The Annexation of Puerto Rico

Tears formed in Bodie’s vision just as they did on the day Colt was born. Unlike when he was born though, Bodie didn’t wipe these tears away. He couldn’t because his clasped hands shook as he prayed to a God that he didn’t even know if he believed in.

A soft knock interrupted Bodie’s prayers, and a portly man appeared in the doorway of the tiny hospital room. Before Bodie could respond, the doctor had pushed into the room and began reviewing Colt’s file. The doctor’s hair, probably once deep black, was now distinguished, unkempt, and silver, which matched a neatly trimmed beard that framed a face etched with the lines of experience. Behind a pair of sensible, thin-rimmed glasses, his eyes stared intensely at the medical chart, which made Bodie squeeze his hands tighter together and hold his breath.

“Outside of the obvious need for a new heart, your son is doing better.” The doctor placed the chart at the end of the bed and began feeling Colt’s legs. “The medicine we gave him slowed his heart rate and relaxed the valves, which seems to have reduced the swelling in his legs,” his hands moved up, “and abdomen.”

“So, we don’t have to do the operation anymore?” Colt asked, a warmth spread through his body. Maybe there is a god, maybe everything will be alright, maybe this is just another test.

“I didn’t say that.” The doctor had been checking Colt’s breathing with his stethoscope. “The only reason it works now is because of the medically induced coma we put your son in.” Satisfied, the doctor returned the stethoscope around his neck. “He still needs a new heart. It’s lucky you brought him in when you did. I’m not sure he would have made it much longer if you hadn’t.”

The warmth faded instantly, and Bodie’s stomach churned. He felt stupid for even hoping for an easy way out. There was never an easy way out for cowboys like him and his son. Bodie removed his hat and ran his fingers through his short auburn hair as he tried to think hard about how he and his son had gotten here. There wasn’t any heart disease in his family line, so it must have come from his mother, but she never mentioned her family when they were together, so he couldn’t possibly know for sure.

The doctor placed his hand on Bodie’s shoulder, and a sudden scent of cinnamon filled the air. “We can have the operating room prepped in an hour; we just need your final decision.”

“Have you ever seen that Little Giants movie, doc?”

“I have.”

“You remember the end of the movie when they pull out that crazy play to beat the other team to win the championship at the last second.”

“You mean, the Annexation of Puerto Rico. Yes, it was one of my favorite scenes.”

“Well, I guess this is our Annexation of Puerto Rico doc. Let’s go win that game.”

The doctor nodded and exited the room and suddenly the space became much colder. The smell of bleach and antiseptic wipes replaced the cinnamon scent and jarred Bodie back to reality. He reached for his son’s hand but thought better of it and instead adjusted the thin blanket covering Colt’s body. He then moved to the small table in the room's corner and took out a sheet of notebook paper and a pencil.

He didn’t fully know why he was writing the letter. Maybe it was because he promised Colt’s mom, he would keep him safe and he felt like he was failing again. Maybe it was because he knew Colt couldn’t understand him through the coma. Maybe Colt wouldn’t even need the letter. But he would write it; just in case. His hand was heavy, and his heart was heavier as he wrote the words, he hoped Colt would find comfort in.

Son,

I wanted to share some thoughts with you, things I’ve learned along the way that might be helpful as you navigate your own path. My dad was never there, so I hope these thoughts help you find your way in case you need it.

Do you remember how when you were younger and you were learning how to ride a bull? Do you remember how frustrated you would get each time it would buck you off? I do, and I also remember how I taught you to hold on to the horn and just make it through a second at a time. Well life can be like riding a bull, full of ups and downs, but you just got to hold on to that horn. It's important to appreciate the good times and learn from the challenging ones. Don't be afraid to take risks, but also remember to look before you leap. The world moves quickly, but you don't have to stay angry at it for long. Find your footing, hold your line, and keep it moving.

Find what you're passionate about and pursue it with all your heart. Work hard, but remember to make time for the people you love. Family is everything, so cherish those relationships and always be there for your partner. I hope you never make the mistake of choosing work over the moments that truly matter. That’s the mistake I made with your mom, choosing riding over being there to help with you and that’s what probably drove her to the drink and that ditch by the side of the road. She begged me to quit but the rodeo had too much of a pull on me and now I’m scared because I see the pull it has on you too. Please son, if you ever find that person who loves you, hold on to them tighter than you do that saddle. Don’t let your pride get in the way of saying sorry or bettering yourself.

Be kind to others, even when it's difficult. Treat everyone with respect, and always strive to do what is right. Listen more than you speak, and never stop learning. Keep a hold of your morals no matter what, and always trust your gut instinct; it rarely steers you wrong. Be a gentleman, but don’t be soft. You can have dirt on your boots and still be respectable.

