Overall, it went as well as expected, given I was stepping into Melissa's role less than a week before the concert. The role I had because she’d become unnaturally sick. I felt a little better about my guilt after reading the book on curses, but only a little.
"I hope I was okay. It's awful the way Melissa took sick on Thursday. Maybe she'll be able to make it back in time for the concert. Have you heard anything?"
I meant every word I said, but the real reason I was talking with Mrs. Henderson was to get information. Even though I’d struck out at school during the day, I hoped the teacher had heard from Melissa’s mother. If nothing else, she’d have called to cancel, right?
She patted me on the back with a small sigh. "That would be wonderful.” Recognizing my pained look before I had a chance to hide it, she rushed to reassure me. “Don’t worry, you did great. But Melissa will be missed, and the way she left...”
She shook her head, assuming a somber look I wasn’t used to seeing from the normally bubbly and energetic drama teacher.
"Have you heard anything from her?" I pressed when she didn't answer my initial question.
The teacher shook her head. "Her mother said she’s been admitted to the General. They don’t know what’s wrong yet but it sounds like she won’t be back on time for the concert this week even if she goes home in the next few days. So for good or ill, you’re it this year, kid.”
She clapped me on the back and I gave her a sickly smile.
“Umm, yeah. I wish it wasn’t because of Melissa though. Do you think she’d be up for visitors? It would be nice if we made her a card or something."
My words sounded flat to me even as I said them. They sounded so naive and chipper. Like a card could possibly make up for her losing her role to me and having to spend time in hospital.
But Mrs. Henderson regained her usual cheeriness, apparently not thinking the idea as dumb as I did. "What a lovely gesture. I like it."
She turned to the rest of the group, who were in the process of packing up for the night.
"Everyone! Robin had an idea. She's volunteered to take a card to Melissa at the hospital. If you can stay a few minutes longer, we can make it right now."
A murmur of agreement swept through the others, and a moment later, pens, paper, and even some glitter were procured. When I saw that, my eyebrows went up. Who had glitter backstage? If that stuff got out, it would spread like plague.
But a short fifteen minutes later, everyone had signed and decorated an extremely homemade card out of a piece of sturdy cardboard. It looked similar to something I’d made in grade three, complete with hearts, flowers, and glitter glue. Mrs. Henderson handed it to me with a smile as one by one, the others filed out.
Looking at the card, I realized what I’d done. I had just volunteered to visit my secret nemesis in the hospital. Was this a wise choice on my part? Well, it was too late to back out now. On the upside, now I had a reason to visit Melissa and ask what was going on. It was selfish, but I had to know for sure her getting sick wasn't my fault.
Or maybe it wasn't just me being selfish. If someone else had done this to her, maybe I could figure out why and somehow set it to rights and she could recover. Why had the woman at the store given me a book on curses in the first place? How had she known what I was thinking about? Did that mean I was supposed to stop the curse?
I was totally unqualified to be doing any of that, so I called the number Mrs. Henderson had given me for her mother instead. She informed me she’d already been transferred to St. Mary’s hospital.
It was as if the universe was giving me a sign.
I vaguely remembered visiting a colleague of my dad's there once a few years ago. It wasn't a large hospital, it was near my house, and I was confident I'd be able to find her room without any problems, leaving me without any other excuses not to visit.
Visiting hours were almost over by the time I walked back from practice, but it was less than a fifteen-minute walk from my doorstep, so I swung by on my way on the off-chance they’d let me see her.
The hospital itself was a pleasant building without the creep factor of the old Victoria Hospital, or the impersonal large-hospital feel of The Montréal General. The steps were marble and the doors a rich old wood, and the inside was a mix of modern and old. The lady at the information desk gave me Melissa's room number on the third floor, internal medicine ward, and I was in luck—she was able to take visitors for another half hour.
