Organ - Chapter 1

ORGAN

"It begins in our familiar flesh. Soft, raw and unseen, the rot threading through our organs like whispered sin. But it never stays buried. It creeps outward, into voices, into glances, into the dreams of those we love, until their hearts pulse with the same quiet corruption." - Unknown

Chapter One

Oscar Rubens lived alone with his mother, Mary. She idolised her precious little man as her only child. Overbearing at times, but loving, nonetheless. They had lost their father, Marys husband, when Oscar was a vulnerable toddler. Ever since then her son has been the rock that kept Mary tethered to the home and away from the waves that tried to drag her away into guzzling pits of sorrow.

“Oscar are you going for a shower?” Mary called up the stairs, her voice carried and sounded clear through closed doors.

“I will in a bit, just doing something on the computer really quick” Oscar called back, hearing her footsteps already making their way up the stairs as his voice did not have the same booming capacity, he let out a gentle sigh. 

The door swung open, and she stepped in looking flustered, it wasn’t unusual during a work week. It had been a while since Oscar had become unemployed, last working in retail and hating every waking second of it. It had long been a childhood dream of his to travel and see other worlds, but when his father passed he was left as a young toddler to care for his mother. Travelling, adventure, excitement and fantasy had to be placed on the backburner for the better part of his growing life.

“Can you jump in now please? I have work in a bit and need to start getting ready. If you aren’t taking it, I will” she instructed, picking up dirty clothes from the floor of her sons room. 

Oscar could never really tell how angry she was, but it seemed wise to listen.

“Okay, okay, okay” he mumbled in acceptance, shutting the laptop screen and hopping off the bed.

“Don’t take too long” she requested leaving the room.

Oscar did think to call out why she wasn’t just going to shower now, but his sense of self-preservation fought the urge. He discarded his clothes down onto the bathroom floor, jumped in minding his feet on the loose grip mat and got the water to the right setting. He soaped up, rinsed, and soaped up once more for good measure with the blue body wash that never appeared to deplete. Then he noticed it, a lump in his stomach. Oscar paused and felt around the area again to confirm, there it was, far to the right of his belly button, a hard small lump, it wasn’t there yesterday he thought to himself moving his head out of the stream momentarily, he searched his memory for a recollection of this weirdness growing on his body, but it was certainly new. Oscar switched off the water and stepped out the shower, threw on some fresh clothes his mother had laid out for him and called for her attention.

“Mum, can you come up here please?” his voice was steady but laced with concern, up the stairs his frustrated mother came still fiddling with her work bits getting herself ready for the day. “Can you have a look at this and tell me what it is? I found a bump on my stomach” Oscar explained, Mary pulled his shirt slightly up beyond where Oscar held it between his still wet fingers and examined the issue.

“I don’t know, could be a cyst, or a bite” Mary was guessing options that Oscar had already dismissed. “I will call the doctors for you now; I don’t like leaving these things” she explained with authority as she bounced back down the stairs in a hurry.

Oscar didn’t like the idea of going to the doctor’s office for something so trivial, but fighting her on this would have been futile, when it came to Oscars health, his mother did not play around with the if’s, but’s or maybe’s. The appointment was arranged, somehow his mother had convinced the doctor’s office to see him on the same day,

“That poor receptionist” he laughed when Mary told him of the appointment time.

Oscar knew he could get this out the way early in the morning and still have time to find that holiday in the evening. With all the spare time on his hands now and the better part of his last salary left in the bank, he created daydreamy plans to rekindle his zest for life.

“They want you in at ten Oscar” his mother called out in confirmation across the house, her voice rattling off the walls and threatening the glass in the frames.

“That’s good, I can walk there, shouldn’t take me long” Oscar replied thinking of the playlist for the journey, Mary did not hear him respond.

“Oscar?” she called back.

Oscar left his room and headed for the kitchen to tell her in person that he will walk to his appointment. The house on Lancaster Drive was large enough for the two of them, snug enough for a family of three, but with his father out of the picture for the majority of his life it did sometimes feel devoid of something. Wafts of familiar perfume from his mother’s room clung to the wallpaper and carpets, it was something that Oscar had grown to associate with safety.

