by Tillie Cole
“Rune. Baby,” I whispered to myself as I forced my feet to the door, as I made my hand turn the handle and ordered my heart to brace itself for the grief causing this scene.
My feet crunched on the thin, crisp layer of snow beneath my feet. Rune didn’t seem to hear. But I heard him. I heard his uncontrolled breathing. But worse still, I heard his racking sobs. I heard the pain overwhelm him. I saw it in the way he lurched forward, palms planted to the floor beneath him.
Failing to hold back my cries, I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around him. His bare skin was freezing to the touch. Seeming not to notice the cold, Rune collapsed into my lap, his long, broad torso seeking the comfort of my arms.
And he broke. Rune completely broke apart: floods of tears flowed down his cheeks, coarse breaths ghosted to white puffs of smoke as they hit the freezing air.
I rocked back and forth, holding him close. “Shh,” I soothed, trying in earnest to breathe through my own pain. The pain of seeing the boy I loved falling apart. The pain of knowing I had to pass soon, yet wanting to resist home’s call with all of my heart.
I had come to terms with my fading life. Now I wanted to fight to stay with Rune, for Rune, even knowing it was useless.
I wasn’t in control of my fate.
“Rune,” I whispered, my tears becoming lost in the long strands of his hair in my lap.
Rune looked up, his expression devastated, and asked hoarsely, “Why? Why do I have to lose you?” He shook his head and his face contorted in pain. “Because I can’t, Poppymin. I can’t watch you leave. I can’t bear the thought of not having you like this for the rest of our lives.” He choked on a sob, but managed to say, “How can a love like ours be broken? How can you be taken away so young?”
“I don’t know, baby,” I whispered, glancing away in an effort to hold myself together. The lights of New York sparkled in my line of sight. I chased away the grief that came with his asking those questions.
“It just is, Rune,” I said sadly. “There’s no reason why it’s me. Why not me? No one deserves this, yet I have to…” I trailed off, but managed to add, “I have to trust that there’s a bigger reason or I would crumble with the pain of leaving all I love behind.” I sucked in a breath and said, “With leaving you, especially after today. Especially after making love to you tonight.”
Rune stared into my tear-filled eyes. Gathering some composure, he got to his feet and lifted me into his arms. I was glad, because I felt too weak to move. I wasn’t sure I could have stood up from the cold, damp ground if I’d tried.
Linking my arms around Rune’s neck, I laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes as he carried me back inside and back to the bedroom. Pushing the comforter back, he placed me underneath, following behind and wrapping his arms around my waist as we faced one another on my pillow.
Rune’s eyes were red, his long hair was damp from the snow and his skin was mottled with the depth of his sadness. Lifting my hand, I ran it down his face. His skin was freezing.
Rune turned his face in to my palm. “Up on that stage tonight, I knew you were saying goodbye. And I…” His voice stuck, but he coughed and finished, “It made this all too real.” His eyes glossed with new tears. “It made me realize, this was really happening.” Rune held my hand and brought it to his chest. He squeezed it tightly. “And I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe when I try to imagine living without you. I’ve tried it once, and it didn’t go well. But … but at least you were alive, out there, somewhere. Soon … soon…” He cut off his words as the tears fell. He turned his head from my gaze.
I caught his retreating cheek. Rune blinked. “Are you scared, Poppymin? Because I’m terrified. I’m terrified of what the hell life looks like without you.”
I paused. I truly thought about his question. And I let myself feel the truth. I let myself be honest. “Rune, I’m not scared of dying.” I ducked my head, and the pain that had never taken me before suddenly filled my every cell. I let my head drop to his and whispered, “But since I got you back, since my heart regained its beat—you—I’ve been feeling all kinds of things that I hadn’t before. I pray for more time, just so I can live more days in your arms. I pray for longer minutes so you can gift me more kisses.” Dragging in a much-needed breath, I added, “But worst of all, I’m beginning to feel fear.”
Rune inched closer, his arm tightening around my waist. I lifted my shaking hand to his face. “I feel fear over leaving you. I’m not scared of dying, Rune. But I’m terrified of going anywhere new without you.” Rune’s eyes shut and he hissed as though in pain.
