by CS Yelle
Later, lying on my stomach as they drew spinal cord fluid from me, I cried uncontrollably. Unable to draw on the strength of my happy dreams, the nightmares took control and flooded me with sorrow. The surgical team thought I cried from the pain and gave me morphine, but it only made me loopy and more fearful that the dreams were actually real. I didn’t remember getting back to my room, too drugged up on the morphine, but woke later that evening. I had to stop losing days like this; I needed to get out of here and on with my life, whatever that entailed.
As if reading my mind, Doctor Morgan walked in, pulling up a chair between the couch my parents sat on and my bed so we all could see him. He held a thick manila folder and flipped it open as he crossed his legs.
“Good evening.” He looked from my parents to me.
“Isn’t it a little late for you, Doc?” I asked, never recalling him being in to see me so late.
“I thought we could speak tonight and get you on the road early tomorrow.”
I smiled, staring excitedly at my parents who mirrored my happiness.
Nodding to Doctor Morgan, I waited for him to continue.
“We’re at a loss. The doctors going over the test results, as well as the techs administering the tests, have never witnessed anything like this before.”
“What is it?” Mom asked, leaning closer.
“Britt, you are the healthiest we’ve ever seen you. Your lungs are now the lungs of a healthy eighteen year old. Your liver, shutting down before the near drowning, is healthy. Your brain tumor is gone. Not only is the cancer gone, but every evasive procedure we did on you is already healed completely with no signs of it ever being done. It usually takes weeks to heal from the insertion points for the bone marrow and the spinal tests, but it’s like you healed as soon as the needles were withdrawn. There was no bleeding, no seeping; nothing. The techs reported they couldn’t even see where they had pulled the needles from seconds after the fact.”
We sat in silence, staring dumbfounded as the doctor expressed his surprise and shock.
“The most confusing thing is there are no signs of any kind of trauma to your body at all. Even past surgeries, injuries, everything that was well documented; you no longer show any signs of damage. As a matter of fact, your appendix is back and healthier than ever.” He threw up his hand in exasperation and the documents flew into the air, cascading to the floor.
“What do I do now?” I asked.
“You live. Go live your life and take it where it leads you. I don’t get to say that often, but I want you to experience everything this life has to offer, Britt. Somehow, for some reason, you have been given a new lease on life, and you need to grasp it with both hands and hold on tight.” He stood, leaned down to give me a hug. He shook Dad’s hand and gave Mom a hug. “Have a good life,” he said with smile and walked out the door, leaving the file of my past life lying on the floor.
Chapter 3 We pulled into our garage late one evening two weeks after leaving for the BWCA, exhausted but optimistic by the prospect of a future, something I had long given up on.
“I’m so tired,” I sighed. “Get to bed,” Mom told me as we hauled ourselves from the vehicle.
Pulling my backpack from the rear seat I headed upstairs. Swinging the door open, I flicked on the light. The room was the way I left it, everything in its place, except for some flowers and balloons on my desk by the window.
I dropped my backpack to the floor, walked over, and opened the card grinning.
Welcome home. We’re happy for you. Elisa, Cassie, and Trish. My ‘three amigos’ never let me down. I set the card on the desk, flopped onto the bed still in my clothes, and fell asleep in seconds.
The dream came with horrifying vividness. This time I chased someone running, trying to get away from me. Of that I had no doubt. He came to a dead-end, brick walls surrounding him and only one way out. Looking back into my eyes, he reeled in fear. Someone stepped between us, someone light and airy, almost not there at all. He put a hand up to stop me. I laughed, but it wasn’t my laugh. A stranger’s hand reached out from my body, grasping the airy person by the neck. He screamed in pain as the person against the wall behind him cried out in agony. Both fell silent, the airy body hanging limp in the outstretched hand. It flowed into the hand, losing its shape; its identity. I looked back at the person leaning motionless against the brick wall, his eyes open wide, terror still stretching across his face.
I woke with a scream, Mom holding me, pulling me against her chest.
“Britt, Britt, it’s alright, it’s going to be alright,” she soothed, caressing my head, rocking me back and forth.
My nose crinkled as the tell-tale smell of lilac intruded on my senses again.
At eighteen, it should have felt uncomfortable; embarrassing, but the terror racing through me kept me grasping her, pulling her closer, needing her comfort and protection. It took over an hour for the shaking to stop. I sat wrapped in my comforter, legs crossed under me, determined to get control back before turning off the light. Mom sat with me until I nodded at her questioning look and she stepped out, closing the door behind her with one last worried glance, the lights still on.
The dream felt so real. I didn’t understand at first, but comprehension eventually percolated to the surface. Maybe it was real. I pulled the covers closer as the shivering started again; the vision of the man in the alley, his eyes focused on mine, coming back to me. The horror in those eyes were burned into my memory, etched there for all time. And that smell of lilac. Ever since it came to me at the waterfall it wafted to me after every bad dream. Why?
The sun shone through the window across my face, waking me as I leaned against my headboard, still sitting up. I straightened my legs, cringing as the tingles felt like needles across my shins and through my feet. A dream, that’s all, I kept telling myself trying to rationalize, to convince myself. But this dream freaked me out. The chill running up and down my spine coupled with the tingling in my legs made my skin burn as if on fire.
