A Season for Goodbye

by Lurlene McDaniel

  At the crest of the mountain, they dismounted, tied their horses to trees, and went the rest of the way on foot. Once on the flat rock of the plateau, the three of them fanned out to search for the tepee of twigs Lacey had tied together to form the memorial.

  “Over here!” Katie called. “I found it.”

  Chelsea and Lacey hurried to where Katie was crouched, digging through a pile of dead leaves. The tepee was partially buried, and Chelsea held her breath, hoping that the laminated photo and Jillian’s diamond stud earring were still tied to it.

  “It’s come apart,” Katie said, lifting up the twigs in three parts. But from the corner of one of the sticks, the laminated photo dangled, and from its center the diamond caught the afternoon sunlight.

  Lacey and Chelsea sent up a cheer. Lacey said, “Some animal’s been nibbling on the corner of the photo—see?”

  She held it up and Chelsea saw teeth marks. “I guess it didn’t have much of an appetite for plastic,” she said.

  The photo looked faded, but Amanda still smiled from the center of their group. Chelsea felt a lump form in her throat. These days, she and Katie and Lacey looked older, more mature, healthier too. But Amanda looked the same, her gamine smile frozen in time. And ageless.

  Lacey cleared her throat and said roughly, “What was I thinking—wearing my hair that way? Why didn’t you two tell me how dorky I looked?”

  “And me without any makeup,” Chelsea added. “I guess I was too sick to care about such things.”

  Katie took the photo from Lacey’s trembling fingers. “Yeah, we were quite a bunch, weren’t we?”

  “Well, we’ve got work to do.” Lacey dusted her palms together and set about reattaching the tepee to the strips of leather that had come untied.

  Katie gently removed the diamond and buffed it on the front of her T-shirt. “Just like new,” she said, allowing the sun to glimmer off its surface. She reattached it to the photo, to a spot above Amanda’s head.

  In minutes, they had re-created the small memorial and planted it firmly into the ground. “I have an idea,” Lacey said, then set about gathering small rocks and piling them around the base of each stick. “Maybe this will keep it standing longer and keep little nibblers away.”

  When they were finished, they stood in a semicircle solemnly staring down at the marker. Chelsea missed her friends so much. It wasn’t fair that Amanda and Jillian had died so young.

  “We need to go.” Katie took her hand and pulled her from the darkness of her thoughts.

  Yet they hadn’t taken but a few steps when Chelsea stopped, turned back toward the memorial, and felt a shiver of foreboding course through her.

  “You all right?” Katie asked.

  “I—I had a chill.”

  “But it’s almost eighty degrees,” Lacey said. “How can you be cold?”

  “Not that kind of chill,” Chelsea said. “Another kind. Like a premonition or something.”

  Katie and Lacey exchanged glances. “What about?”

  “Like something bad is going to happen.”

  All around them, the air was thick with silence. Birds had stopped chirping and insects humming. “It’s just the moment,” Lacey said briskly. “It’s just because we were all thinking so hard about Amanda and Jillian. That’s all.”

  But Chelsea knew what she’d felt. And she’d always had an uncanny sixth sense. “No,” she said. “It’s more than that. Something bad is going to happen this summer. I know it is. I just know it.”

  Seven

  “DO YOU LIKE the idea of writing and producing our own play?” Katie looked around the circle of girls seated in the rec room as she asked the question. They nodded enthusiastically. All except for Dullas, who sat slumped in her chair, her baseball cap pulled low over her eyes.

  “We’d like one hundred percent participation,” Lacey added, steadying her gaze on Dullas.

  “It sounds like fun,” Suzanne bubbled. Her thick curly hair bounced on her shoulders.

  Chelsea offered, “And we’ll be working with the boys from counselor McKensie’s room, so we need to come up with a play that has plenty of parts for casting. We’ll be making all the sets too, and Lacey will be in charge of makeup. And once the play’s put together, it’ll be videotaped for all of Jenny House to watch.”

  The younger girls giggled self-consciously and started discussing it among themselves. Katie asked, “Do you have any suggestions, Dullas?”