When I got to the floor, I paused. What was I going to say? We definitely weren't friends and hardly ever spoke more than superficially at school. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how much of that had been my own fault. I had placed my own insecurities and petty jealousy on Melissa.
When I examined our interactions over the last year, there was nothing I could fault her for. She'd always been polite, and maybe if I had tried to talk to her, we could have even been friends. I kept that idea foremost in mind as I knocked on the door, reminding myself she wasn’t the ogre I’d made her out to be in my head.
When no one answered, I slowly entered. "Hello? Can I come in? It's Robin, from drama club. Melissa?"
A weak voice wafted over, which I barely recognized as hers. "Put on a mask if you’re coming in."
I noticed a station just inside the door. It was a small utility shelf with gowns, masks, and gloves, along with hand sanitizer and garbage can. A large sign on the wall behind it told visitors to stop and take personal infection precautions.
I did as instructed, finding the yellow paper gown awkward and stifling immediately after putting it on, and the mask was hot and scratchy on my face and made me feel claustrophobic. The gloves weren’t as bad, but I felt like a scientist in one of those bioterrorism movies and I wondered what was all this to protect me against.
Suddenly even more unsure about the wisdom of visiting, I almost turned around until I heard another faint coughing fit. I stopped, concerned. "Are you sure it’s okay for me to come in?"
Her voice sounded sad. "As long as you gown up. I’m wearing a mask too, and they think the risk of transmission is low unless someone stays for hours. Not like anyone wants to visit, or stay that long when they do."
It sounded like she was trying to be funny in a self-deprecating way, but I heard a deep loneliness as well. It solidified my nerves and allowed me to take the step around the corner to see her in the bed.
She was lying against the white sheets, almost as pale as they were. Her hair was stringy and looked uncombed, and she appeared even more tired than she had at practice when she’d been carried away. The perfect princess I remembered had completely disappeared, and in her place, there was a lost girl my heart couldn't help going out to.
I smiled behind the mask before realizing she wouldn't be able to see it. I settled for injecting as much cheer into my voice as I could.
"Hey, I wanted to see how you were feeling. Any chance you can come back? We all missed you today. The show is on Friday and it's not going to be the same without you."
She looked down before shaking her head. Her eyes were resigned when they met mine again. "I don't think so. They’ve run a whole bunch of tests and are still waiting for a sputum sample to come back. I’m here until then, but so far, my preliminary diagnosis is tuberculosis."
I grimaced when she mentioned sputum, but forgot the grossness factor the second she told me the working diagnosis. I almost fell onto the chair beside the bed as I dropped into it. I blinked up at her for what I was sure was an awkward amount of time before finally forcing myself to speak.
My words echoed hollowly in the quiet room. "Tuberculosis? Wait, isn't that something Victorian women used to get, back in the day?"
Melissa began to chuckle, then the chuckle turned into a cough. Even though she was wearing a mask, she turned her head and made an effort to cover her mouth with the crook of her elbow. I saw a glass beside the bedside and picked it up, waiting until she was done coughing before handing it to her.
Sh
e accepted it gratefully, lifting her mask far enough so she could sip before placing the cup down on the nightstand beside her and slipping the mask back on.
"Yeah, apparently it was all the rage for Victorian poets and the upper-middle class. Unfortunately, I’m discovering it isn't nearly as romantic as Jane Austen makes it sound. Was it Jane Austen or someone else? Whatever. It sucks."
"Bummer." What did one say to that? It did sound pretty sucky. "So, if it really is tuberculosis, what happens next?"
She shrugged weakly. "Well, I guess I’m supposed to stay here until I'm well enough to go home. I have to take what sounds like handfuls of pills about four times a day for up to a year or something stupid like that."
"Oh no! That’s awful!” A horrible idea flashed through my head. "Does that mean you won't be able to come back to school this year? What about exams? Graduation?"
Melissa looked away and stared out the window. It wasn’t fast enough to hide the too-bright sparkle of unshed tears.