“I said, I don’t mind walking there today, should be nice if the weather stays clear” he explained entering the kitchen, Oscar watched amused as his mother crammed her last bite of toast in her mouth and frantically buzzed about getting herself put together to leave, if anxiety was a movement, this was what he watched.

“Good” she mumbled back through the crummy mouthful of her breakfast, “Don’t be late, they don’t have any leniency when it comes to appointment times, those receptionist can be rude as anything so get there early” she carried on instructing even as she went for the door. Oscar leaned against the door frame and watched her while nodding vacantly at her many requests.

“I won’t be late” he quietly replied, “What time are you in work till?” Oscar asked.

“God knows, probably late, we are two teachers down and they are asking the TA’s to help grading these tests from last week” Mary was seemingly becoming worn out just explaining the day ahead of her.

Oscar hated that his mum worked so hard, the higher ups had completely drained her enthusiasm but still she persisted and stuck by the position even with funding dropping across the county.

“Well that all sounds horrible, we can watch a film later if you want. I saw this new horror movie about this mother who kidnaps her sons wife” Oscar suggested, Mary stopped in her tracks and smiled up at her boy, shuffling over with her bag on her shoulder, she gave him a big kiss on the forehead.

“Now THAT sounds horrible, I can’t wait” she replied beaming a huge smile back at her boy, her voice softened, sounded like her old self Oscar thought.

“Or we can watch the Thing or Alien in honour of my new appendage” Oscar joked as Mary stepped out the front door.

“That isn’t funny, call me when you get out of the doctors okay? If I can’t answer I will call you back” she commanded, Oscar nodded and smiled a cheeky grin to lift her mood again. Mary smiled back mirroring his large silly grin and told her son she loves him before shutting the door behind her.

It was later in the morning, Oscar was strolling across the cracks in the pavement on his journey, he fiddled with the headphones that sang old emo-tunes from his school days all too loudly into his ears. Sunshine baked the streets with yellow handsy rays, they bounced off shop windows and cars passing him by as he pressed onwards in the vague direction of his local doctor’s office. Typically, Oscar wasn’t the type of person to descend into these medical panics, he assumed it was just another weird body defect without much concern in the careless way that the young see themselves as invincible. Mentioning any health issues in the presence of his mother was always risky business, her enduring mission to protect her child was one she took excruciatingly seriously, often much to his frustrations. Oscar glanced down at his phone as it vibrated in his hand, “Good luck today xxx” read the message from Mum, it was a cheeky message she sent during class because of the time. Working in tandem the weather and his playlist had driven him to his destination faster than he had anticipated.

Oscar sat on the knee-high dusty brick wall outside the doctor’s office and switched off his music, tucking his earphones into his pocket. Oscar inherited dense hair from his mother, shaved closely at the sides, it would often drift into his vision and irritate him something rotten. Much like his father before him, Oscar had a rugged handsomeness to him, even if it was outbalanced by his awkwardness around new people, especially women. Breeze carrying time slowed as he sat upon that red brick wall that scratched at the back of his uncovered calves, the day was soothing and as the warmth fell down upon his shoulders with massaging grasping hands, Oscar picked himself up and entered the doctor’s office for his allotted appointment.

He recalled his mother telling him that these receptionist run the doctor’s office with finely tuned authority, one minute late and you are done, no service for you, it made him chuckle to himself as he tried to make his entrance into the building a peaceful one. Inside the office the natural light could hardly be observed, it was as if the outside world were unwelcome, the entry way was dimly lit and was even less visible with the haze of the sun spots wearing off on Oscars eyes. Two heavy clicks echoed behind him as the uncomfortably heavy door latched closed with a thud and a clank.

“Hello, how can I help?” a feint but unquestionably aged voice called out from behind the desk.

 “Hello, I have an appointment this morning” Oscar replied with a pleasant timber to this voice, he counted himself lucky every time it did not break.

“What is the name on the booking sweetheart?” the now visible receptionist asked him again, older than he had expected for a role in a health facility but kind faced and seemingly eager.

Oscar smiled warmly at the receptionist as he replied “Oscar Rubens.”

