“Hey, everyone—this is Kathy. Kathy—this is my family.”
I was forced to smile and pretend I was enjoying this moment of being caught in Jason’s hospital room when I should be at school.
“This is my mom, and that’s my dad.” Jason pointed from one to the other before his father interjected, “Just in case you had us confused.” Everyone had a nice laugh at Jason’s expense over that. “And that’s my brother Michael and my sis-in-law, Tracy. And that’s Lance and Melinda. Michael and Lance are twins. And over there—that’s Adam. He just got home from a mission.”
My mind whirled from all the faces and names and introductions. I just prayed there wasn’t going to be a quiz later, or that I would be expected to remember who anyone but Jason was once I was safely out of his hospital room.
“What about me?” a small, little girl’s voice said. I hadn’t even noticed a child had come with all the adults. She’d kept herself well hidden, but even before she finally surfaced from behind the forest of legs around her, I knew by the way Jason looked at her that this little girl with dark, wavy hair like Jason’s had to be his eight-year-old sister, Emily.
“I was just saving the best for last.” Jason smiled and patted the bed with his hand. “Come over here, sis.” Emily quickly ran over and climbed on his bed while everyone yelled at her to watch for Jason’s leg, which she carefully maneuvered herself around before landing on his chest to snuggle against his side. “Kathy—this is Emily. The one and only. You should see her on her bike riding around the neighborhood. She’s a true speed racer, aren’t you, kid?”
I said hello to Emily. She looked me over curiously before quickly turning her attention back to her brother. “Does your leg hurt really bad, Jason?”
I watched almost enviously while Jason kissed her cheek. “Well, Em, it doesn’t exactly feel good, but it’ll get better.”
“I imagine you must be flying pretty high on painkillers right now, huh, bro?”
Jason gave a weak laugh. “Yeah, they’ve given me something pretty strong, although I can feel a lot of fire in my knee. Mostly the drugs I’ve been given just make me really sleepy.”
And loopy, I almost chimed in.
“We wanted to come see you off before your surgery. And to give you a blessing, if you’d like that.”
Jason nodded at his father. “Yes, I’d like that. Very much.”
Blessing? I had no idea what Jason’s father was talking about.
“You’re going to need to climb down, Emily, dear.” Jason’s mom reached for Emily, who reluctantly let her mother pull her away from Jason before scooting herself down to sit at the foot of the bed, being careful to avoid his right leg.
“Which one of your brothers do you want to have help me?”
“Since Adam’s been doing this the most lately—Adam, would you mind?”
“Of course not.”
While Adam stepped up to one side of Jason’s bed and his dad positioned himself on the other, I was torn between guiltily wanting to observe this religious ritual, while the other half of me just wanted to get out. I made a stab at escaping, but I was trapped in the corner of Jason’s room at the foot of his bed. I would either have to shove my way through the wall of family blocking my path, or climb over his bed and over Emily, since she’d planted herself cross-legged smack in the middle of the bottom of his bed. And there was the question of my book bag, which one of Jason’s brothers was nearly standing on top of. Stuck, stuck, stuck! ran through my now-panicked mind. Surely they had to know I wasn’t a member of their religion! Was it wrong—blasphemous—for me to be here listening in on this—blessing? And what if they all started doing something—anything—I didn’t know a person was supposed to do and I ruined the whole moment? Since I was trapped beyond any form of escape, I tried to scrunch as deeply into the wall as I could, hoping no one would notice me or the absolute pain I was in, and while everyone else silently bowed their heads and folded their arms, I watched, spellbound, mechanically folding my own arms while Jason’s father and his brother placed their hands on Jason’s head and said a prayer—one that was just for Jason, to help heal his leg.
