A Sketch Of What You Mean To Me Part 9

'Yes and if you let me finish telling the rest of the story, you will know that it's better this way.'

'Now I'm curious.' He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

'Okay.' I breathed. 'Phew, how best to tell you that.' Suddenly, I was nervous. What if he really kept his distance from the sick kid afterward? 'Um, I won't be able to work with you this summer.'

'What, why?' His posture deflated.

'Because I will be spending a lot of time at the hospital getting my cancer treated.' I said, my voice having almost no sound.

First, Eric's eyes narrowed, then he tilted his head sideways. 'I'm waiting for you to stop kidding and tell me what you actually have to say. You are making some stupid joke, right?'

I took a deep breath and shook my head.

His eyes opened in fear when the realization hit him, he dropped backwards into his desk chair and shook his head.

'What kind of cancer? Is it bad? Since when do you know?'

I told him the facts I knew and then added 'I don't know exactly how bad it is but it surely doesn't sound like a ride in the park.'

He puffed his cheeks. 'd.a.m.ned.' He looked at me with desperation in his eyes. 'What happens now? And is there anything I can do?'

'I'll start chemo on Sat.u.r.day. And then we see from there.' I pulled my shoulders to my ears. 'That's all I know so far. And actually, I'd really appreciate it if you could just behave as normal as possible around me. And also, n.o.body else needs to know about it. I don't want anyone's pity.'

He gasped. 'You haven't told Fiona, have you? And instead, you broke up with her. Why on earth would you do something as idiotic as that?'

'You are right, she doesn't know. Don't you dare tell her. I'm sure, otherwise, she had thrown her plans of going to school in Florida overboard just to stay here with me.'

'So let her, it's her free choice.' He said sternly.

'But I didn't get a choice in this. And her scholarship is a one-time opportunity. I should be the strong one who is able to protect her and not the one who needs to be cared for.'

'You are acting out of vanity.' He threw his hands in the air.

'No. I just want to keep her from making a stupid decision of throwing away her life for a guy who perhaps won't even be here anymore in a year.' I raised my voice.

'Could it be that bad?' Eric asked with fear in his eyes.

'Well, it's the same thing that killed my dad.'

He shook his head. 'I still think you made a stupid move there but I'll respect your decision.'

'How kind of you. And good that the first thing you do, after you hear your friend is sick, is starting a fight with him.' I pursed my lips.

'Anytime, my friend. You said you wanted me to behave normal.' He chuckled. Because of the insanity of the whole situation, we both started laughing.

'Well.' Eric said, once we had calmed down. 'Just do whatever the doctors tell you. I surely do hope that you are still around for many years.'

Chapter 13.

As you can see, I had a swell start into my summer. Fiona had been gone for a week and no matter how many times I checked my phone, there was no word from her. Why should there be? But it was weird, given that she was the person I've talked to more than anyone else during the past year. So much was missing. And there was so much time to think about it while I was lying in a white hospital room, hooked to several different tubes and liquids. How did I get here? That's just one of the questions that circled in my head. My mom had raised me to a decent young guy, who you could count on and who is true to his word. So, how could I purposely disappoint someone so much? How could I have been so cruel to the person I loved most? The only person I ever truly loved. I knew that by what I had done, I had made our separation final. I would never expect her or anyone to forgive me for that. Therefore, I had no other choice but to follow the doctors' protocol in my fight against cancer and concentrate on that.

The doctors were hopeful and thought that I could beat this cancer. I was still young and other than that in good shape. I wasn't a smoker or drug addict which would surely be an advantage now. My mom shared their views and was very encouraging, even when I was throwing up every time I opened my mouth.

'Poor you', she rubbed my back. 'But you have to see it this way. Your body is vehemently fighting against what is not supposed to be in there. Every pain you walk through is a step towards victory.'

I tried to steady my breathing, pressing my lips together. The bad thing my body was revolting against was the poisonous chemo c.o.c.ktail and not the cancer. I glared at her.

'If I could, I'd throw up for you, you know that.' She said.

I nodded, sighed and took her hand.

My mom was by my side most of the time. I don't know how she managed to keep on doing her work and always bring me something good to eat, read or watch on TV.

At first, it was bearable. I slept a lot and all the tests, shots and other treatments I had to endure, I just let it pa.s.s by. I didn't think too much about the future. I wanted to believe the doctors but I didn't want to tempt fate.