After she confirmed his appointment was on time, the woman gestured half-heartedly with a shaking hand to a seating area in the room adjacent. Oscar sat patiently in what was thankfully a more generously illuminated waiting room, he pulled out his phone swiping aimlessly around the home screen while trying to recall the apps that do not require internet access. For reasons unknown to him, the signal died at the door of this weathered old building. It wasn’t long before his tour of the medical materials covering the walls and nearby leaflet stands was over, boredom swiftly took its place. Blurry figures came and went from the room that Oscar caught out the corner of his eye, the clock that played a continues ticking note was the only sound that entertained the room besides the occasional sniffle and stifled coughing fit that would fill the room of waiting patients with nervous concerned glances. Oscar poked at the small hardness that sat under his skin below his rib cage and was all at once pleased that his mother had gone ahead and booked the appointment, paranoia was a prevalent spectre in his household, and it did not help his composure to dwell on such things. Jarring tones from a call room bell tore apart the accepted hush in the waiting room, it was followed by the same feint, but now harsh with metallic intercom echo.

“Oscar Rubens to room three……that’s Oscar Rubens to room three. Thank you.”

Scooping up his bag and clicking off his phone in a completely unwarranted rush he made his way out of the waiting area and down the corridor, glancing into the void of the only open door he passed, he caught sight of an elderly man staring off into a distant memory, perhaps lost in his happy place, as a doctor pressed a stethoscope to his chest. It sent odd chills down his spine; the young man was not sure why. Oscar stood outside room three, he noticed the chipping paint from the door frame, was the building underfunded or simply undermaintained he thought to himself. Wrapping on the door with one curled up finger, the young man waited for the expected welcoming before he swung it open with awkward jarring purpose and stepped in, closing the door behind him.

“Mr Rubens?” the gentle voiced doctor questioned.

Oscar nodded and smiled without baring his teeth, one of those passing stranger grins that everyone self teaches. His doctor for the afternoon gestured to a reclining table for him to sit upon as the professional turned back to her computer, presumably to read over the notes from his complaint when making the appointment. Oscar noticed the tight bun that held her hair in place, it looked silky from the stress of her job, but her face was kind and devoid of worry lines. Warm air circled the small room via an open window, bright particles of dust danced through the rays of light, this crack through the blinds would occasionally offer glimpses outside as they gently bobbed back and forth against the glass. Oscar again found himself reading pointless materials from the sparsely decorated walls that spoke of cancer and other such horrendous human curses.

“I can see from your notes that you’ve noticed a small spot in your abdomen, is that right?” the doctor posed the question as she once again swivelled her chair to face him sat upon the table.

“Yes that’s right, I noticed it this morning and whatever it is seems to be the size of my fingernail” Oscar replied, he then pointed up his thumbnail to indicate about which nail he was referencing.

He shifted awkwardly on the plastic-coated table. The doctor nodded in acknowledgment as she pulled a small pair of baby blue latex gloves from a rolling table, they wafted a sickening plastic smell into the air.

“I am going to have a look for you and make sure it is nothing you need to worry about, these small bumps are typically just skin conditions that are completely harmless,” her words did give Oscar comfort as he laid back on the table, following the doctors’ gestures, if it was faux comfort, it was felt and appreciated.

Pulling up his shirt just below his ribs the doctor calmly asked him to point out where exactly he found the concern, bringing up his hand he placed two fingers on the culprit and confirmed that was indeed the problem area by testing it with those two fingers. Lying still and staring up awkwardly at the ceiling, he digested mental notes of the various bobbles of uneven paint around the lighting fixtures in the office, she had now been examining his abdomen for a few seconds in silence only broken by the occasional confirmation that she was not hurting him and the excited metallic clanking blinds on the glass. Oscar winced in pain as the doctor applied some force to the swelling, she noticed the twitch in his body and apologised with snapping haste, plucking off her gloves she rolled back to her computer and tapped away frantically while Oscar pulled down his top and sat himself back up again, this time without instruction, he didn’t feel it necessary to let her poke at him again.

