the ball into the glove.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

From her small office near the nurse’s station, Julia filled out the Request for Assistance Forms for the Andre Sobel River of Life Foundation. As the social worker responsible for the pediatric wing of Caridad del Cobre, Julia had already been in contact with the Program Manager at ASRL and the foundation was expecting the formal request. Within twenty-four hours, ASRL would cut a check to Anna Cortez’s landord, electric company and phone carrier. Their apartment and other essentials would be taken care of while Anna sat by Manny’s bedside, willing him to live. Anna had already lost her job because, as everyone at the hospital understood too well, a child’s illness was all consuming. ASRL’s motto was, "when compassion can’t wait."

And the Foundation always stepped up immediately.

Before Julia faxed in the Request for Assistance, she said her usual prayer of thanks to the people at ASRL, grateful she’d contacted the Foundation almost two years ago for another single parent of a teenage girl with a brain tumor. Since then, Caridad del Cobre routinely applied to ASRL for funding for families who met the criteria – single caregivers who needed to be with their sick children.

Julia leaned against the wall and sighed. But who would make sure the needs of Michael Cortez, the healthy child, were met?

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Julia listened to the sound, as familiar to her as the number 22 emblazoned on the fourteen year old boy’s jersey. Number 22, Kyle Hansen, star pitcher for the Miami Suns, the city’s three year old expansion team who’d made it as far as the playoffs last year. Kyle was their multi- million dollar boy, their marquee player and their captain.

He was also Julia’s high school sweetheart and first love - before life choices got in the way. The fax machine beeped loudly, telling her the fax had gone through. Shaking off the past, Julia headed to tell Anna Cortez that everything would be taken care of soon.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Drawn by the sound, Julia paused by the family waiting room and glanced at the dark haired boy sitting alone in the lounge, rhythmically smacking the ball into his glove.

"Hey, Michael."

"Hey." He didn’t take his eye off the ball. With hard work and a guardian angel, the boy’s focus and concentration could take him far.

Just like his idol.

"What time is today’s Sun game?" she asked him.

"Seven."

Julia nodded. Her paid day ended at five. "Want company?" She didn’t have plans for the night and she could just as easily watch the game here as at home.

The boy shrugged. "Don’t care."

Smack. Smack. Smack.

"Good. That settles it, then. I’ll pick us up burgers for dinner and be back in time for the game. It’ll be like we’re at the stadium."

"Burgers from Burgers, Shakes and Fries?" he asked, his tone showing the first sign of eagerness.

Julia grinned. "Yeah. I can go to Burger, Shakes and Fries." Even if it was fifteen minutes in the other direction. Michael’s smile was worth it.

Her heart swelled and she felt an overwhelming empathy for the boy who was losing his childhood along with his brother. She’d once been him, the healthy sibling with a sister dying of leukemia and Julia knew exactly how Michael was feeling.

Alone, lonely, resentful and afraid. She also knew that no matter whether Manny recovered or not, Michael’s life would never be the same. His relationship with his mother, his sibling, even the rest of the world, would be forever altered. As hers had been.

If someone didn’t step in and acknowledge that he was important too, his already rioting emotions would change him from just a teenager with attitude to one who found validation elsewhere, in crime or worse in one of the street gangs prevalent in the downtown area where he lived. Julia knew it would take a special person with unique skills to get past the teenager’s well-honed defenses and impress the boy. Someone like the man Julia hadn’t seen in nine years and who she’d never had any intention of contacting again.

She ran her hands up and down her arms as she traveled down memory road. Kyle had signed a letter of intent to play baseball for the University of Miami but turned down the scholarship when he was selected in the first round of the amateur draft to play for the Seattle Mariners right after graduation. He’d asked, actually he’d expected, her to go with him.

She’d refused. For more reasons than she could think about now.

Could she just resurface in his life all these years later and ask him to help? And even if she was willing to just step up and ask him, she couldn’t easily find a way to contact him now that he was a celebrity.

But she had resources. Illness didn’t discriminate and thanks to her work at Caridad del Cobre and her association with ASRL, she had met people from all walks of life.

With all sorts of connections.