“I don’t know me without you,” I said quietly. “Even when you were in Oslo, I pictured your face, I would remember how your hand felt holding mine. I would play your favorite songs and I would read the kisses in my jar. Just like my mamaw told me to. And I would close my eyes and feel your lips on mine.” I allowed myself to smile. “I would remember the night we first made love and the feeling in my heart at that moment—fulfilled … at peace.”
I sniffed and quickly wiped at my damp cheeks. “Though you weren’t with me, you were in my heart. And that was enough to sustain me, even though I wasn’t happy.” I kissed Rune’s mouth, just to savor his taste. “But now, after this time back together, it’s made me fearful. Because who are we without each other?”
“Poppy,” Rune rasped.
My tears fell with reckless abandon and I cried, “I’ve hurt you by loving you so much. And now I have to go on an adventure without you. And I can’t bear how much it hurts you. I can’t leave you so lonely and in pain.”
Rune pulled me to his chest. I cried. He cried. We shared our fears of loss and love. My fingers rested on his back and I took comfort in his warmth.
When our tears had slowed, Rune gently pushed me back and searched my face. “Poppy,” he asked huskily, “what does heaven look like to you?”
I could see in his face that he desperately wanted to know. Gathering my composure, I declared, “A dream.”
“A dream,” Rune echoed, and I saw his lip hook up at the corner.
“I read once that when you dream each night, it’s actually a visit home. Home, Rune. Heaven.” I began feeling the warmth that that vision brought at my toes. It began to travel over my whole body. “My heaven will be you and me in the blossom grove. Like always. Forever seventeen.”
I took a strand of Rune’s hair between my fingers, studying the golden color. “Do you ever dream a dream so vividly, that when you wake you believe it was real? It feels like it is real?”
“Ja,” Rune said quietly.
“That’s because it was, Rune, in a way. So at night, when you close your eyes, I’ll be there, meeting you in our grove.”
Inching closer, I added, “And then when it’s time for you to come home too, it’ll be me who greets you. And there’ll be no worry or fear or pain. Just love.” I sighed happily. “Imagine that, Rune. A place where there’s no pain or hurt.” I closed my eyes and smiled. “When I think about it that way, I’m not so scared anymore.”
Rune’s lips brushed over mine. “It sounds perfect,” he said, his accent thick, voice graveled. “I want you to have that, Poppymin.”
I fluttered my eyes open and saw the truth and acceptance on Rune’s handsome face.
“It will be like that, Rune,” I said with unwavering certainty. “We won’t end. We never will.”
Rune rolled me until I lay on his chest. I closed my eyes, lulled by the hypnotic rhythm of Rune’s deep breathing. As I was about to drift away to sleep, Rune asked, “Poppymin?”
“Yes?”
“What do you want out of the time left?”
I thought about his question, but only a few things sprang to mind. “I want to see the cherry blossoms bloom one final time.” I smiled against Rune’s chest. “I want to dance at prom with you,”—I tilted my head up and caught him smiling down at me—“with you in a tux and your hair combed back off your face.” Rune shook his head in amusement at that.<
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Sighing at the peaceful happiness we had now found, I said, “I want to see a final perfect sunrise.” Sitting up higher, I met Rune’s eyes and finished, “But more than anything, I want to return home with your kiss on my lips. I want to pass on to the next life still feeling your warm lips on mine.”
Settling back down onto Rune’s chest, I closed my eyes and whispered, “That’s what I pray for most. To last long enough to achieve these things.”
“They’re perfect, baby,” Rune whispered, stroking my hair.
And that’s how I fell asleep, under Rune’s protection.
Dreaming that I’d see all my wishes fulfilled.
Happy.
Rune
I drew lazy circles on my paper as the teacher droned on about chemical compounds. My mind was occupied with Poppy. It always was, but today was different. We had been back from New York for four days now, and with each passing day she had grown quieter.
I constantly asked what was wrong. She would always tell me it was nothing. But I knew there was something. This morning, it was worse.