Eric was a good support in all this as well. We pa.s.sed the time with strategy games but then it was his turn to go on a camping trip with Lea and her family in Vermont and whenever I was by myself in the hospital room my mind had time to wander. I wondered about Fiona. Was she still furious? I imagined different scenarios of her returning from holidays, being sad about my condition but therefore very forgiving and suggesting that we could start over. Yet, in reality, I remained on my own and felt utterly alone. If I needed fresh air, I was magically drawn to my old jogging route in Milburn Park. Not because I felt the urge to run but because it calmed me somewhat to see our lock still in place. As if nothing had changed.

In the two weeks Eric was gone, my appearance had changed drastically. To give him a heads up, I called him before he visited me again.

'Hey man, what's up?' He picked up.

'Not much. It's very boring here. I thought about taking up knitting.'

'How are you?' He asked.

'I have been better. I lost all my hair and the dark circles below my eyes reach down to the floor. Just wanted to let you know that you don't mistake me for the boy in the striped pajamas, the next time you see me.'

'Okay.' I heard him sigh. 'I guess we could expect for you to lose your hair. Anyway, I could come by tomorrow. Do you have time?'

'Let me check my busy schedule. I can fit you in between watching Sesame Street in the morning and flirting with nice nurse Patricia, who is about the age of my mom.'

At 1.30pm it knocked on my door. I knew it was Eric by the careful manner the door was opened. The nurses usually walked in quickly after the knock. It gave me enough time to place my phone back on the bedside table. I had been flipping through pictures of Fiona and me, wondering, whether she had already moved on or if she also looked at our pictures sometimes.

'Your new haircut suits you. You could still join the Marines with that.' Were his first words.

'Unfortunately, that's not my priority.'

'So, how have you been?' He asked me.

'Actually, I didn't know it was possible to feel so c.r.a.ppy. Everything hurts, everything upsets my stomach. I wished I could exchange my body for another one.' I stared at the wall.

'I don't know how I would endure it.' He sighed. 'Any word from Fiona?'

'Nope. I miss her but that's fine. I'm glad you are here though.' I smiled at him. 'Are you excited about college?' I changed the subject.

'Of course I'm here.' He snorted. 'Yes.' He looked to the ground, as if he wasn't sure whether he could speak the truth in front of me. 'My days will be filled with acting and directing and beautiful English language. Plus, living in New York City will be an adventure, too.' He pursed his lips. 'I'll come back on some weekends though. Can you attend school?'

I laughed a short laugh. 'That train has left a long time ago. But at the moment, it would be too dangerous to be around so many people who could carry all different kinds of bacteria. If all goes well though, I could take up some cla.s.ses next year.'

'You will.' Eric nodded determined. He visited me almost every day until his school started. We went down to the hospital cafeteria, out in the park or watched movies in the room. It was good having someone my age to really talk to no offence to my mom and the nurses- and forget about the cancer at least for a little while.

'This one?' My mom held up a box of truffle pralines.

'Take them to your office, I'm sure somebody will like them.' We were sorting through gifts people had given to me or my mom to make me feel better. Of course I loved sweets but my stomach had been so sensitive lately that I could only eat a small amount and therefore, I thought I could pa.s.s the candy on to people who can appreciate it.

'Look, your old English teacher wrote you a card.' She held it up and placed it on the window shelf, next to many other well-wisher cards.

'I know. Isn't it amazing how all these people seem to care? I received some cards from people I don't even know. And Josh's mom subscribed me to The Runner magazine. Now I receive news from the jogging world once a month. People go out of their way to make my life more agreeable.'

'That's how it should be. Most people are good souls, you know. That's why I still can't get over it that Fiona just cut off all the communication between the two of you.' She placed the pile of cards she was holding on her lap.

'I'm slowly getting used to it. It's ok.' My stomach tensed up.

'It's not okay.' She shook her head. 'That's not the picture I want you to have from somebody you were so close with. Love means to support each other in any situation life throws in your path.'

'Mom, leave it be.' I sighed. 'I have you and that's enough.' I smiled. 'I wouldn't know what to do with all these cards if I didn't have a secretary.'

She pursed her lips and hit my knee with one of the cards.

