Radiate (10 page)

“Um... okay.”

He fiddles with the tape that’s holding the IV needle in my skin and adjusts the angle of the puncture. He disappears and returns with a syringe in his hand. “I’m going to put some saline in to flush this out.”

“You are a doctor, right?”

“No,” he says with a crooked grin. “I’m a phlebotomist.”

I snicker. “Is that legal in this country?”

“Blood specialist. I work in the lab down the hall. Lucky for you I was going for some coffee.”

The tube is now clear and free of my blood that was apparently backing up. “Thanks for taking care of that. I was beginning to think I was transparent.”

“Where are you supposed to be?” he asks.

I lift my arms in an overexaggerated hand and shoulder shrug. “Something about an MRI?”

“I’ll be right back.”

A moment later, a chubby, older nurse comes out with her hands on her hips. “Are you Hayley Matthews?”

“The one and only,” I quip.

“They were supposed to bring you to radiology an hour ago for your test,” she says, as if it’s my fault.

“I’ve been sitting here that long.”

“I sawanee,” she says, throwing her hands up. She rounds the back of me and steers my wheelchair down the hall. Calling back, she says, “Thanks, Brett!”

“Yeah, thanks, Brett,” I call out.

***

I get back to my room to find a party going on.

There’s a balloon bouquet, several get-well cards taped to the end of my bed, and a flower arrangement on the side table. In the middle of the bed is a huge box full of muffins, pastries, and cookies. I can smell the cinnamon from here in the doorway.

“There she is!” a bubbly woman calls out. “You must be Hayley!”

“I am,” I say, looking around. “Who are you?”

“I’m Lily. Lily Danbury. I’m your brother’s girlfriend.”

Lily’s what I’d call a wannabe hippie. She’s dressed in a long, flowing flowery skirt that falls loosely around her round hips and long legs. Birkenstocks adorn her feet, and her hair is long, straight, and parted in the middle. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that I just time traveled to a pre-Woodstock soiree.

“Did you do all of this?” I ask, nearly gasping at the festiveness of the drab hospital room.

“I did! I have a bakery in Mountain Brook called Lily of the Valley, so I brought you some of my more popular tasty treats. I hope you enjoy them. They’re all organic and made from natural ingredients.”

“Oh my God—how can I not? The smell is amazing!”

The orderly lets me out of the wheelchair, and I walk over to the bed. Crawling back into the covers, I reach for a thick-topped chocolate muffin and immediately dig in. Sooooo sweet, soft, moist, and delicious. I’m about to wolf the rest of it down, but I can’t eat all of this, or else I’ll never fit into my cheerleader uniforms. “Do you mind if I share these with my nurses?”

Lily waves her hand in the air. “I don’t mind at all.”

The door to the room opens, and in walk my mother and brother.

“There they are!” Lily exclaims.

Cliff sidles up and puts his arm around Lily. They’re cute together, but a totally odd match. Cliff is twenty-six, works for the United States Post Office, and is all Mr. Clean-Cut Conservative. Seems weird for him to be with Miss Free-Flowing Hippie Chick. I’m cool with it, though. Whatever works for them. I mean, look at Daniel and me. Not exactly from the same social stratus, but now that I’m considered a Pop due to my cheerleading status, I fit into his crowd.

I wish he’d call.

“This is simply lovely, Lily,” Mom says. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem, Mrs. M. I’m happy to do it. When Cliff told me what his little sister was going through, I just wanted to make her feel at home.”

“It’s really sweet,” I say with a weak smile.

Home. Maxwell. Daniel. Cheerleading. Routines. Dancing. Lifting Lora over my head. Strengthening my muscles. Hanging out with my new friends. Getting ready for the best senior year ever.

Or not.

Lily’s face reflects my pout. “See, Mrs. M. I was right. The little darling is depressed.”

I snap out of it. “I’m not depressed. Really, I’m not. I’m just... melancholy.”

“Same difference,” Cliff says.

“I just wish I weren’t stuck here in this room. I’m a cheerleader! I need to, like, be doing cheerleading things.”

Lily and Cliff share a look.

“Yes, you do,” Lily says. “And I’ve got the perfect distraction for you.”

Intrigued, I lift a brow at her. “Yes?”

“Tomorrow, dear one. Wait until tomorrow. I’ve arranged everything.”