I felt helpless. Any other year it wouldn't have been as bad missing school. But grade twelve? We were finally at the finish line. She was in the running to be valedictorian— or had been. I wasn’t sure if it was an option for her now.
She turned to look at me again, sniffing once. "I know it means I won't be making the concert for sure. I’ll probably miss grad as well, though they've assured me I can still write my exams. When my mom talked to the school, they said they’d arrange things so that I could even write in the hospital if I had to."
We looked at each other for a moment. For the first time since I’d known her, I was positive I knew exactly what she was thinking, because I would have been thinking it if I were in her shoes.
"That's a totally crap way to spend the last few months of high school. What about university? Were you still planning on starting in the fall?"
The corner of her lip raised into half-smile before quickly disappearing. "Yeah, somewhat ironically, I got into McGill. Early acceptance to the Bachelor of Nursing program. My mom's checking on the rules because I might not be able to see patients until they declare me cured or something, but I should be able to do all the non-clinical work."
With every word she spoke, I felt worse for her but perversely better about myself. I couldn't have done this to her. I didn't really believe in magic and I was positive I’d only convinced myself her mystery illness had been caused by something occult because I’d never seen tuberculosis before. Which still left the question of how she’d caught it in the first place, of course.
"How do they think this happened?"
This time, she laughed out loud, immediately falling into a coughing fit. She calmed her breathing and once she’d finished, took another sip of water. When she’d caught her breath she answered, irony thick in her words.
"Strangely enough, the reason I applied to nursing in the first place is because of my mom. She's a nurse and does a lot of fly-in medicine in places far up north like Misstissini and Nunavut. I’ve gone with her a few times, and last summer I made a few friends when I went. I realized it was the kind of thing I could see myself doing. A way to make a difference in the world; to help people not only get off their feet, but also to go somewhere people don't have the option of the kind of healthcare we take for granted here."
She shrugged, now looking matter-of-fact. I was impressed by how she seemed to be taking it all in stride. If I had been in her shoes, I’d likely still be wailing about how unfair everything was.
"I probably got it there. Tuberculosis isn't an old-fashioned disease in many places in the world and rates are currently increasing up north. The worst part is a lot of these cases are becoming resistant to standard treatments. They haven’t told me this, but I suspect it’s at least part of why I'm still here. I'm feeling well enough to go home and lay on the couch, but they need to make sure what I have is treatable before they send me away, so that I don’t infect others."
I exhaled, even more impressed than I'd been before. “I had no idea. I guess I assumed you’d be heading into a music program, probably at McGill. It’s hard for me to admit, but I’ve always been a little jealous of you, especially your voice.”
Melissa’s eyes went wide. “Really? Jealous? That’s funny, because I’ve always I wished I had your voice.”
For a moment, I was completely lost for words as we looked at each other, then as if a dam had burst, we both started laughing.
"Okay, fine. We both like each other's voice better than our own." Melissa spoke first, wiping her eyes from the moisture laughter had caused.
I was happy to see her color had perked up, but still surprised she’d say she liked my singing considering how I’d always considered hers the better talent. At that moment, the last remnant of jealousy vanished.
Smiling beneath my mask, I added, "I guess it's kind of like leaving a voicemail. You always hate the sound of your voice when it's played back to you."
"Oh, yuck! Absolutely. I won't even listen to recordings where I'm the only one singing because it sounds so wrong to me," she agreed, her eyes crinkling with a matching smile hidden by the mask.
It was surreal to be sitting her with her so agreeably, smiling and joking about how we hated our own voices. I’d been jealous of her for so long and now I was left with a lightness, as if I’d been carrying around a weight and had just put it down.
Almost instantly, regret about all the time I’d wasted replaced the lightness. We only had a few months until the end of the year and after that, we may never see each other again.
"Do you think they’ll let me visit you in the evening, after school is out?"