  “I think it sounds stupid.”

  “And I think you need an attitude adjustment,” Lacey quickly declared.

  “Are you going to give it to me?”

  Katie’s hand shot out to keep Lacey from springing off her chair and possibly slugging Dullas. “Look, we’d like you to join in. This project is supposed to be fun.”

  “Well, I’m not having fun.”

  Ignoring Dullas, Chelsea picked up several notepads and passed them out. “Are any of you writers?” A few hands were raised.

  “I have an idea.” Suzanne spoke timidly. “Why don’t we write a play about a bunch of sick kids who meet in a hospital and become friends and put on a talent show.”

  Several heads bobbed in approval. “And maybe their talent show can raise money for one kid’s operation or something,” Latika suggested.

  Michelle had a sudden coughing spasm. Lacey scooted off her chair and knelt in front of the tiny girl plagued by cystic fibrosis. “Are you okay? Should I call one of the nurses?”

  Michelle nodded to the first question and shook her head to the second. A fine sheen of perspiration had broken out on her face. “Please don’t tell a nurse,” Michelle whispered hoarsely between coughs. “They’ll make me go to bed, and I want to work on the play more than anything.”

  “But if you’re sick—”

  “Please!” Michelle’s eyes filled with tears.

  Torn by indecision, Lacey looked to Katie, who shrugged. “All right,” Lacey told Michelle. “But if you begin to feel worse, promise me you’ll go straight up to bed.”

  Michelle promised, and the girls broke into small groups, with Chelsea taking charge of the writing session. Dullas remained slouched in her chair, refusing to join in the activity.

  “What are we going to do with her?” Lacey asked Katie privately.

  “I don’t know. I’ve tried everything. In the room, she’s a perfect slob, refusing to hang up any of her clothes or even to be polite to anyone. She hogs the bathroom and uses awful language. The others girls just ignore her, but I feel it’s my responsibility to pull her into the Jenny House family, if you know what I mean. I’m a counselor, after all. I shouldn’t let her get to me. She’s just a kid.”

  Lacey nodded. “I know where you’re coming from, but you can’t make her have a good time. She’s got to want to have fun.”

  “It’s not as if we can send her home either. Kimbra says she still doesn’t have a foster family lined up to take her. I feel sorry for her.”

  Lacey gave an impatient wave. “Pooh. I don’t feel sorry for her. She has a choice, you know. She can make an effort.” Lacey turned her attention back onto Katie. “How’re things with you and Josh?”

  “Peaceful coexistence right now. He hasn’t bugged me once about college and the track scholarship offer. It’s great to not have that tension between us—more like old times.”

  “But it won’t last forever. Sooner or later you’re going to have to make a choice.”

  “Later is fine with me,” Katie said with a laugh.

  Just then a shriek pierced the air and Katie and Lacey rushed toward the group of girls, who all sat gaping at Suzanne. Behind her stood Dullas. She was holding Suzanne’s beautiful blond hair in her hand and smiling gleefully. “It’s a wig,” Dullas cried. “I knew your hair was fake and this proves it.”

  Suzanne sat sobbing, hiding her face with her hands. Her head was marked up with bright blue lines in a systematic pattern that indicated some form of medical technology.

  Katie knelt to
soothe and comfort her. The other girls looked horror-struck and Michelle began to weep empathetically.

  Chelsea snatched the wig from Dullas and handed it to Katie. “It happened so fast,” she said, sounding flustered. “I didn’t even see her come up behind us.”

  “Why did you do it?” Katie demanded of Dullas, unable to hide the quiver of anger in her voice.

  “She makes such a big deal of her hair every day. I figured she was trying to fool everybody into thinking it was really hers. She’s just a big fake!”

  Katie hugged Suzanne and placed the wig in the girl’s lap. “It’s all right, honey. You’re beautiful with or without your wig, and you wear it if you want.”

  “What are the lines on your head for?” Latika asked, her eyes wide as saucers.

  “I have some cancer in my brain,” Suzanne said in a thick small voice. “The marks are so that the radiologist knows where to aim the X-ray machine to kill the bad cells. All my hair fell out. My daddy bought me the wig to wear until my hair grows back.”