Lily’s a little nuts, but I think I like her very much.

At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.

—Albert Schweitzer

Hayley, you have some very special visitors,” my nurse Ginger announces to me Friday afternoon.

I click off the television that I’ve been channel surfing for the last hour and sit up in the bed, smoothing out the sheets. Has Daniel driven all the way here to Birmingham just to see me? Man, I have no makeup on, my hair is a mess, and... holy crap... did I brush my teeth today?

It’s not Daniel, though.

Remarkably, I’m not terribly disappointed when the visitors begin filing in.

There’s clapping. Lots of it.

People I’ve never seen before in my life.

People who make me smile like a Cheshire cat.

Girls in red, white, and blue uniforms. White skirts with red in the pleats and a summer sweater of white with blue and red “BHS” emblazoned across the front. Fourteen of them. All thin, fit, and smiling at me.

They gather around my bed and begin cheering.

“P-P-P-a-t-r-i-i-i-o-t-s... P-a-t-r-i-o-t-s... Patriots the
very
best!”

Mom sits up from her crossword puzzle and claps along. I beam at her and say, “They’re Patriots, just like me.”

“I see that!”

The cheer shifts into another.

“Hey, Patriots! We’re back to fight with pride, so step aside, yell ‘Go, Fight, Win.’ Hey, Raiders! We’re back to attack. We’ll show no slack. Hey, Hayley! You’re here to fight with all your might. Yell ‘Red, Blue, and White!’ Go Patriots!”

The girls jump in place and cheer as if it’s a state championship game. Yet, they’re cheering for me. Egging me on and rooting for me to defeat my enemy—this stupid-ass cancer.

“When you’re up, you’re up; when you’re down, you’re down. When you’re up against the Patriots, you’re upside down!”

Oh! I know this one. “Hey, hey, mighty Patriots,” I cheer back at them.

“Hey, hey, mighty Patriots,” they chant in unison.

I join their voices. “Hey, hey, mighty Patriots. Let’s have a victory tonight... w00t!”

Mom applauds wildly, and I sit up on my knees in bed. I can’t believe what’s going on! Where did these chicks come from? Who sent them?

A tall girl with crystal blue eyes steps forward. “Hey, Hayley! I’m Emma Beauregard, captain of the varsity squad from Birmingham High School. We were sent here by Lily Danbury to cheer you up. And we brought you a cheer basket!”

Mom puts her hand to her chest. “That Lily. She’s a keeper.”

“That’s amazingly sweet of her, and y’all,” I say, excitement lacing my voice.

An older woman with salt-and-pepper-colored hair steps into the room carrying a ginormous basket that is literally overflowing with goodies. It’s a cheer basket. How cool! There’s a ton of stuff and red, white, and blue balloons to boot.

“I’m Lynda Loges, the girls’ sponsor at BHS. Lily was one of my students when she was in high school, and she called me to tell me what you were going through and how you were away from your own cheerleading squad. We thought you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Could I!” I say. “This is fan-freaking-tastic.”

Mom just shakes her head at me.

“Well here, dear,” Ms. Loges says to me. “This basket is for you.”

I rummage through the contents. “It’s all stuff I love,” I tell my mom. Diet Coke, candy bars, Cheetos, a Kaskade CD, a Bama Roll Tide T-shirt, young adult books, a hairbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, a toothbrush, slippers with the BHS logo, more playing cards, a gift card to download iTunes, and other fun items piled in.

“This is amazing! Thanks, Ms. Loges, Emma... thanks, all of y’all.”

The girls all take turns to hug me and introduce themselves. I completely feel a part of their team since mine is miles and miles away.

“So, when’s your surgery?” Emma asks.

“Tomorrow,” I tell her.

“Are you going to be on crutches?”

“I hadn’t really thought of it,” I admit. “I guess so.”

Emma chuckles. “I was on them two years ago. Broke my foot on a long tumbling run. Ran right into a wall.”

“Snap!” I say, wincing a little bit.

Emma pats me on the leg. “You’ll be fine. We’ve been to visit other teens here. You’re in the right place.”

My eyebrows rise. “Y’all do this regularly? The whole cheer basket thing?”

“Yeah, sure,” she says. “Being a cheerleader isn’t just pep rallies and football games. It’s about representing. About helping others. And if we can bring some joy... and cheer to people who are away from home or in a weird place, then we’ve done a good thing.”

