The Spurring of Anthony Lyra

Anthony Lyra turned the lock of his front door silently so not to disturb his wife. After the accident, Doctor Misty Lyra scared more easily, and being home all day had not helped. But out of the two of them, she was the only one who could work remotely. Anthony did not have a PhD to allow him such liberties. And now that he’d been promoted from being her Research Assistant to Lab Manager, he had to spend even more time at work.

Nothing would taste better than Misty’s cooking after the night that he’d had. He’d been pulling a lot of double-shifts on his latest project; trying to figure out how to connect new live nerve-endings to old dead ones. And last night, he'd finally reached a breakthrough. His last trial was still stable after 48 hours. 48 long hours.

The empty hallway smelled amazing; onions and garlic paired with herbs and red meat. Misty’s infamous roast. Both him and Lucas's favourite. Anthony couldn’t wait to surprise his wife, being home a day early, by wrapping his arms around her in a loving embrace. The thought alone sent a spike of heat through his blood, invigorating his fatigued body.

But as he passed the living room, he noticed something amiss. He halted in his tired quest to look over the room. There. The charger for Lukas’s wheelchair was unplugged. Was it broken? Had Misty unplugged it? And his medicine cart was cluttered too. Empty bottles laying on their side and loose pills everywhere.

Both the charger and the medicine was expensive. They’d already sold Lukas’s motorcycle to be able to put in extra wide doorframes and ramps around the house after he was discharged; they didn’t have anything else on hand should they need to replace it all at the same time.

Anthony put those thoughts aside for now. He was too excited to see Misty. He wanted to tell her the good news. The connection was stable at last!

Misty and Lucas was not in the kitchen as Anthony expected. The roast was in the oven. The table was set for three. Lukas’s nutrition formulas and syringes were laid out on his side of the table. But where were they?

He could hear the two of them laughing upstairs. Misty somewhat high-pitched compared to her usual rich laugh, but heartfelt, nonetheless. Lukas’s laugh was not much more than a hoarse gurgle that strained in his throat, but still, it was good to hear the boy laugh again.

When coming up the stairs, Anthony saw that the door to Lukas’s bedroom was ajar. The light from inside spilled out on the hallway floor. As he drew closer, he could hear Misty speak fondly to their son.

“Ah, and look at this. Remember this? You won the first price at the science fair at your elementary school. We were so proud of you.” Misty cleared her throat. “We are so proud of you. And look here, this is from when your father took you on that fishing trip. You were so excited when you got to pull the crab pot on your own.”

Antony leaned in to look at his family through the slit in the door. Misty, poise as ever, sat on their sons bed. Her hair was fastened in a bun by the nape of her neck; an elegant accent to her black wide legged dress pants and white pashmina turtleneck. There was a time when she’d adorn herself in gold or pearl earrings and necklaces, but she looked just as beautiful in her naked modesty.

The constant hum from Lukas’s respirator was broken up by the occasional hiss of his aspirator, and the portable oxygen concentrator clicked from its place on the nightstand. A soft pattern of whooshes and pshh-es had become a reassuring indicator for Anthony to know that his son was alright.

He should go in and sit with them, but he was too tired to contribute, plus he did not want to admit that forgotten most of what Misty was talking about. Anthony was too happy just to stand and listen as his wife and son shared that moment.

“Good thing we taught you how to swim earlier that summer, because no sooner had you brought up the pot, than the crabs frightening you so much you fell off the boat.” She held his hand in hers and brushed it lightly while they laughed again. “And then you won your first swimming contest next summer. You were such a good swimmer.”

Lukas made a strangled sound and Misty’s voice hitched as she said, “Alright, sweetie.”

She reached for the drawer in the nightstand and took out one of Lukas’s fentanyl patches. He would probably be asleep soon, so Anthony thought it best not to disturb them. He was so weary himself. The thought of his last 48 hours made him lift his thumb and forefinger to rub his eyes. He should sleep, but he wanted to be there to greet Misty, he wanted to hold her and tell her what a great mother and wife she was.

When he looked up, Misty took out one of Lukas’s fentanyl patches from the drawer on his nightstand and rolled up Lukas’s sleeve to place it on a clean area of skin. Anthony shook his head; he must be more tired than he realised. But as he discarded what he saw, he noticed the corner of another patch peeking out from beneath Lukas’s sleeve.

What?