If someone had asked me later what words were spoken during that prayer, I couldn’t have told them because of what washed over me, engulfing me completely. I honestly had never felt anything remotely like it before. Ever. The quiet, calm, peaceful power of it took me completely by surprise. I had no idea what I was feeling, but tears formed in my eyes and my heart pounded. The only feeling I could possibly relate it to was stepping from a cold room into bright sunlight, only instead of feeling warm on the outside, the warm, glowing sensation I felt was inside me. It was overwhelming. And now a few tears were creeping down my cheeks, and when Jason’s father said amen, I watched while Jason thanked his father and brother and hugged them both, followed by everyone else in the room moving forward to do the same.
I meant to hurry and grab my book bag and excuse myself and leave, but I couldn’t move my feet. The feeling was still there—it was so incredibly strong and so new to me. And then, no one was leaning over Jason anymore to hug him, and he was looking at me. I don’t know what kind of an expression was on my face, but he was looking at me with an almost tender gaze that made me want to start bawling.
“Kathy—” he started, but before he or I could say or do anything, the brother standing practically in my book bag finally took a step forward. I quickly darted behind him, snatched up my bag, and weaved through the sea of Wests until I could bolt out the door to run down the hall as fast as I dared. And even after I arrived back at school, I couldn’t stop trembling all over from everything I’d just seen and heard. And felt.
~
January 13
Dear Kitty,
The thirteenth. And a Friday. Dad had to work late tonight—like usual. We were all sitting around the table eating dinner while Mom opened bills. Bills are piling up, and since the cost of my treatments are a mile high and Dad’s insurance only covers so much, don’t think I don’t feel guilty about all of the money being spent on me.
Watching Mom’s face as she looked over the bills, dinner wasn’t tasting so good to me anymore. I knew I had to get out for a while, so I asked if it was okay if I went over to Kelly’s, but Mom said no because I looked tired. I got mad, but all she said was that I needed to start taking better care of myself and that I’ve been pushing myself too hard lately, going back to school and everything. So I yelled again and said I was doing fine, that I knew when I was too tired, and I wasn’t, so I was going over to Kelly’s. Mom got upset and said, “Brett, I said no! If you leave this house, I’ll—I’ll—” Before I knew what I was doing, I said, “You’ll do what? I think I’ve got about the worst punishment I could ever ask for.” That shook her up, but she held strong and told me not to dare speak to her in that tone of voice and to settle down and eat my dinner. I would’ve said more, but Mom got up and stormed into the kitchen, so after another minute of that wonderful silence, I got up and followed her. When she turned around to face me, she was crying. All she could say was “Why you?” before her voice broke. Then she said, “My Brett,” and caught me in a fierce hug and really started to cry.
I tried to make Mom understand that just because I’m sick, it doesn’t mean I’m not me anymore. I don’t want to be treated like a baby, so I told her that I want to fight this thing. I don’t want to lie around like I’m already beaten. Then I pinched her good under the ribs. That made her laugh, so I held onto that and told her I’m not out of here yet, so she better not make any plans to paint my room pink.
February 3
Dear Kitty,
Dr. Grenville said at my last appointment that I’m looking better. As much as I hate my chemo treatments, I guess they’re doing something good for me. Instead of fighting against the treatments or just accepting them comatose style, I’m trying to think positively and work with the medicine. I think it’s making a difference.
Kelly came over after scho
ol and asked me how my praying was coming along, so I told him—with my eyes closed, because I was tired—that I was still praying. Then he asked me if I’d been reading that Mormon Bible, and I was trying to figure out a nice way to tell him I hadn’t when Mom came in and asked Kelly if she could talk to him alone in the kitchen. Once Kelly came back, he looked all uncomfortable and said he needed to get home and left. I called him later on the phone and made him tell me what Mom talked to him about. He tried to play it down, but I got him to admit that Mom told him to stop tiring me out with all of his religious talk. That was all he would say, but I’m sure Mom got into it more than that. I guess I wasn’t giving her and Dad enough credit. They’d overheard us lots of times before, and after talking it over, they decided they’re not crazy about Kelly trying to convert me. Poor Kelly—I could tell he felt really bad. I had a yelling session with Mom and Dad after I got off the phone about listening in on my private conversations, but they kept saying all of his religion talk is confusing and upsetting me and that I need to focus on getting well and not on the “weird” stuff Kelly’s telling me. Mom kept harping on the fact that I’ve got enough to deal with without having Kelly trying to get me to join his religion. Which is funny, because Kelly hasn’t asked me about joining. He’s just told me stuff he believes in, and then he usually asks me what I think about it or what I believe. It’s all been pretty interesting and harmless, so I think they’re getting crazy over nothing. I just like talking with Kelly about more than just football. Besides—he’s my friend, and he was my friend long before we ever started talking about religious stuff, so I know he’s not just coming over to turn me into a Mormon. I had no idea it was driving Mom and Dad crazy—especially Mom. She says I get too worked up listening to Kelly talk Mormonism with me and that it worries her. If you ask me, she’s the one who gets all worked up about Kelly and his talk—not me. But nothing I say can convince her of that.