“You certainly have,” Mom chimes in. “This means the world to Hayley and me.”

Ms. Loges claps her hands together. “Lovely. Lovely. Well, Hayley, you have an open invitation to come to one of our practices at Birmingham High School. I’ll leave all the information with your mom, and maybe she can bust you out of the hospital next week for a small road trip.” She winks at Mom.

I can’t contain my enthusiasm. “That would be
wicked
awesome!”

“Then it’s a date,” Emma says. “You can learn some of our Patriot cheers to take back to your school, and maybe you’ll share one or two of yours with us, huh?”

“Absolutely!”

The girls all wave and cheer more as they exit my hospital room.

I’m blown away that complete strangers just totally made my day.

***

Saturday afternoon, I groggily wake up from the quick biopsy surgery performed by a resident on Dr. Dykema’s team. I remember getting on the gurney, being wheeled down the corridors, and taken to the cold surgical room. Everything after that is a complete and total blur—not even a dream, because I usually remember those. This is more like... a ripple in time. I was in one place at one moment, and now I’m back here, in my hospital room.

I muster all the strength I can and try my best to lift my eyelashes up so I can see what’s going on. However, I’m weak as a newborn kitten and don’t have the power to even squint. As I vacillate between consciousness and a dead sleep, I vaguely see Dad’s face hovering over me, making sure I’m okay. I think I smile at him. Cliff and Lily are there, as well. I hear my brother’s voice and I smell his girlfriend’s jasmine perfume. Mom, ever the worrywart, is over in the corner.

In the fog of my brain, I hear Cliff talking to Mom, their whispered voices cutting through the density of my wooziness.

“You need to call her and let her know what’s going on.”

“Your sister knows our numbers,” Mom says in a low hiss.

Gretchen? They haven’t told my sister, Gretchen?

“She deserves to know, Mom,” Cliff snaps. “If you won’t do it, then I will.”

“Clifford, don’t back talk me.”

“Mom, I’m an adult. I’ll do what I want. Gretchen adores Hayley. She needs to know.”

Dad’s voice chimes in. “Cliff, your mother and I will call Gretchen tonight. Let’s drop it, okay? We need to concentrate on Hayley. She’s all that matters right now.”

Awww .
.
.

“Hay’s phone keeps bleeping,” Cliff notes.

“Probably that boy from back home,” Mom says. She must look at the phone because she gasps. “Oh my... so many messages. From her partner, Lora, other cheerleaders, that Daniel boy, and oh, look at this, from Gabriel Tremblay, too. So many people wishing her well. Pastor Tewes at the church said he’s going to visit next weekend.”

There’s a loud thud of something hitting the table. I attempt to lift my lids to see what it is, but I’m just too drowsy from the anesthesia. “What’s that, Jared?” Mom asks.

“Cards,” Dad explains. “A ton of get-well cards people sent to the house. People really are pulling for Hayley.”

“Boy, word got around fast,” Cliff says.

“Maxwell is a close-knit community,” Mom says. “It was bound to get out that she has . . .” Mom stops and I hear a hitch in her voice.

“You can say it, Mom. Cancer. It’s not a curse word,” my brother says.

Mom sniffs. “I just can’t believe . . .”

Dad intervenes. “This is all still very hard for your mother and me, Cliff.”

I sense Mom walk over toward my bed, and then I feel her hand in mine. I squeeze her fingers just to let her know I’m aware she’s nearby. She sniffs again. “You won’t understand until you have children of your own, Cliff. When your kid is hurting, you hurt for them. I would do anything in my power to swap places with her so she doesn’t have to go through this.”

“Now, Nan, everything happens for a reason,” Dad says in a consoling voice.

“I don’t understand why this happened to her,” she says with a sniff.

Neither do I .
.
.

“Let’s just hope and pray they can fix up our baby and get her well,” Dad says.

Amen to that .
.
.

Mom leans over and kisses my forehead. “We’re here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

I know, Mommy .
.
.

With that, I fall back into a deep, relaxing sleep, knowing I’m protected and loved.

When you come to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.

—Franklin D. Roosevelt

Another surgery?” I incredulously ask Dr. Stanislovitis and the team of interns. My fists dig into the fresh sheets on my bed, and I crinkle the cotton fabric tightly.