Her hand felt too weak in mine as we walked to school. Her skin was too hot to the touch. I had asked if she was feeling sick, but she just shook her head and smiled.
She thought that smile could stop me in my tracks.
It normally could, but not today.
Something felt off. My heart dropped every time I thought back to lunch, when we had been sitting with our friends and she lay in my arms. She never spoke, instead just traced her fingertip over my hand.
The afternoon had dragged, and every minute was filled with worry that she wasn’t okay. That the time she had left was coming to a close. Sitting up quickly, I tried to stave off the panic that image brought. But it was no use.
When the final bell sounded, signaling the end of the school day, I jumped from my seat and rushed to the hallway, darting to Poppy’s locker. When I arrived, Jorie was standing there.
“Where is she?” I asked curtly.
Jorie took a surprised step back and pointed to the back door. As I quickly made my way to the exit, Jorie shouted, “She didn’t look too good in class, Rune. I’m real worried.”
Shivers ran down my spine as I burst into the warm air. My eyes scanned the courtyard until I found Poppy standing at a tree in the park opposite. I pushed past my fellow students and ran over to her.
She didn’t notice me as she stared straight ahead, seemingly caught in a trance. There was a light sheen of sweat covering her face, and the skin on her arms and legs seemed pale.
I stood directly in her path. Poppy’s dull eyes were sluggish as they blinked and focused slowly on mine. She forced a smile. “Rune,” she whispered, weakly.
I pressed my hand against her forehead, my eyebrows pulled together in concern. “Poppy? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said unconvincingly, “I’m just tired.”
My heart slammed against my ribs as I took in her lie. Knowing I had to get her back to her parents, I gathered her under my arm. As the nape of her neck almost scalded my arm, I bit back a curse.
“Let’s go home, baby,” I said softly. Poppy wrapped her arms around my waist. Her hold was weak, but I could tell she was using my body to hold herself straight. I knew she would protest if I tried to carry her.
I closed my eyes for a second as we stepped onto the pathway of the park. I tried to quell the fear taking hold of me inside. The fear of her being sick. Of this being…
Poppy was silent, but for her breathing, which grew deeper and wheezier the further we walked. As we entered the blossom grove, Poppy’s steps faltered. I looked down, only to feel her body lose all its strength.
“Poppy!” I called out and caught her just before she hit the ground. Looking down at her in my arms, I stroked back the damp hair from her face. “Poppy? Poppy, baby, what’s wrong?”
Poppy’s eyes began to roll, losing focus, but I felt her hand take hold of mine and grip it as hard as she could manage. It was a barely a squeeze.
“Rune,” she tried to say, but her breathing became too fast; she struggled to retain enough air to push out her voice.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my cell and hit 911. As soon as the operator answered, I reeled off Poppy’s address and informed them of her illness.
Scooping Poppy into my arms, I was about to set into a run when Poppy’s weak palm landed on my face. I glanced down, only to see a tear roll down her cheek. “I’m … I’m … not ready…” she managed to tell me, before her head flopped back and she fought for consciousness.
Despite the tear ripping through my heart at Poppy’s broken spirit and failing body, I leapt into a sprint. Pushing myself harder and faster than ever before.
As I passed by my house, I saw my mamma and Alton in the driveway.
“Rune?” my mamma called, then whispered, “No!” when she saw Poppy hanging limply in my arms.
The sound of the ambulance’s siren blared in the distance. Wasting no time, I kicked through the front door of Poppy’s house.
I ran into the living room; no one was there. “Help!” I screamed as loudly as I could. Suddenly, I heard footsteps running in my direction.
“Poppy!” Poppy’s mama came barreling around the corner as I lowered Poppy to the couch. “Oh my God! Poppy!” Mrs. Litchfield crouched down beside me, pushing her hand over Poppy’s head.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. She just collapsed in my arms. I’ve called for an ambulance.”
Just as those words left my mouth, I heard the sound of the ambulance turning into the street. Poppy’s mama ran out of the house. I watched her go, ice replacing the blood in my veins. I ran my hands through my hair, not knowing what to do. A cold hand landed on my wrist.