I hadn't realized I was going to ask the question until I said the words, but the second I had I knew I wanted to.
Melissa raised her eyebrows. I could see she hadn’t expected the non-sequitur either. "I'm not sure, why?"
"Well, I know you have other friends that could do it, but if you want, I can bring your homework. It’s on my way home anyway. I mean, only if Rachel or one of your other friends can't visit. You know."
I trailed off, feeling dumb. I was certain she’d decline the offer. After all, she had so many friends, surely one had already been tagged to drop off the boringness that was homework.
To my surprise, she sat up a little straighter in bed. "You’d do that for me?”
She sounded completely floored, but it was hard to read her expression and determine how she felt with half of her face covered.
It was my turn to shrug awkwardly. "Well, yeah. I'm like a ten minute walk away from here, fifteen tops. I can stop by on my way home from school. As long as I'm allowed to visit, of course."
Melissa blinked rapidly. I wondered if she was holding back tears again and her suspiciously thick voice confirmed my suspicion when she finally answered.
"That would be really great. To be honest, I haven't seen Rachel all weekend. She was kind of distant Friday on the phone and hasn’t called since. I think she's scared of catching whatever I have and I don't blame her. If this is tuberculosis, it's kind of a big deal. I’m still hoping it isn't of course, but they don’t have anything else on their differential."
I shook my head. "Man, it's such a bummer. Especially at this time of year. I wish this wasn't happening to you."
"Yeah. Me too. Apparently it's not uncommon for symptoms to show up months after you’ve been exposed.” Her eyes widened. "Maybe it isn't safe for you to be here."
"Actually, I might be the best person to visit." At her confused look, I explained. "I lived in the North when I was younger. My dad taught at Aurora College in Yellowknife for a couple of years, and I was born up there. Because the rates of tuberculosis are relatively high, my parents got me vaccinated at birth. Either way, I'll keep wearing my mask, and I’ll make sure not to stay too long. I’m sure you get tired quickly."
Nodding vigorously, she answered, sounding happy for the first time since I’d entered. "That would be great. I'm getting bored being here with nothing to do. A
t least homework will help pass the time." She pointed out a small stack of books. "My mom brought my textbooks and stuff, but having the actual assignments every day to work on would allow me to keep up to date."
"Yeah. Hey, maybe they'll let you work ahead! I'll talk to the teachers and see what they can do for you."
I stood, feeling it was probably past time to go. Melissa was beginning to look tired again but as I turned to leave, I realized I’d forgotten to give her the card. I held it up, biting my lip at her stunned silence.
“Pretty impressive, hey?”
I tried not to snort as I looked at it again. It could have been finger-painted by a tribe of gorillas, which wasn't far from the truth.
“Wow. I mean, um, just wow.” Melissa’s tone was polite, but she could only hold it until our eyes met.
Simultaneously, we burst into laughter. When her inevitable coughing fit calmed us down, I was surprised to discover I didn’t want to leave. I had been enjoying spending time with her.
"If you’re sure, I’ll stop by after school tomorrow. Did you want me to bring you a Frappuccino or something?"
Melissa clapped a hand over her heart dramatically. "That would be amazing.”
We both giggled for a moment, then slowly, she let her hand drop and looked at me seriously.
"I'm really happy you came by today. It means a lot. It's funny, I always thought you didn't like me, so I never bothered you. But to have you come to see me when my best friend won’t...well, it puts things into perspective. Thanks again. But seriously— I'm going to hold you to that Frappuccino. The coffee in here is awful!"
I laughed and slung my bag over my shoulder, smiling beneath my mask. "I keep my promises, don't worry."
Giving her one last wave, I walked out into the sunny evening with a spring in my step.
Chapter 8
I kept my promise and stopped by the next day. The caramel Frappuccino I brought was met with grand vows of love and marriage, which sent us into gales of laughter, ending with Melissa having another coughing fit.
Kingdom of Crowns and Glory Page 13
