The Time Capsule (9 page)

SIXTEEN

“It’s official. I’m stuck here for Christmas,” Adam told Alexis. He was in bed that day because he was having a particularly difficult time with his treatments. The chemo cocktail had taken its toll, leaving him limp, weak, without any energy. He kept a bedpan within reach because he could keep nothing in his stomach.

“Can’t you bribe your doctor to let you out for one day?” Alexis was in his room addressing Christmas card envelopes for their mother, who’d gone down to buy the two of them some lunch. School was out for the holidays, and they came to visit Adam every day.

“I’ve already begged,” Adam said.

The pediatric floor was decorated for the holidays, but the number of patients staying over the holidays was going to be small. Of those who were staying, a few would receive day passes, enabling them to leave on Christmas Eve and return late afternoon on Christmas Day. But not Adam.

“Well, not to worry. I’ve already got a plan.”

“Ally, you always have a plan.”

“It’s a good plan. We’re going to set up an artificial tree in that corner”—she pointed—“and bring all our gifts down here first thing Christmas morning. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds like I’ll be the only one in the family without presents to give.”

“Au contraire,”
Alexis said with a wave of her hand. “I took the liberty of shopping for you. You bought Dad a bookstore gift card, Mom a sweater with fake fur trim and me two new CDs. Thanks a bunch.”

He shook his head. “Gee, I hardly remembering hitting the stores. Did I have fun picking out these things?”

“Tessa and I acted on your behalf, so yes, you had fun.”

“Well, is it too late to ask you to do me a favor?”

She laid down her ballpoint pen. Even from where she was sitting, she could see that Adam was struggling with the exertion of talking. His skin had a yellow cast, and purplish half circles lay under his eyes like bruises. “Anything, just name it,” she said.

“I’ve heard that Rudy’s finally going home.”

“Wow, that’s a great Christmas present.”

“Yes, it is. And I thought of another one. I lie here with plenty of time to think,” he said. “Nights are the worst because I wake up and can’t get back to sleep.”

“Did you tell Mom? Or your doctor?”

He took a couple of deep breaths. “This isn’t about sleeping better. It’s about something I want to do for him. And for the other kids too. But I’ll need your help.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Maybe it’s something you and Tessa can do together. I know how much you both like projects.”

“I’m sure Tessa will help.”

“You’ll have to get money from Dad.”

“Piece of cake.”

A tiny smile quivered on his mouth. “Then here’s what I want you to do for me. . . .”

With less than a week before Christmas, Alexis picked up Tessa for their day of special shopping from the list Adam had given her. “He wants
me
to help?” Tessa asked. “I can’t get over it.”

“He asked that we do it together. And why shouldn’t he? You visit him almost as much as I do. He’s depending on you. That should tell you something about his feelings for you.”

“It tells me that I’m like a second sister to him,” Tessa said. “Not that I’m complaining. Although I’d rather have him look at me with love in his eyes. You know, the way Sawyer looks at you.”

“All in good time,” Alexis said. It heartened Alexis to know that Tessa saw past Adam as he was now, ravaged by cancer and his treatments. “Ready to hit the stores?”

“Are we financed?”

Alexis reached into her purse and pulled out a small square of plastic. “Dad’s card.”

“He’s given it to you again?
After
Disney World?”

To Alexis, the days at Disney were a distant memory. So much had happened since then. “Not for me. For Adam,” she said, putting the car into gear.

They went to three department stores, four specialty stores and two giant toy stores, where they looked at more than a hundred different teddy bears before choosing the ones they wanted. “The most important ingredient,” Tessa said, stroking one of the cute, cuddly bears as Alexis wove in and out of the heavy holiday traffic.

Next they went to a party store, where they bought several bags of party favors. And finally, they stopped at a piece-goods store and bought an assortment of material, sequins, glue, thread and other odds and ends. After five hours of shopping, they returned to Alexis’s house and spread their bounty out on the dining room table. “The most underused piece of furniture in the place,” Alexis told Tessa. She wasn’t complaining, because she and her parents ate most of their meals up at the hospital these days as a family.

They began to sort through the party favors and were cutting pieces of material into heart and star shapes when Eleanor came into the room. “What are the two of you up to?”

“A very special project,” Alexis said, snipping away at a yard of red satin. “Adam wants to give every kid on his floor a teddy bear for Christmas. Especially Rudy. But he doesn’t want them to be just store-bought teddy bears. He wants each one to be customized for its owner. Clever, huh?”

“How many bears are we talking about?” Eleanor scanned the table strewn with fuzzy bear bodies of different shapes and sizes.

“Fifteen.”

“And the two of you are going to customize
fifteen
bears by Christmas?”