Apparently, Fiona was still fuming so much that she completely cut all the strings to my life and also my friends. That's why thankfully, she never heard of my condition and could leave for Florida without a bad conscience, hating me. That hurt, of course, knowing that the one I loved most hated me. I missed her so much I wished that I could turn back in time. So that I could have found another solution that she wouldn't have to suffer with me but I'd still be able to call her. I reached for my cell phone at least 50 times a day, typed in Fiona's number and erased it again. I wanted to hear her voice. But what could I have done? I messed up and I had done it on purpose and therefore should not lose sight of this purpose. Everything else would have been egotistic and cruel.

Life got even a lot lonelier when college started. Eric was off to the city and consequently only came back on some weekends. I could leave the hospital of course. Sometimes, there were whole weeks I didn't have to sleep there. But spending too much time in public places was simply too dangerous. My health was so fragile that any bacteria or a slight cold from a normal person could have been fatal for me. Suddenly, I'd spike a high fever again and my mom would have to rush back to the hospital with me, for any fever over 101 F is considered dangerous to a person being treated with chemo. Thus, most time out of the hospital, I just spent in and around our house.

Since my mom still had to work, often, I was home alone. I read, I watched TV and I was bored. In the second month, I took up cooking lunch and dinners for my mom and me. It filled more of my day and after a while it became fun to try new recipes and cook more difficult things than spaghetti.

'Mhh, what is this?' My mom tasted a creamy white soup.

'Guess.'

'Asparagus? Although, it doesn't quite taste like that.'

'No, cauliflower with a hint of horseradish.'

'A star chef couldn't have made it better.'

I was pleased. When I was healthy, I had my challenges with the track races and received praise when I did a good job. Now, what did I have? Oh, wow, well done, you managed to keep down your dinner for more than 30 minutes? I missed being good at something and cooking was the puzzle piece that fitted into my new life.

When I was at the hospital, I wasn't alone anymore either. I had made some new, unexpected friends while sitting in the waiting area before a check-up. A small about 5-year-old girl with a bald head and big shiny eyes sat in a wheelchair next to her mother opposite me.

'Can I go play?' She asked her mom.

'No, honey, we have to wait.'

'It's so boring.'

'I know.' She sighed. 'We will go play afterward.'

'Yes! They just got a new play mobile set with Indians and cowboys and horses in all colors.' The girl was so excited, it warmed my heart.

'Sounds like a fun place.' I laughed.

The girl eyed me suspiciously. 'You have no hair either.'

'That's correct.' I answered, smiling about that obvious observation.

'Only sick children are allowed to play there. You are too old but maybe because you are sick you can still come.'

'Hey, I'm not that old. Where is this room?' I asked.

'The play room on the children's cancer wing.' Her mother said. I nodded. The door opened and it was their time to talk to the doctors.

'Well, maybe I'll come by.' I said and waved to the girl.

After my appointment, I went to look for this room. My heart melted at the sight of all these little bald heads creating their own fun worlds with the few toys they are given.

'Hey, you found it.' The girl with the wheelchair spotted me.

'I did. And what's the best thing to play with?'

'I like the drawing table.' She pointed to a tiny table with a few tiny chairs. 'Can you draw?'

'No, not really.' I said.

'Aw, I wished you could. I wanted to color a unicorn but there is none in the book.' The girl was so cute, I just wanted to cuddle her. Above all, I didn't want to disappoint her.

'I'm not good at drawing, but I can practice it at home. I will draw you a unicorn and bring it back here another day. Does that sound good?'

'Yes!' The girl clapped her hands.

'When will you be back?' I asked her mom.

'Usually Wednesdays and Fridays.'

'Okay, I'll see you soon then. What's your name?'

'Sylvie.'

'Oh, that's a beautiful name. I'm Kevin.'

At home, I googled pictures from drawing books. I copied a few on normal paper. I sketched around as long until I was satisfied with the result. I drew a speech bubble and wrote 'Hey Sylvie, can I be your friend?' This was fun and so I tried my sketching abilities with a few more things. I never thought I had an artistic nerve but perhaps it was in hiding because I was so concentrated on sport. From then on, I sketched something every day, plants, food, furniture or I copied comic figures.

On Wednesday, I went back to the children's room and Sylvie was there. I handed her the drawing.