The clock on the nightstand showed ten and I slid out of bed staggering over to the window to look out at the large oak tree to one side of the house and the quiet side street. I grasped at their normalcy needing them to anchor me, ground me from the craziness of the dream; much like I did many times after therapy pushed me down threatening to take control. The tree and street brought me back to my reality like beacons showing me the way home, giving me comfort.
I closed my eyes and pulled the most exciting thought I could to the front of my mind. School started in a week. I felt amazed to have the opportunity to be there for my senior year. After so many years of sporadic attendance, along with private tutors when the chemo and other treatments became too overwhelming, the idea of attending school brought me joy. Though the thought of spending my days in school with my friends, doing the kinds of things every senior in high school did, felt bittersweet if it meant my nights were going to be filled with terror.
I hobbled over to the long mirror on the back of my bedroom door as feeling eased back to my sleeping legs. I stared at myself with continued disbelief. My hair was growing like crazy. In the past two weeks it went from nothing to shoulder length. And where it used to be dark brown, hearly black, it was now golden brown.
My breath caught in my chest as my happy dream came to mind. My hair matched the color of the angels’. I ran a hand through the silky locks and smiled. My skin, still slightly pale in the sunlight streaming through the window, was the only remnant of the sickness that racked my body for almost four years. The rays shone on my handful of the now golden, thick hair. And my eyes stared back at me, bright blue. That still freaked me out, almost as much as it did Mom. Well, not that much. She never mentioned it, but I often caught her glancing at me, just before she turned away with a shudder.
Touching my cheek, it felt smooth and soft. If this was a dream, I never wanted to wake up. A tap sounded on the door and I walked over to my bed and sat down. “Come in.”
The do
or burst open and the “three amigos” came rushing in, tackling me on my bed.
My mother peered over their shoulders, worry spread across her face. “Girls, you need to be careful.”
“That’s okay, Mom,” I laughed as we rolled on the bed.
“The weak link has returned,” Cassie cried, barreling over the top of me.
“Where’ve you been, girl?” Elisa laughed.
“We know where she’s been, but now we need to know: where’s she going?” Trish smiled, standing up and pulling me into a sitting position as the other girls sat up and crossed their legs.
“OMG,” Cassie shouted. “What is happening with your hair?”
“It’s gorgeous,” Trish said, running a hand through it.
“Didn’t you have black hair?” Elisa asked.
“Yeah, sort of,” I said. “It’s been so long since I’ve had hair it’s hard to remember.”
“I love it,” they said in unison.
We looked at each other and burst into laughter, Elisa and Cassie falling back onto the bed and Trish dropping to a knee on the floor in hysteria. When we finally wiped the tears of laughter from our eyes, the girls looked at each other and then turned their gaze on me.
“What?” I asked, a little concerned with the way they smiled at me.
“Shopping,” Trish cried out.
“You need to go shopping,” Elisa agreed.
“Most definitely.” Cassie grinned.
I looked to Mom as she stood in the doorway.
“You do need some clothes and it will be good for you to get out with your friends.” She smiled.
“Yeah,” the girls cheered.
“Jump in the shower and we’ll do an inventory on your closet to see what you need,” Trish said, walking over and sliding my closet door open.
“Fine, but you need to be gentle,” I said, extracting myself from Cassie and Elisa to join Trish by my closet. “It’s been a long time since I’ve power shopped.”
“Like riding a bike,” Cassie said.
“Once you’ve done it, you never forget,” Elisa added.
“And by look of this closet,” Trish said with a hand on her chin, “you need to get rid of the training wheels… and training bra.” She grinned and reached into the closet, took an old bra on one finger and twirled it around.
“Hey,” I shouted, trying to grab the bra as she deftly kept it away.
“Go shower, we have work to do.” Trish smiled, flinging the bra back into the closet.
I rushed to the shower and got ready. Mom stuck her head in the bathroom as I stood, wrapped in my towel brushing my hair, trying to decide what to do with it.
“I don’t know how I want my hair,” I sighed.
“I would say it looks great the way it is,” Mom pointed out.
Looking back in the mirror I shrugged. Guess she was right.
“I wanted to check and see if you needed some help with makeup since you never wore any before, but I can see you don’t need any.” Her eyes met mine in the mirror’s reflection, holding my gaze for a moment and then she turned away.
Nodding to my reflection, a stranger’s blue eyes stared back. The eyes; she had the hardest time looking at my eyes. Out of all of things that changed, my eyes bothered her the most.
“Britt, let’s go,” the girls cried from my room.
Spinning, I gave her a peck on the cheek, and then raced to the bedroom where Trish had salvaged some clothes for me to wear on a ‘temporary’ basis.
After slipping into a tank top, light green button up shirt, and some faded blue jeans we were out the door. We jumped into Trish’s Jeep Wrangler with the top down and raced into town. There weren’t a lot of choices in Grand Rapids but we headed for the one mall. ‘The small’ the girls called it. It had a few clothing stores along with a book store, drug store, and beauty boutique.
