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The last time Sydney and Jedidiah spoke before the former got sick and the latter got so damn scared, they fought. It wasn’t one of their big fights, how could yous and don’t do that agains. It was, though, the kind of fight that one remembers. The kind that Jedidiah lays awake thinking about, while Sydney is anything but awake.
Sydney told him once that Cuckoo birds’ mothers place their eggs in another birds’ nest. He said it made him feel better about staying with Jeddie. That was in what, fifth grade? Sydney told him, two years later, that cuckoos are parasites. They drive the host chicks away. Jeddie knew what Sydney was saying, told him that he deserved the attention, it’s okay, Sydney. Because it was okay.
It isn’t okay any more. Five years after Sydney said cuckoos were parasites, they were going to graduate. Sydney said he wanted to move out of Lucille’s house. “Live alone? You’re…Sydney, you’d hurt yourself.” He looked out of the window behind the bed they were both sitting on, with the pale blue comforter.
“If you’re going to stay,” Sydney continued, voice calm like he didn’t understand how scary this was. “Then I don’t want to take up your space.” Of course. He knows this, he knows that it’s a sacrifice. That’s why he wants to do it, isn’t it? Jedidiah is too much – weird kid focusing on making sure his friend doesn’t die even if it means crying himself to sleep if he doesn’t know exactly where he is. Selfish, selfless, either way not enough of either for Sydney to stay with him.
“M–Lucille takes care of both of us. You don’t need to worry about it. We’re doing okay, right?” He scrutinised every detail of Sydney’s face, eyes scrunching in annoyance that went down to that little symmetrical crinkle on his nose bridge while his mouth attempted to maintain that unconvincing smile, which dropped as he started to laugh. Jedidiah does not want to hear Sydney laugh – there’s nothing wrong with laughter, especially not his, but that’s his that’s fucked up laugh. The one that makes Jedidiah’s sigh catch in his lungs because he said something wrong.
“I’d have given everything for my mom to cook for me, play games with me, give a shit at all-” Sydney hisses. “And you’d give it up for some parasite?” He looked tired. “I’m not going to have your or Lucille’s shoulder to lean on all my life, I need to get used to it. And– and I’ll want to do different things as you at some point, we probably won’t go to the same college, and-”
“We should still stick together,” Jedidiah said, not waiting for Sydney to finish. “It doesn’t take anything away from you if you’re here as long as you can be.”
“I don’t want to stay here. I can take care of myself.” He says, and Jeddie’s chest hurts. For a second, he thought his heart broke. The next second, he checked it against prior experiences and decided nope. Panic attack.
“It- you don’t have to- can you leave?” Jeddie choked out. He did not want Sydney to see him like that, eyes wet and hands shaking over him. It wasn’t Sydney’s fault that he wanted to leave, that he wanted a shred of independence past Lucille’s curfews and stiff expectations. Playing games, giving a shit at all, but that’s not what Sydney wanted, was it? Sydney left the room, coming back five minutes later with water and back rubs. Jedidiah remembers every moment of it.
–
Two years after Sydney calls himself a parasite in plain English, after he’s been a little sick for a little while, when he’s hungry but not starving, cold but not freezing, they go out. They haven’t seen each other a lot since graduation – sure, Sydney texts daily to vent about his goddamn roommate and gets Jeddie to share the smallest bit about what he’d been fussing over now that he’s not around. They’re holding hands in some food court.
Jedidiah checks on Sydney’s face, how he’s doing, the way he’s done since they were young. He seems calm, maybe he’s better off without– no. He says he misses him. But his eyes look distant. He started walking with a cane soon after leaving, and he looks pale, but Jeddie can’t ask what’s up, can he?
He feels like flipping the metaphor, twisting it and wrenching it, because cuckoo birds push their host chicks out. Jeddie, though, let the cuckoo chick his mom took in fly the nest without so much as a promise that he can come back whenever he wants. He shouldn’t be as torn about this as he is – he knows it. If Jedidiah’s not enough for him, that’s his problem.