  Katie stroked the luxurious blond hair and counted to ten under her breath. She had to deal with Dullas, yet all she felt like doing was slapping the girl. “Dullas, what you did was mean, and you owe Suzanne an apology.”

  Dullas blew air through her lips. “Fat chance.”

  Lacey stepped forward. “Allow me to handle this.” She gripped Dullas firmly by the shoulders and marched her to the stairwell, opened the door, and pushed her inside. The door slammed shut with a metallic click that sounded like a shot. “Let’s talk,” Lacey said, her voice cold as ice in the hollow stairwell.

  “Let go of me.” Dullas twisted, trying to free herself.

  “In due time.” Lacey dug her fingers into Dullas’s thin shoulders and glared down at the defiant girl. Dullas was a sloppy sight. Boxer shorts showed below the hem of each leg of her baggy shorts. Her T-shirt was stained and tattered on one arm. Her baseball cap was pulled low, hiding her eyes. Lacey pulled off the cap.

  “Hey, give it back to me.” Dullas made a grab, but Lacey held it out of her reach. Dullas’s bald head looked pale and slick, and Lacey almost gave in to pity.

  Lacey said, “I’ll give it back to you once we get a few things straight. First of all, J don’t feel sorry for you because you have cancer. I think you’re a snotty little brat. But because you’re in Katie’s room and because Katie’s my friend, I’m going to offer you some friendly advice.”

  Lacey leaned her face into Dullas’s until their noses were almost touching. “Shape up and be nice or I’ll personally make certain you have the most miserable summer of your earthly existence.”

  Dullas opened her mouth, but Lacey clamped her hand over it. “I’m not finished. Don’t take me on, kid, because you’ll lose. I’m bigger than you and a whole lot meaner. I know all the tricks because I’ve used them myself. In short, you’ve met your match, Dullas. Now, you march your little fanny out there, tell Suzanne you’re sorry, and then start helping us with the play.”

  Lacey felt Dullas’s mouth working against the palm of her hand. “Don’t even think about biting me,” she warned softly. “Because I will bite you back.” She removed her hand.

  Dullas glowered up at her. “I’ll tell on you.”

  “And who are people going to believe?” Lacey put on her most innocent expression. “A valued counselor such as myself? Or a notorious brat?”

  “I hate you!”

  “You’re breaking my heart.”

  “I never wanted to come here. HRS made me.”

  “Well, you are here, so make the best of it.” Lacey saw that Dullas was starting to look desperate, like a caged animal trapped in a corner. “There are worse places to be,” Lacey ventured.

  “How would you know?”

  “I was in the hospital last spring,” Lacey told her, surprising herself with her admission. “I hated the hospital, so most any place looks better to me than that. Especially a place like this where there’s a hundred fun things to do.”

  “Everybody here is a fake. They say they care, but they don’t. Nobody cares for nobody except themselves.”

  “I think you’re wrong. I think everybody here cares, but you’ve got to be willing to let them care. You can’t poke people with sticks and then wonder why they don’t come around you.”

  “What do you know?”

  “I told you, I wrote the book on how to alienate people with a single glance.” She thought of Jeff. “And sometimes it’s hard to convince people you’ve changed after you decide you want to belong again.”

  “Well, I’m not interested in changing. Or belonging. I just want all of you to leave me alone.”

  “That can be arranged,” Lacey said. She stepped away from Dullas and reached for the door handle. “But if you want to be left alone, then we expect the same courtesy. You leave us alone too. No more mean pranks. No more ugly moods. Just crawl away and sulk all by your lonesome.”

  Confusion crossed Dullas’s face. “That’s what I want.”

  “A deal,” Lacey said, holding out her hand. “Shake on it.”

  Tentatively, Dullas offered Lacey her hand. Lacey shook it firmly, turned, and marched out of the stairwell, leaving Dullas behind.