A million thoughts raced through Anthony’s head. Fear-stricken, he backed away from the door to Lukas’s room and retreated down the stairs on silent feet. He didn’t understand what he’d just witnessed. Misty was the Lab Head before she retired to work from home, she knew the correct dosage to admission someone of Lukas’s weight and height. She would not make such a mistake. Anthony must’ve imagined it. Yes. He’s so overworked that he’d started seeing things that weren’t there.

***

Anthony stood outside their front door with his suitcase in his hand, his hat on his head, and his coat still on. He turned the handle and went in.

“Honey, I’m home.” He yelled through the house as he put down his suitcase to remove his wool coat. While he hung up his hat and stepped out of his shoes, Misty greeted him loudly as she came in from the kitchen.

“Oh, Anthony, I’m so glad you’re home early.” She leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek and he wrapped his arms around her. “Dinner is almost ready. Lukas requested your favourite, but he is sleeping just now, so it’s just the two of us.”

Anthony dug his nose into the crook of her neck and breathed her in while he held her even more tightly.

“Honey, what’s the matter?” Misty huffed in his ear. “Are you alright? You look exhausted.”

“I’m just… glad to be home.” Anthony sighed.

Once at the dinner table, Misty plated their food and sat them down before Anthony. It looked delicious. She’d given him the best cuts and smothered the mashed potatoes in gravy, just as he liked it. Anthony moaned at his first bite and Misty beamed proudly when he dug into his food.

“We had a breakthrough at the lab today,” Anthony spoke eagerly around his food, “the connection is stable.”

“That’s great!” Misty reached for his hand, and he dropped his utensil to clasp it in his own. “How did it happen? Tell me all about it.”

Anthony did, and Misty listened attentively as he explained what he’d been doing for the last 48 hours. Once he was done and his plate was empty, Misty got up to come and sit on his lap.

She looked fondly down into his eyes, “It is truly happening then. Ah, my love, you’ve done great work.” Anthony felt another spike of vigour rush through him from hearing her praise him so affectionately. “I think this calls for a celebration. Where did we put that brut? You know, the one we got for our anniversary.”

“Honey, I don’t think I can drink tonight,” Anthony apologized, “I’m simply too tired. I’ll fall right asleep”

“Ah,” Misty smiled playfully, “well, we cannot have that. Not until you’ve gotten a reward for such outstanding work.” She planted a kiss on his cheek to punctuate her meaning. And Anthony let her lead him to their bedroom.

Her body felt warm and soft in his hands. She’d started using a new shampoo that made her hair smell like lavender, but her moisturizer was still the same. Coconut and Hibiscus. Anthony forced his thoughts to still as he lost himself in his wife’s embrace.

***

Misty laid a hand on Anthony’s shoulder to gently rouse him awake. Anthony reached for her in an attempt to pull her back to bed.

“Honey,” her voice was shaking, “honey, please wake up. Something has happened.”

“What is it, dear?” Anthony fetched his glasses from the nightstand, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Lukas,” Misty’s voice broke as tears spilled from her eyes, “he passed away in his sleep.”

“What?” Anthony sprung out of bed and rushed into his sons room. “Lukas? Lukas, my boy. Wake up, son, wake up!”

He didn’t know how long he’d been crying out for his son, but at one point, Anthony had stopped. The continuous screeching tone of Lukas’s heart-beat monitor grew louder around him. The light on his ventilator blinked red, while the pulsing siren alerted Anthony about the fact that his son was no longer breathing.

“Oh, honey,” Misty came to fold her body around his, but he flinched away, hard and fast. Misty was shoved back so forcefully she cried out.

“No,” Anthony whimpered through his tears, “my boy…”

“We must call the hospice,” Misty cried softly, “they need to come and declare the time of death.”

Misty walked around the bed turning off machines and unplugging cords while she spoke. "They warned us this could happen at any moment. It was a miracle that he was discharged at all."

She let the tears fall freely down her face, not bothering to wipe them. Gently, she removed the catheter from Lukas’s arm and set it aside. As she moved around the room, the noise from the machines subsided as Anthony laid frozen, half splayed on top of his son.

“Oh,” Misty breathed heartbroken, “come now, honey, go downstairs and I’ll finish up here.”

Anthony didn’t remember going downstairs, but he found himself sitting by the kitchen table with his phone in his hand, staring into nothingness.