It seemed as though hours slithered past, he stared cautiously at the back of his doctor’s head while she flicked through various pages on her desktop, Oscar once again noticed her bun swaying back and forth as she turned her head, it was tied together with a broken elastic and bounced a sheen of light. Finally, the doctor spun once more back around to face Oscar who now half stood leaning against the table fidgeting with the bolts underneath its edge.

“Okay Mr Rubens, what I have noticed is that while the inflammation does not have any obvious or traditional signs of something to worry about, I would like you to go for an ultrasound if the lump continues to grow. Give us a call again if you notice any changes to size or pains developing and we can arrange it with the hospital.,”

Oscar toyed with the words in his head as he nodded along vacantly to the next few sentences. Instructed to measure it with his fingers once a week, Oscar thanked her repeatedly before dashing off, he now had more questions chewing away at him than he had prior to his visit that day. It was unlike him to barrage a stranger with questions so he stuffed them down, his mother would have hated that, he thought aloud as a crude smile dug into the corner of his mouth. On his walk home Oscar kept glancing at his phone, multiple messages from his mum sat lingering in the notification bar that he was deliberately ignoring, she was a hysterical panicked hypochondriac, always had been as far as Oscar knew. He had no patience or energy to entertain her notions of sickness that afternoon. The streets filled with busy shoppers in a hum of blended chatter about his ears, doom and gloom could wait until he got home that evening, he told himself with stoic conviction. Dropping into the last coffee shop before the high-street ended, some chain that came up from the big city, Oscar paused his walk home for a quick drink before heading back to his mother who was no doubt waiting anxiously at home, Oscar delighted at the attractive face staring up from behind the counter and into his eyes with aware beauty.

“What can I get you?” she posed as Oscar now frantically glanced up at the indecipherable menu. In his fluster it was as if he had forgotten how to read English or developed a rather aggressive form of dyslexia.

“Just a coffee please, with oat milk” he fumbled out through a half smile, once again drawing out his phone as the barista went about his order, he noted the number of missed calls and messages before stuffing it back into his pocket and thanking the barista as she handed him the scoldingly hot beverage.

Taking a few steps to the side, getting out of the way of the flowing queue, he found an unclaimed stool beside the shop window, sat down gingerly with the burning beverage in hand and blew the steam away from the mug, staring vacantly out of the window and counting cars as they flew past the high street outside. His phone buzzed once more in his pocket snapping him out of his harmless daydream.

“Okay” he laboured out of an exasperated breath as he finally accepted his fate and read through the messages.

One after another he opened and closed various unhinged notions of worry from his mum as he sipped painstakingly at the still boiling coffee. Another laboured breath left his lips as the realisation struck that his evening at home would not be a relaxing one in any sense of the word. From her text messages Oscar gathered that she was home grading papers, and he suspected reading up on horror stories about medical phenomena no doubt, he was now preparing himself for the inquisition that would follow. Tipping the last few drops out of his coffee cup onto his exposed fleshy tongue, he began to edge out of his seat, a sharp pain abruptly met his midsection and caused him to pause, grasping the tables edge. He discreetly felt at his stomach and located the lump that had caused the fuss this morning at the doctor’s office, pressing gently against it he experienced yet another intrusive stabbing pain that now shot up his body and into his neck, as though a cramp had utilised a stitch, the pain was intense. Small shallow gasps of pained breath left his throat as he waited for the hurt to subside, planting his empty mug on the store counter he made for a swift exit as the barista watched him almost run out of the shop.

“Goodbye!” she called out pressing onto her tip-toes.

Oscar’s mind flashed with images of his day coming to an end, the uncomforting diagnosis from his trip to the doctor’s office gave him no real answers and his sudden cramping out in the wild made it all too real, convincing himself that the stress was causing this, or perhaps it was from drinking his coffee too fast, he accepted the events and continued on his journey home as the odd stomach ache subsided. Fighting with the key in the front door of his family home, Oscar exercised some degree of caution to gain passage into his bedroom unseen. Unfortunately for the Rubens child, his mother inherited unusually keen hearing from her grandparents both of whom are equally nosey individuals, lovely kind hearted relatives, but nosey involved people, nonetheless. He could not have been ten steps into the hallway between the front door and the stair case before his mum descended upon like a swarm of flies onto rotting meat, clearly agitated from his lack of responses to her many messages she was heavier handed than usual. Oscar sought to disarm her rage by throwing on a comically large smile and going in for a hug. Mum accepted his oddly timed embrace; he knew she could not resist a cuddle from her little man but began her pent-up rant before the hug had even come to an end.