I snapped my eyes back to Poppy, and saw her fighting for breath. My face fell at the sight. Dropping down closer, I kissed her hand and whispered, “You’ll be okay, Poppymin. I promise.”
Poppy gasped for breath, but managing to place her palm on my face, she said, almost inaudibly, “Not … going home … yet…”
I nodded my head and kissed her hand, gripping it tightly with my own.
Suddenly, the sound of the EMTs entering the house came from behind me and I stood up to let them past. But as I did, Poppy’s hand tightened on my own. Tears leaked from her eyes. “I’m right here, baby,” I whispered. “I won’t leave you.”
Poppy’s eyes showed me her thanks. The sound of crying came from behind me. As I turned, I saw Ida and Savannah standing to the side, watching, crying in each other’s arms. Mrs. Litchfield moved to the other side of the couch and kissed Poppy’s head. “You’ll be okay, baby,” she whispered, but as she looked up at me, I could see she didn’t believe her own words.
She thought the time had arrived too.
The EMTs put an oxygen mask over Poppy’s face and gathered her onto a gurney. Poppy’s hand still held mine; she refused to let go. As the EMTs moved her out of the house, she never loosened her grip on my hand, her eyes never leaving mine as she fought to keep them open.
Mrs. Litchfield ran behind, but when she saw Poppy’s hand clutching mine so tightly, she said, “You go with Poppy, Rune. I’ll follow straight behind with the girls.”
I could see the conflict on her face. She wanted to be with her daughter.
“I’ll bring them, Ivy, you go with Poppy and Rune,” I heard my mamma say from behind me. I climbed into the back of the ambulance; Mrs. Litchfield joined me.
Even when Poppy’s eyes closed en route to the hospital, she didn’t release my hand. And, as she collapsed into tears beside me, I gave my other hand to Mrs. Litchfield.
* * *
I stayed by Poppy’s side as she was wheeled into an oncology room. My heart beat as quickly as the doctors and nurses moved—a blur, a mass of activity.
I fought back the lump blocking my throat. I held the numbness inside me at bay. Poppy was being poked
and prodded—blood taken, temperature taken, too many things to count. And my baby fought. As her chest became erratic with her inability to breathe properly, she stayed calm. As unconsciousness tried to pull her down, she forced her eyes to remain open … she forced her eyes to stay fixed on mine, mouthing my name whenever she almost slipped under.
I stayed strong for Poppy. I wouldn’t let her see me fall.
She needed me to be strong.
Mrs. Litchfield was beside me, holding my hand. Mr. Litchfield came running in, briefcase in hand, his tie in disarray.
“Ivy,” he said in a hurried voice, “what happened?”
Mrs. Litchfield chased her tears away from her cheeks and took her husband’s hand. “She collapsed on Rune, on the way home from school. The doctors believe it’s an infection. Her immune system is so low she can’t fight it.”
Mr. Litchfield looked to me, as Mrs. Litchfield added, “Rune carried Poppy in his arms all the way home. He ran and called for an ambulance. He saved her, James. Rune saved our girl.”
I swallowed hard as I heard Mrs. Litchfield’s words. Mr. Litchfield nodded, I assumed in thanks, then ran toward his daughter. I saw him squeeze her hand, but the doctors quickly ushered him out of the way.
It was five minutes before a doctor spoke to us. He stood still, his face blank. “Mr. and Mrs. Litchfield, Poppy’s body is trying to fight off an infection. As you know, her immune system is severely compromised.”
“Is this it?” Mrs. Litchfield prompted, her throat tight with grief.
The doctor’s words seeped into my brain. I turned my head away from him as I sensed a pair of eyes watching me.
The doctors had cleared a space, and through that space, I saw Poppy’s pretty face covered in a mask, IVs in her arms. But her green eyes, those green eyes I adored, were on me. Her hand hung out to the side.
“We’ll do all that we can. We’ll give her a moment before we put her under.”
I heard the doctor say they were putting her into a medically induced coma to help her try to fight the infection. And that we had to see her before they did. But my feet were already moving. Her hand was held out for me.
