Ray of Sunlight (23 page)

“If it’s too much to ask…,” he was saying.

“There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you, CJ.” I caressed his cheek and placed a small kiss on his lips. “Nothing.”

“Hmmm, good.” He snuggled back into me. “Love you, Russ.”

“God, CJ. I love you so very much.”

He
hmmm’d
again and closed his eyes.

“Barb?” I sounded terrified, even to me.

She felt for a pulse and counted his respirations. “He’s just sleeping, Russ.” She stood up and looked at me. “Are you okay with this? Are you sure?”

“It’s what he wants. It’s all I can do for him.”

She nodded and brushed my hair out of my face. “Okay, baby.” She gave me the call button, told me to call her if I needed her, placed a kiss on CJ’s head, and walked toward the door. When she turned back one last time, there were tears in her eyes.

“God, CJ. I love you so much,” I repeated into the stubbly hair that had grown back since he had stopped taking treatments. I didn’t even know if he could still hear me.

He truly seemed to just be sleeping, and after a while—maybe two hours or so—I finally fell asleep again as well… hoping, but not really expecting, that he’d still be there when I woke up.

I woke up a couple of times throughout the night. Barbara had left a note so that I could see it, that she had called my parents and told them I wouldn’t be home that night… that I was safe, but was staying at the hospital. She told me much later that Allen had answered the phone and had had a cow, saying that I had best come home if I knew what was good for me. I was thankful she hadn’t put that in the note.

Another time, there was a note saying that Pete was there, sleeping on the playroom couch. I would never have thought, less than a year ago, that he and I would have become so close. I didn’t know at the time if Barbara had told Allen why I was staying, but Pete must have figured it out somehow. It was good to know he was there for me, even though I was worried about Allen tarring him with the same brush as me for not being home.

I lost count of how many times I woke up to check on CJ. Each time I woke up, I stroked his back and his fuzzy hair, and kissed his head, but he never woke up again. I checked the pulse in his neck and watched for breathing. They both seemed to be getting slower each time I checked. Up until then, I had really hoped he was wrong about this being “it.” I was hoping that it was just a really bad night, but that he really didn’t have any magical way of knowing he was going tonight. I should have known better. He was CJ. Of course he was magic.

It was a testament to how emotionally wrung out I was that I slept at all. Somehow I did. But, something woke me at one in the morning. I instinctively gathered CJ closer, but I could tell something was different. I jostled his weight a little so that I could look at his face. It was so peaceful, but blank somehow. I didn’t even need to check his pulse or watch for breathing to know that he was gone. I pulled him even closer and cried into his hair for the longest time.

How was I going to go on without him? He had changed my life. He was my first love. At that point in time, I was convinced that he’d be my only love. I wanted so desperately to bring him back, or to just go with him. But after sitting there for a long time, I finally decided that there was no way to do either one. I brushed my face against his hair, drying some of my tears, unwilling to let go of him long enough to use my hands to do so.

Finally, I did let go just long enough to ring the call button.

Barbara was in like a shot. It didn’t even occur to me at the time to realize that it was no longer her shift. I found out later that she had stayed on purpose, feeling she somehow owed CJ that.

I was barely aware of her lifting his body off of my lap and putting him on the bed. She pulled me up and walked me down the hall to where Pete was. He took one look at me and knew what had happened. He hugged me tight and just let me cry.

I
T
SEEMED
like I sleepwalked through the next week. Dr. Dunlap arranged for the funeral. I remember going, but I don’t remember much about any of it. I remember Allen being an ass about something, but it didn’t really register about what.

I know that Pete was right there the whole time. He took my keys and refused to give them back all week. I think he was afraid I’d wrap my car around a tree—whether he thought it would be intentional or just because I was so out of it, I wasn’t really sure. I think it was probably a fifty-fifty chance for either one.

I remember that most of Pete’s youth group was there. Pastor Roy spoke at the funeral, and Pete’s church arranged a reception afterward.