More than anything, just know there will be moments when you feel lost or unsure. That's okay. Trust your instincts, and know that you are capable of overcoming any obstacle. The path isn't always clear, but the journey itself is the gift. If you remember all of this then I know you will be able to overcome any problem you face. Live a good life and don’t just survive, but thrive.

Remember, I love you, forever and always.

Dad

Bodie folded up the paper that was pock marked with tear stains and placed it inside of an envelope. With care he wrote his son’s name and ensured it was sealed tight. Once, he felt sure he had done and said everything he had too he got up and exited the room.

In the hallway of the medical center there wasn’t a single person or sound save for the thunk of his boots hitting the floor as he made his way down it. Bodie approached a small nurse’s station that was just two L-shaped islands that sat in the connecting space of the two hallways of the medical center. There was a single nurse there typing away at one of the antique computers that lined the sides of the island. In between the computers were the coffee stains and organized chaos indicating the battles that the nurses fought on a daily basis.

Bodie approached the nurse and gave a soft ahem to announce his presence. The seasoned nurse looked up at Bodie, her dark curls tied back in a haphazard bun and the audible smacking of her chewing gum reminding Bodie of how one of the cows would chew their food on his ranch.

“S’cuse me miss.” Bodie said. “My son is about to have a procedure done; would you mind making sure he gets this letter when he wakes up?”

“Sure hon.” The nurse grabbed the letter and unceremoniously dropped it on top of a pile of charts by her computer. “Perfect timing actually, the doctor said that the operating room is ready, and I was just about to come get you.”

“It can’t have been an hour already I—”

“Oh, it’s only been about forty-five minutes, but we need to get some last-minute signatures and get y’all prepped.” She got up and motioned for Bodie to follow her and she led him further down the hallway towards a set of ominous metal slate doors.

When they approached, she swiped her name badge over a receiver and the doors opened inward revealing a brightly light entryway that opened up to three separate doors. The nurse indicated that Bodie should enter the room on the left and he began to head that way until he heard the sound of a gurney behind him.

As he turned, he noticed Colt being wheeled into the entryway by a young orderly and noticed that Colt looked so peaceful as he slept. Bodie’s pulse quickened and a lump formed in his throat. He reached out once more to hold his son’s hand but like in the room ended up adjusting the bedsheet.

The orderly pushed Colt into the room opposite of Bodie’s and thoughts of regret, fear, and resolution all crashed through Bodie’s head at once. Was this the right decision. Would Colt hate him for doing this? Could Bodie live with himself if he didn’t do this?

Before he could question it any further Bodie pushed open the door to his assigned room and was greeted by the doctor who got the operating room prepped a little too quick for Bodie’s liking. The doctor handed Bodie some forms and asked him to get changed and lay on the hospital bed that was stationed in the center of the room.

“Is it going to hurt, doc?” Bodie asked.

“Nope,” the doctor said, “Just count back from ten and before you hit the last number it will be done,” he began to place the anesthesia mask over Bodie’s face but paused looking at the patient to make sure he was ready.

“This will work right?” Bodie said.

The eyes behind the doctors rimmed glasses softened, “we will do everything we can to ensure your son walks out of here with a new life ahead of him. But, this like any other procedure, is not without risks.” He began to place the oxygen mask back on Bodie’s face. “Now coun—”

“What about cops? Won’t there be questions?”

“Mr. Lane, we operate with the utmost respect for the privacy of our patients and their choices. Our reputation indicates that we are the best at solving unique problems with unique solu—”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Also, won’t Colt figure it out too?”

“We have an airtight plan in place. As far as anyone will know outside of this room, you and your son were both injured in the car accident and you didn’t make it. However, we were aware of Colts need for a transplant and decided to test you to see if you were a match and that is how Colt gets the transplant.” The doctor must have considered his answer to be sufficient for Bodie because the oxygen mask was on his face before he could retort. “As for Colt, we will tell him the same thing, luckily, he passed out before you got in the car to bring him here. Now start at ten,” the doctor said as he turned the dials on a machine next to the bed.

“Ten,” Bodie said and inhaled deeply.

“Nine.”

“Eight,” Bodie closed his eyes and willed himself to go to continue.

“Seven,” Bodie saw Colt as a child. Colt had attempted to dress himself and ended up putting his head through the armhole of his shirt and only was able to get a single sock halfway on his foot.

“Six,” Colt was taking short hard breaths sitting on top of a bull in his first competition as a teenager. Bodie was right there next to him giving some last-minute pointers before the gate opened.

“Five” Bodie was starting to feel heavy now, his body relaxed and breaths came easy. He felt like he just finished a huge steak dinner at Colt and his favorite steakhouse and now it was time for nap.

“Four,” Bodie again prayed to a god he wasn’t sure existed. If there was a god why would a father have to choose to sacrifice himself so his son could live? Bodie never second guessed it, but it still didn’t make it fair.

“Thr—"