“Anthony?” Misty ventured carefully, “You must dial the number sweetheart.”

Anthony did. But as soon as he heard the dial tone, he hung up. He couldn’t pretend any longer. Swiftly, he got up and turned away from his wife to press his palms into the kitchen counter.

Misty came and wrapped her arms around him from behind, but he recoiled from her touch.

“Anthony!” Misty cried out

“I know what you did.”

“Anthony, what are you talking about?” Misty was horrified.

“I know what you did to our boy.” He turned to face her.

“I don’t understand what you mean, Anthony–”

“Stop lying to me!” Anthony’s voice was shrill and desperate.

“Dial the number, Anthony.” The person speaking was Doctor Misty Lyra, Head of Research and Development at the Olise Institute.

“What?”

“Dial the number to the hospice, so they can come and declare time of death.” She spoke calmly and collected.

“We agreed, we wouldn’t do it!” Anthony was incredulous. His heart was beating so hard in his chest, the pump of it hammered inside his head. “We agreed we’d try to find another way!”

“I never agreed to such nonsense!” Misty lifted her hands and let them fall in defeat. “My son was in misery! You might have noticed it, had you been here! But no, you retreated inside yourself, diving into your work at the lab!”

“I did that for us! For all of us!”

“Oh, please! After the accident, you got a promotion, while I was reduced to a caretaker! Did you ever stop to think about how that made me feel?”

“What was your plan? Huh?” Anthony boomed. “How were you going to get away with this?”

“I’m overworked. Taking care of our son all by myself. The nurse only comes to check on us once a week these days. And they send a different one each time. Another thing you might have noticed, had you been here!”

“That’s a stupid plan!” Anthony scoffed. “No one is going to believe you!”

“Do not call me stupid!” Misty spoke with cold fury. “And it’s their word against mine. Besides, some of them even agreed with me. I did what I needed to save my son from a life in misery. He was supposed to apply for colleges the summer when it happened, instead he’s been locked inside his body for years! All because you wanted to give him a motorcycle!”

Her accusation pierced Anthony’s chest like a spike of burning fire.

“What were you going to do if I found out about it?” He deflected. “Where you going to leave me behind?”

“You were never supposed to find out!” Misty laughed ironically to herself.

“Well, I did find out!” Anthony punctuated.

“I have no idea how you did it, because you seemed pretty detached last night. You’ve been nothing but a shell of yourself. You’ve been walking in and out of this house at all hours, like a zombie. Yet somehow this did not pass you by!”

A pressing silence filled the room as they unyieldingly faced each other. Too many emotions stirred the air between them. Too many unspoken words. Thoughts flurried inside Anthony’s head.

Had he done this? Had he forced his wife’s hand by refusing their son deliverance? Had Misty, once again, had to make the tough decisions because of his wavering? Because of his cowardice? Was it not she who had urged him to select a more difficult major? Was it not she who’d suggested he begin his neural regeneration trials long before the accident? Was it not him who had refused from an ethical standpoint? It wasn’t until necessity and desperation forced his hand, that he began his research.

“Alright,” Anthony said determinedly, “Pack your belongings. I’ll call them.”

“What?” All fight had left Misty, replaced by sorrow and wonder. And hope.

“Take the car as far as it’ll go on the gas that it has. Find a bus or a train that’ll take you across the border. See if you can find a boat from there to take you the rest of the way. I’ll ask my sister to take care of the funeral should I be indisposed.”

Anthony walked decisively to their study and retrieved the cash he’d left there for emergencies.

“Take this. I have an alibi. Our neighbours have barely seen you since the accident, they said it themselves at our last HOA meeting. Irene even asked if you’d left me.” He was rambling “I’ve just made a big break at work after pulling several all-nighters. I can confess to misconduct. I can claim it was an accident.”

Misty stood stupefied with a wad of cash in her hands. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you!” Anthony strode towards her and kissed her. “Thank you for taking care of our son. Thank you for being the flagship of our family. Thank you for making me a better scholar, and a better man. No, let me do this one thing in return. Go, my love. Before I lose my nerve.”

Misty hurried out their backdoor while swallowing her sobs.

As Anthony sat down at the table, he dialled the number slowly. He felt the nerves outside of his body as he waited for the reply on the other end.

“Hello. My name is Anthony Lyra. I— I killed my son.”

Anthony hung up the phone and sat in his chair while he waited for a knock on the door.