Many of the kids’ parents and even some of the older kids themselves were there. I had never seen or even heard tell of a funeral so packed with people in all my life. As much as CJ touched my life, I sometimes forgot that he did that for everyone he met. There had always been something magical about CJ. It was like since he knew he wasn’t going to have a big quantity of life, he was going to make up for it with quality, and he packed every moment with so much joy and… life… that it made everyone around him want to live life to its fullest too.

Not all of CJ’s qualities were magical, and I felt privileged to be one of the few he felt comfortable enough around to show those to. Inside all that joy of life was still a little boy whose family had abandoned him just for being who he was. He was insecure in some ways and was very worried about the world’s reaction to gay people… especially toward me. But, even with his little imperfections, he never stopped thinking of others. It was impossible to guess just how many kids came through Children’s Hospital in the time CJ lived there. How many he cheered up or helped by making physical therapy just a little more fun.

I stayed in my room for a week, thinking of CJ, wondering what I was going to do without him. Mom was even being nice to me. She brought meals to my door. I didn’t always unlock it long enough to retrieve the tray, but I knew she was doing it, and on some level I was actually touched.

Pete got fed up with my recluse act at some point and jimmied my door open. He brought in the tray of food I hadn’t bothered retrieving, set it down on the table beside my bed and then kicked me.

“What the hell?” I screamed at him.

“It’s time to get the hell up now,” he replied sternly and when I just rolled over, he added, “You’re not the only one who loved him, you know. Everyone did. We all miss him.”

I rolled over and glared at him. How dare he compare anyone else’s grief with mine. I was in love with the man.

But Pete wasn’t finished. “CJ would kick your ass right now.”

That got my attention, but I just looked at him.

His voiced softened. “Come on, Russ. CJ worked so hard to make sure you had a great future. And he wanted you to remind the kids of him. It’s been almost two weeks, and all you’ve done is lie in bed. You know CJ would give you shit for that.”

I turned back over and ignored him, but he had started me thinking. CJ wouldn’t like how I was reacting. But I just couldn’t get up. I couldn’t just go on like nothing happened. He was the love of my life, and now he was gone. But, once heard, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head.

E
LEVEN
DAYS
after the funeral—exactly fourteen days since CJ had died in my arms—I was actually sitting on the edge of my bed, which was farther than I usually got. It was dark outside, even though it was only noon. It had been raining all day, but the rain had finally stopped, and the sun was coming out. A single ray of sunlight poured in through my window. Dust particles danced in the beam as it led from my window to my floor, and I swear I could hear CJ’s voice.

“
There are so many storms in life, Russ. So many clouds. It’s up to us to be a ray of sunlight.”

An idea popped into my head and refused to leave. It quickly became an obsession. I got up for the first time in two weeks, took a shower, and headed out. Pete said something as I passed his door, but I didn’t really understand what he said. Mom remarked about something. Allen yelled. I just walked out the door and down the street to get my car. Jake had an extra set of keys, so I took those and went to the hospital, stopping at the hardware store on the way.

I
WAS
up on the ladder in front of the main wall in the foyer. I didn’t know how long I’d been there, but I was almost done, when Barbara called up to me. Apparently someone had called her and told her what I was doing.

“Russ, honey,” she called up. “You were finished with the mural. The board needs to approve any changes. You know that.”

Somehow, that was the first thing that got all the way through to me since Pete’s talk several days before.

“If they don’t like it, I will just paint over the whole fucking thing. I’m the artist, and I say when it’s done.” I turned back to put the final couple of brushstrokes on my masterpiece. I stepped down and moved the ladder, then looked at the finished product.

“Oh, Russ,” Barbara exclaimed. “It’s CJ.”

It was, too. All the trees had faces. It never seemed right that the sun didn’t have one, but I hadn’t been able to come up with a face that I liked for the most important part of the mural. Now I had. It was fitting that CJ be the face of the sun. He had been a ray of sunlight for so many while he was there…. Now he could continue being the sun itself for as long as that mural existed.