And as if all that wasn’t enough, Dad announced at dinner that Mom’s going back to work. I felt sick—sicker than usual, since it’s all because of me. Sam, thinking of herself—as usual—said, “Oh, great. So now I’m going to have to give up every semblance of a social life to get home and take care of Kitty.” That made me mad, so I yelled that she wouldn’t, because I’ll be around to take care of you. I picked you up and left the table, slamming our bedroom door behind me, which I shouldn’t have done, because the noise only scared you and made you cry.
Mom will go back to work. When I’m at home, I’ll watch out for you, and when I’m at school, Mom will take you to the sitter’s house until I get home. I know you’re not going to be thrilled about that, and I’m sorry—I’m sorry for messing up your life, too . . .
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I half-expected to get cornered by my parents for cutting class. I was sure that some annoying executive assistant at Central would’ve called Mom or Dad or both, but neither appeared to be wise to my hospital adventure. Or, it was possible they had been contacted but didn’t want to bring it up in front of Alex and Julie and Sam and Stephen while they were over for dinner. Either way, it really didn’t matter. That issue paled to almost nil in comparison to what I’d experienced. I couldn’t get the scene out of my mind, watching Jason get blessed by his father and brother. And the feeling I’d had during Jason’s blessing—it’d been too powerful and real.
“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight, Kathy. Is everything okay?” Mom said worriedly.
Had I been overly quiet? “I’m fine, Mom. Everything’s fine.”
“She’s been hiding in her room since she came home from school. She’s only just emerged since you all arrived,” Dad said, looking at Alex and Sam.
“I’ve got homework and lots of reading to do,” I said, stabbing quickly at my salad.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Mom continued to dissect me with her eyes.
“Really, Mom.” I felt bad about the look Mom was giving me—the one that said she didn’t believe me, but I knew I couldn’t offer more.
“So—Halloween’s coming up. Any big plans, Kathy?”
I glanced at Alex and shrugged.
“She’s probably been too busy worrying and fussing over Jason after the mangling he went through on Friday.” Sam grinned at my surprised, open-mouthed face.
“What—How do you know about Jason’s knee surgery?”
Samantha laughed. “Jason’s pounding and his ambulance ride were in the high school sports news on TV last Friday, but they didn’t say that he had to have knee surgery. The reporters should’ve come to you for full details. You probably know more than his parents do.”
Before I could respond to that, Mom looked at me questioningly. “How did you know he had to have knee surgery, Kathy?”
“A girl in my English class said so today.” Which was completely true.
“Yeah, right,” Sam grinned.
I stared hard at Sam. “It’s true!”
Alex rolled his eyes at Julie and Stephen in his “here we go again” way. And I knew Mom and Dad were tensing up, getting ready to tell me to stop fighting with Sam. None of them needed to worry, though. Something inside of me wanted to hold onto what I’d seen and felt, and somehow I knew fighting with Sam would make it disappear. So instead, I turned and googled at Curtis sitting across the table from me on Stephen’s lap until I made him laugh before turning to Sam’s surprised face with a real smile of my own. “Boy, he’s getting bigger and bigger. And cuter and cuter! What are you going to dress him as for Halloween?”