When the amigos power shopped, they really power shopped. We nearly melted Mom’s credit card at the rate we spent. I tried slowing them down, suggesting we get something to eat before they could do more damage, but it did little good as they pushed me into another store with the united cry, “later”.
I have to admit, the excitement of buying clothes in the woman’s section instead of the children’s section appealed to me. Walking out of the changing room where the girls waited to give their approval, I watched their mouths drop open.
“What?” I asked.
“Britt, you’re gorgeous,” Elisa gasped.
“Oh, come on.”
“No, seriously; Elisa’s right,” Cassie agreed.
“Britt, you are one hot woman,” Trish added as she walked up to me, took me by my shoulders, and turned me to the mirror.
The image in the mirror made me gasp. I stared in shock. The person in the mirror belied the little girl memory of me. A woman stared back at me; the new clothing accentuating the shapely figure I now possessed.
Trish stood smiling next to me. I always thought her the most attractive of the bunch, but her long dark hair, deep brown eyes paled next to my vibrant blue eyes, shimmering hair, and glowing skin.
Cassie came to stand on my other side, grinning as she wrapped an arm around me and gave me a supportive squeeze. Her bleached blonde hair, tiny waist, and blue eyes were beautiful. I felt arrogant realizing myself prettier.
Elisa’s reflection in the mirror as she sat behind us revealed her smiling face. Tears welled up in her green eyes and she turned her red head away, embarrassed, hoping we wouldn’t notice.
These were the girls the guys chased. It never happened to me. I never felt like a woman what with the cancer stuff going on. Until now. Elisa joined us as the girls swarmed me in front of the mirror, giving me a group-hug as I stared at our reflection, BFFs.
We swung by Sammy’s Pizza, our favorite pizzeria, and I called Mom to let her know. We sat in a booth, the backs so high you couldn’t see the people on either side. Ordering a pizza, we caught up on all the gossip I’d missed the last two weeks.
Reluctantly I told them about our canoe trip. Telling them I had a spell and we went to the Mayo Clinic to check it out, I decided not to share the details about trying to kill myself. Actually, Mom never asked if I did it on purpose, though after my conversation with Dad at the Mayo, I knew he understood. He went along with Mom’s opinion that the current swept me away and I was too weak to cry for help. Besides, I did change my mind, I rationalized.
Elisa told me about Tommy Newman, the starting quarterback on the football team, and her latest. “The Thunderhawks are going to be awesome this year.” She beamed.
“You’re biased,” argued Trish.
“Yeah, so?” Elisa grinned as we erupted into laughter.
“Just because you’re dating Jeb Strand who doesn’t have an athletic bone in his body,” Cassie started.
“He has other talents,” Trish defended.
“Like what?” I asked.
“Jeb’s a musician,” Trish explained. “Lead singer and guitar player for the band, Apocalypse Now. They’re playing at the first school dance.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Trish asked.
“I never pegged you to be into the moody artistic type.” I grinned.
“If you think Jeb doesn’t fit me, you should see Carl,” Trish laughed.
“Carl?”
“You leave Carl alone,” Cassie moaned.
“Carl; chess club, valedictorian, yawn,” Elisa said with a laugh.
“He’s nice,” Cassie argued.
“Carl Vladerman?” I looked at Cassie, shocked.
“He’s really changed,” Cassie said.
“Yeah, no more out-of-style clothes and thick glasses,” Elisa said.
“Contacts and my fashion sense have helped a lot.” Cassie nodded.
Things changed fast in Grand Rapids. Elisa always had a boyfriend, dating one popular guy after another, but Cassie and Trish didn’t like to risk getting hurt.
“When did all this happen?�
�� I asked.
“We didn’t think it was right to tell you about our lives while you went through all that cancer stuff,” Trish said.
“Now we have to get someone for you.” Elisa smiled.
“Uh, not interested.” I raised my hand shaking my head.
“Oh, come on,” Trish protested. “There has to be someone in town you could fall for.”
“Not that I know of.” I shrugged.
“Did you hear about the new family who moved into the old Miller house?” Cassie said.
“No, who are they?” I asked. The Miller house was the oldest, most elegant house in town. The last owner, the president of the local paper mill, sold out to some company from Finland and left town.
“Their name is Parks,” Cassie continued. “Victor Parks just bought the paper mill.”
“They have any kids?” Trish asked.
“Seniors; a boy and girl, they’re twins.” Cassie knew everything. Her mother worked at the school and any new family moving to town needed to register their children with her.
“Is he cute?” Elisa raised her eyebrows, rubbing her hands together in excitement.
“Hey, you’re dating Tommy,” Trish said.
“I may have to throw him back if he’s too small.” Elisa winked.
We all began to laugh again.
That’s when I heard them. The voices were low yet I picked them out as if they sat next to me. Melodic and sweet, the sound enveloped me, surrounding me as I sat motionless, my mouth open and eyes wide.
“What’s the matter Britt?” Trish asked, concern wrinkling her forehead.
“Britt, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Cassie placed a comforting hand on my arm.
“I, I…” I stuttered, listening to the sound still wafting to my ears. “Can’t you hear that?” I looked to each of them.