Barbara hugged me. “I don’t think the board will have any problem with that at all.”

I
FOUND
myself wandering up to CJ’s room. They had left it just like it was for now. They wanted me to go through his things and keep anything I wanted. He had wanted me to have the makeup table and all the clown stuff. Until now, I hadn’t been able to even come look at the stuff, let alone deal with any of it.

As I entered the room, I was filled with such a sense of “CJ,” I could hardly bear it. The room had always been a reflection of him… so colorful and so full of life.

I wandered around the room, touching all the posters and drawings, running my hand down the mattress, which they had made for some reason. I made my way over to the makeup table and sat down. There was an envelope sitting on the desk with RUSS written on it. I opened it and took out the letter, shook out the paper, and began to read.

Russ, I hope I got the chance to actually tell you some of this, but in case I didn’t, I gave this letter to Barbara to keep until after… well, you know.

You have been there for me through the toughest period of my life. I don’t know how to begin to thank you. I just hope that you always knew how grateful I was. I know I had hang-ups about you telling your folks or anyone at school or church about our relationship, but I hope you realized that it had nothing to do with my feelings about you. I loved you more than I ever thought I could love anyone… so intensely that I know that love will never die… even when I do. I don’t have it all figured out, Russ… not by a longshot, but I think… well, that much love must go somewhere, right? I don’t know if I believe in heaven or reincarnation or what, but I know in my heart that my love for you will continue to exist… in some form.

Do me a favor, Russ?
Live life to the fullest. Pour every ounce of that considerable heart you have—but like to hide in public—into each moment of the day. Go to college, then beyond, and make your mark on the world—as big a mark as you made on me. If the world sees even a fraction of the brilliant, funny, gifted man I saw, you can’t fail.

I’ll be watching, Russ. Somehow, I’m sure I’ll be able to do that. I want to see you be happy. Don’t get bogged down in my death, Russ. Remember my life instead, and live yours. I know you’ll grieve, but I want you to get past that, and get back to life. Take care of my kids. Do the clown thing for them. Remind them of me. But put your own stamp on everything you do.

You have so much to give the world, Russ. I wish I could be there in body while the world found that out; but even if you can’t see me, I’ll see you. I’ll be there in spirit, right beside you, no matter what you do.

Go make me proud, Russ, as you always have in the past. Please don’t let my passing stop you from grabbing the wonderful future I know is ahead of you.

I love you, Russ. That will never end.

I read the last words, “Love, CJ.” And wiped the tears from my eyes. Pete had been right. CJ would have been kicking my ass for lying there in that bed for so long. It was exactly what this letter asked me not to do. And I had known that without the letter, of course. I just missed him so much.

I don’t know how long I sat there before Barbara came in and asked me if I was all right.

“Could you make a phone call for me?” I asked her, then explained my plan.

She agreed that she would and came back in to tell me the verdict. I started putting my plan in action.

A half hour later found me outside the door of the playroom on the burn ward. Ms. Carol was there to lend moral support. I flashed back to that first day of community service… the first day I met CJ.

“This is for you, CJ,” I said under my breath as I looked into the room full of children. I straighten to my full height, clutched that ridiculous show bag that CJ always took with him, and tried not to let tears ruin my makeup.

When I thought I had myself sufficiently under control, I stepped through the doorway, spread my arms wide and announced, “It’s showtime!” And the kids erupted in cheers and laughter.

I
T
’
S
BEEN
ten years since the love of my life died in my arms.

I graduated from the Art Institute and have a successful art career. The institute set me up with my first art show, exhibiting my original work, and I’ve been touring with various shows off and on ever since. I still paint murals. Most of the hospitals and schools in eastern New York have my murals in the hallways. I’ve done murals for churches and other organizations as well. I do those for donations only. I never set a price, but the donation they each come up with more than covers my time and contributes to a comfortable lifestyle.