Now it was Sam’s turn to look slack-jawed. “I—I haven’t decided yet. I don’t really know—” Try as she might to recover, Sam looked surprised that I didn’t have my dukes up for her.
“I think he’d make a really cute little ghost. That’d be a simple costume to put together.”
Sam allowed herself to give me a little smile. “Yeah—that could be really cute. And I’d only need a pillowcase . . .” Sam babbled on about the details of the costume while I smiled and nodded and pretended to be oblivious to everyone else’s now slack-jawed faces.
~
February 14
Dear Kitty,
Happy First Valentine’s Day! Sam had a date, Alex asked some girl to the Valentine’s Dance, and Mom and Dad needed a night out together, so I opted to be your valentine here at home. I put our Beatles tunes on the stereo, and we tired ourselves out tonight dancing before Kelly showed up. He didn’t have the nerve to ask anyone to the dance. I thought Kelly would try talking religion with me, but he didn’t. Something about respecting Mom and Dad’s wishes to leave it alone—for now. You know what that means—Mom and Dad may have told him to stop talking religion with me, but he’s not going to give up. I know I can count on him to find a way to work it back into our chats again. He just needs to figure out a way to suck back up to Mom and Dad again first. Anyway—we had a great time tonight, Kitty. Thanks for making my Valentine’s Day . . .
February 18
Dear Kitty,
I had a dream the other night that really shook me up. In the dream, I was my old self again with the football team, playing for the state championship. I was in my usual quarterback position and playing better than I ever had before. No one could touch me or keep up with me. Then we were down to the final play of the game. No one was open for me to throw to, so I ran with the ball gripped tight in my hands. I dodged everyone with a precision that was magical. Guys from the other team flew at me, jumping for me right and left, but they always fell behind me. I ran and ran, and then—there was no one around me anymore, and I couldn’t hear anything. No grunts or intense swearing. No cheers from the crowds. And instead of that forked goal post ahead, there was nothing—only an empty field.
I slowed down to a walk so I could look around before I just stood still. It was quiet, and there wasn’t a soul in sight. I wasn’t even on the football field anymore. I was in the middle of a huge meadow type place, and there were mountains all around me. I tried to run again, but I
couldn’t. It was like trying to run in water. I heard crying, and way ahead of me, I could see a little girl, just bawling her eyes out. My heart stopped, because I knew it was you. I tried to yell to you, but not even a whisper would come out of my throat. I tried to jump up and down and wave at you, but my knees hurt too much to get off the ground. When I looked at you again, you weren’t a little girl anymore. Now you looked like you were my age, and you looked so lost and confused that I lunged for you—but I still couldn’t run. I stumbled towards you, trying to yell some more, but I fell down hard. You were crying and calling for help, but I couldn’t get to you. I tried to crawl, but it took forever to move an inch. I got as close as I could to you, but you acted as if you didn’t know I was there. Wind whipped all around us, and I screamed through it for you to take my hand, but you couldn’t hear anything I said. And then Dr. Grenville was behind me, saying, “I’m sorry, son. You have leukemia.” I couldn’t take it anymore, so I forced myself to wake up. That was definitely the weirdest dream I’ve ever had in my whole entire life. It seemed so real that it’s been on my mind all day.
I’m still praying. No one else knows but you and Kelly . . .
March 1
Dear Kitty,
I just heard the most beautiful word in the whole world: REMISSION!
“You’ve worked hard and you deserve it. You are most definitely in remission.” Those were Dr. Grenville’s exact words. I don’t think anyone’s ever said anything nicer to me. I was so excited I almost kissed him.
In case you don’t know what that magical word remission means, it means that my chemo treatments have sent the bad cells in my body on the run. Dr. Grenville stressed to me over and over again that I’m not cured—and I know that—but this is the first, positive step towards it. If a person can stay in remission for about five years, any doctor will say that person is basically cured. Since I’ve finally reached this major goal of mine, my next long-range goal is to hang on and hold out for those five years and beat this sickness. I know I can do it—I’ve got to!
The Secret Journal of Brett Colton Page 13