  Yet the moment Lacey stepped into the rec room, she knew something was wrong. “It’s Michelle,” Katie told her. “We had to call a nurse. They’ve taken her to the infirmary. She’s running a fever, Lacey. She’s really sick. I’m sure they’re going to send her home.”

  Eight

  LACEY MISSED DINNER because she spent the evening sitting in the infirmary holding Michelle’s hand. The girl was hooked to an oxygen tank and medicated, but she clung to Lacey fiercely. Lacey was told that Michelle’s parents had been called and had given instructions for her to be transported to the nearest hospital where they would meet her and take her home. Lacey felt pity for Michelle and seethed silently. It wasn’t fair that Michelle wanted to stay so much and couldn’t. And Dullas wanted so much to leave and had to stay.

  “There’s always next year,” Lacey told Michelle as an ambulance crew loaded her into the ambulance for the ride to the hospital. It was nearly dusk, and a small crowd of personnel had gathered to watch the departure. Kimbra tucked a teddy bear under the covers and assured Michelle that there would always be room for her at Jenny House. Lacey watched as the emergency vehicle pulled away, its lights making eerie crimson patches on the surrounding trees.

  “You all right?” Kimbra asked.

  “Fine,” Lacey lied.

  “We’ve still got the Western party going on down in the rec room tonight. You should come join us. It’ll take your mind off Michelle.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not much in the mood.”

  Kimbra reached out and brushed Lacey’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry. We’ll do some juggling and get another camper for your room.”

  “No rush,” Lacey said.

  Once the others had left, Lacey headed toward the woods. The evening air felt cool and slightly damp. Thunder rumbled in the distant mountains, promising rain for later that night. In the quiet of the tree-draped trail, she finally allowed herself to cry, and she might have kept on crying if she hadn’t heard Jeff calling her name. Quickly she wiped her eyes and answered. She saw him jogging toward her through the gloom and waited until he stopped in front of her.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

  “I was just trying to get myself back together. I’m fine now.”

  “Are you?”

  “I said I was, didn’t I?” She turned, but he caught her and forced her to look into his eyes.

  “Don’t brush me off, Lacey. I know you’re upset.” “Of course I’m upset. Wouldn’t you be if the person you were in charge of got sick and had to go home?”

  “It’s a place for sick kids, Lacey. You should have figured something like this could happen.”

  “Well, I didn’t.” She crossed her arms defiantly.

  “And what are you going to do about i
t?”

  “There’s nothing I can do. Kimbra said she’ll assign another girl to me. Easy come—easy go.”

  “Why do you act this way?”

  “What way?”

  “Why do you act like you’re coping when you’re not? Why don’t you just admit that you hate being around sick people? That nothing’s changed since last summer?”

  She shoved him hard, almost throwing him off balance. “Don’t go telling me how I feel! You don’t know what I’m feeling or thinking.”

  Jeff quickly regained his balance and stepped in front of her again. “I know exactly what you’re thinking and feeling. You’re remembering last summer when Amanda got sick and died. You’re scared that’s going to happen to Michelle, aren’t you?”

  “Stop grilling me! I came to Jenny House to help and now I can’t even do that.”

  “And what happened to Amanda never crossed your mind,” he challenged.

  “Of course it did.” She was shouting at him, but couldn’t stop herself.” And I’ve thought about how I almost died last spring. And how Katie almost died. And Chelsea. And let’s not forget Jillian. She died just like Amanda. Don’t tell me I don’t know the facts of life at Jenny House, Jeff. I know them, all right. But you have no right to accuse me of pretending to ignore reality.

  “I had a bad day, all right? Dullas acted like a perfect creep and I wanted to strangle her. Then Michelle got sick and had to be taken away by ambulance. Wouldn’t that count as a bad day in anybody’s book?”

  “But you said you were fine when I asked you how you felt.” His voice was low and almost growling. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth the first time I asked?”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because I—” He stopped himself. “Because that’s the way you handled things last summer and in Miami while you let your diabetes get out of control. You pretended all was well when it wasn’t. And you pushed me away every chance you got.”

  Suddenly, it dawned on her what was bothering him. “Is that what you think I was doing? Pushing you away?”