“Sydney, what do you think you’re going to do? After school, I mean.” He picks at some mediocre sandwich he bought, trying and failing to get out of his own head. Sydney hasn’t been able to eat without throwing up thanks to his new curse – the witch apparently said there was one food he could eat, but that’s still yet to be discovered, so Sydney just brings his thermos of tea. Jeddie should’ve told Sydney not to go out and get cursed, but what would that even do? He’s not helping, he can’t help, he can’t fix it.
“I don’t know,” he says in that soft voice that makes Jeddie wish he was with Sydney all the time. “I think I’d like to – nevermind. I’m not sure.” He takes a sip of the tea that he says is chamomile with a spoonful of that protein shake stuff to make sure he doesn’t die while he figures out what he can still eat.
“I hope we, um, stay friends throughout.” Jeddie fails to be casual, he thinks he sounds pathetic. Like he’s about to cry, maybe, because he can’t help. And, for all he knows and can’t let himself forget, he doesn’t remember what happened between him checking his watch immediately following (3:42 PM) and Sydney fainting (4:11 PM). He did something wrong, he must’ve. He needs to try harder, or the best person in his life will– he doesn’t know, and if he could just–
–
A year after Jeddie decides that actually, he’s the parasite, he’s trying to be okay. And that Sydney will be – this isn’t how Sydney’s going to die. He was going to die younger than this if half of Jedidiah’s panic attacks from the ages twelve to seventeen over the other boy’s mental state meant anything, and older if it was true that he was really safe living on his own – well, not on his own alone, but from what he’d told him, Joshua didn’t seem like the most help. Either way, he feels dead on his feet.
Now the hospital is crowded like a nest, even if the mother bird is not just caring for the impostor out of necessity – the smiling nurse seems to have always wanted a cuckoo to care for. The metaphor doesn’t really work any more, but Jeddie’s mad. Actually angry. The nurse ignores him whenever he asks when Sydney’s going to get better, even as that when becomes an if and Jeddie starts taking notes. Things he’d tell Sydney – if he could – if they weren’t about him.
There’s once when he waits for the coast to be clear, the hovering nurse out of the room to go to the bathroom or attend to someone else for once, Jedidiah brings in the light blue radio. It’s his mom’s, but she gave it to him. His eleventh birthday, maybe? Now it’s a gift to Sydney, because Sydney made his choice to leave and now Jedidiah just can’t. It’s some live recording, some concert that’s being broadcast for whatever reason.
It’s good to be young, but let’s not kid ourselves.
Sydney left. Jeddie stays. That’s not fair, is it? It can’t be – Sydney mustn’t want Jeddie like Jeddie wants him. Who knows, though? Jeddie’s always been weird, either protective or negligent, and he’s never known what Sydney wants.
It’s better to pass on through those years and come out the other side, hearts still beating.
He stands over Sydney’s bed, watching his eyelids flutter and fuck, he looks so pale. Damnit, damnit, damnit. For all he told Sydney he wouldn’t follow, he did still drop out of trade school to make worrying his full-time job. Lucille was pissed about that one, but she doesn’t have to pay his tuition any more. Even though he was half a year from graduating, he still can’t fix anything.
Having stared down demons.
He sighs into his hand, standing up straight as he hears somebody walk past – might be that nurse again. He realizes he’s crying, eyes wet like he’s a sad goddamn puppy who lost his owner. He can’t help, and for that he can’t have Sydney, and for that he’s the worst.
Come back breathing.
He watches the rise and fall of Sydney’s chest with help of whatever machines are making him stay cold, but not frozen. Then like clockwork (12:25 AM), the nurse comes in again. Jedidiah shuts off the radio as he leaves. “Do you think there’s any–do you still want to–” he stutters into the open air.
“Tell me, Sydney, can I be forgiven for missing you?