“I have been texting you all day, why aren’t you replying!” she barked watching as he took a step backwards to calibrate for her volume.

It seemed as though she was posing a question, but Oscar knew her better than that and declined an answer sensing more questions in the loaded chamber.

“Answer me Oscar, what happened today, I thought something had gone wrong, I barely got any work done I was worrying so much” her face drooped into a frown.

“I went for a walk through the high-street and got a coffee for lunch, I got talking to a girl that works there, I didn’t check my phone until a few seconds ago” he responded with some ego-building lies to excuse his behaviour, it was a bad habit but one the young man was too inexperienced to address.

Oscar offered his phone up as some barren gesture of apology, Mary stared at it blankly. Sensing his lie would not be well received he began taking off his shoes to avoid her burning stare, fiddling with the laces to kill some crucial scolding seconds.

“I was worried!” she snapped back with a noticeable pain in her voice, since her husband had passed she had become exceedingly overprotective of her son, he was twenty-one years old now, but the years past had crippled Mary emotionally, she no doubt saw the young man as a child in her eyes.

The situation became heavier than he wanted to carry, Oscar did not want to hurt her feelings, he stood up and embraced his mum for the second time with a warm hug. He noted that her hair smelt of coconut shampoo, it always did, something Oscar had come to associate with the feeling of love and safety, most of the time at least.

Mary responded better this time around and wrapped her arms back around her misbehaving boys shoulders. “I am really sorry” he said in an almost whisper.

Feeling the tension lifting from the room he knew that was all she wanted to hear, his mother loved him dearly and he often took that for granted, guilt did crawl across his mind regarding his lack of patience with his mum. Later that evening the pair sat down for dinner and went over everything the doctor discussed, his mother did seem to try and reign in her panicked fearmongering, but snippets of abrupt concern leaked throughout the conversation. Oscar reassured his mother with all the words his doctor has used on him, “the doctor said they are typically harmless…. just skin conditions” he mumbled out through a sip of water and a mouthful of boiled vegetables.

“Just keep me in the loop okay Hun, I want to make sure you take this seriously” she responded with forceful kindness.

It was more of a command than an appeal, but Oscar accepted it and smiled back in agreement. This back and forth of reassurance from the young man and his mother went on for the duration of their dinner, now the plates had been licked clean, and his mum seemed relatively calm, he assured her that he would take care of the washing up and instructed Mary to go settle down in front of the TV. Giving her son a gentle dry kiss on the forehead she made her way into the living room and out of sight, that coconut smell washing over him as she departed. Oscar smiled to himself and began piling up the plates and cutlery into a dirty stack at the dinner table. Lifting the small collection of porcelain and glass from the table he was met with another severe tear-jerking interruption of pain in his stomach; this time he was unable to physically stifle the sensations that penetrated his body and planted both hands upon the dinner table to catch himself. This was merely a temporary fix as his arms shook in falter before Oscar fell to the floor with a sickening heavy thud.

Plates crashed around him in an ear shattering roar as he shrank clutching his stomach calling out through uneven breaths and broken halfwords. Mary came bolting into the room at the sound of the broken plates and found her son now curled up like a wounded spider, hands tightly dug into his stomach.

“OSCAR! TELL ME WHATS WRONG!,” she screamed while attempting to remove his hands from his abdomen and pushing away shards of broken dishes and drinkware with her bare knees.

No words left his lips, no air now trickled out of his scrunched up mouth and clenched teeth, the room withered in darkness as the young man drifted into unconsciousness, the floor swallowing everything he saw, his mother frantically protecting him from broken shards of plate and food scraps. Her words faded into unintelligible gurgled murmurs as Oscar feinted. In his last fading snapshots of the conscious world, he made out the ever-decreasing sounds of his mother’s voice calling for an ambulance, with that his world went to a swallowing peaceful black sleep.