“By Christmas Eve,” Alexis said. “That’s when Adam wants to take them around to every room and give them away.”

“How do you know what’s special to these kids? How do you know how to customize these bears?”

“Adam’s made friends with everyone on the floor, and he’s written down what each kid likes best. All we have to do is follow the list he’s made and tag the bear with the child’s name.” She held up a page of notes.

“This one’s for Rudy,” Tessa said, lifting a soft brown potbellied bear from the table. A fireman’s hat was strapped to its head, and a party-favor-sized ax was tied to its paw. “Don’t you think he’s adorable? We’re thinking of gluing a red satin heart onto his chest too. Or maybe a yellow satin star with HERO written on it. What do you think would look better?”

Eleanor stroked the bear, fingering the hat and the assortment of hearts and stars spread out like a fan. “Adam thought of this?”

“He did,” Alexis said. She watched her mother’s eyes go misty.

Eleanor cleared her throat. “Can I help?”

“Absolutely,” Alexis said without hesitation. “Neither Tessa nor I can sew worth a darn, and we’d really rather sew the heart or star on than glue it.”

“I can sew. I used to make your little dresses, remember?” Eleanor pulled out a dining room chair and began to thread a needle. “I like the star idea better,” she said. “More boyish, don’t you think?”

Alexis and Tessa exchanged glances. “Sure, Mom. Knock yourself out. There’s plenty of sewing to do.”

When Alexis’s father came home, he stopped in the doorway of the dining room, and Alexis once more explained about the project.

“Pretty ambitious,” he said. “A different bear for every kid?”

“It’s a good idea,” Alexis insisted. “Although I think it would be a good thing to give bears away to
every
child the minute he or she’s admitted to the floor. Of course, they couldn’t be customized, but the child would have something soft to hug.”

“You’re right,” Eleanor said. “Something cuddly to hug would be nice. I remember how scared Adam was when he was first checked in at age eleven. He was probably too old for teddy bears, but I know that if someone had handed him one he would have held on to it.”

Alexis thought back to that time when everything had changed for her family, and she wanted to say that things can be pretty scary for kids left alone at home too. “People are never too old for teddy bears. I still have my old Winnie the Pooh bear in my closet.”

Her father set down his briefcase and walked around the table to stand beside her mother. “What are you working on?”

Eleanor held up her handiwork for his inspection. “A ballerina bear. See the little toe shoes? We made them out of felt. And I sprinkled glitter on her tutu.”

“It’s for Sara,” Alexis said, looking over at the list. “She’s nine, and she has leukemia.”

Her father examined the bear, then handed it back to his wife. “Nice job. I’d forgotten how well you sew.”

“I haven’t done it for years, but I used to love sewing. I’d forgotten just how much.”

He gently swiped his thumb down her cheek. “You have glitter stuck to your skin.”

“It’ll wash off.”

He peered over at Alexis. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Surprised by her father’s offer, she thought quickly. “How about ordering in some pizza? We’re starved.”

“I can handle that,” he said, sounding pleased.

“And then we’re going to need some name tags. Maybe you can make some on the computer with a couple of cool typefaces. I’ll punch a hole in the corners and tie them to each bear with a ribbon. Here’s the list of names we’ll need.”

He saluted her and took the piece of paper she handed him. “I’m on my way.”

Alexis caught Tessa’s eye and shrugged. Who could have guessed that either of her parents would want to work on dressing up teddy bears for sick kids? Certainly not her.

Adam grinned like a kid who’d won a prize when Alexis, Tessa and his parents brought the box full of bears to his room two days before Christmas. He examined every bear, proclaimed each perfect and listened wholeheartedly while they took turns explaining how they’d made each one.

“Besides paying for it, what did you do, Dad?”

“I made tags and invested a small fortune in pizza and Chinese food. The worker bees needed nourishment, you know.”

“I don’t want to wait until tomorrow,” Adam said. “Let’s deliver them right now.”

When his parents went to get a wheelchair from the nurses’ station, he asked Alexis, “They got into this without you begging them?”

“Totally into it. I was shocked by how into it they got.”

Tessa said, “I think they were disappointed that we only had to make fifteen.”

“Whatever. I’m glad they wanted to help,” Adam said. “What should we call the project? Bears this cute should have a name, don’t you think?”

“How about Adam’s Bears?” Alexis offered. “Short and to the point.”

“Too boring.” He snapped his fingers. “How about Boo-Boo Bears?”

“Adam’s Boo-Boo Bears,” Tessa amended. “Their owners should know who masterminded the goodies.”

As soon as their parents returned with the wheelchair, Adam climbed in and settled his mask over his nose and mouth, a Santa hat on his head and the box of bears on his lap. Alexis and Tessa pushed him along the hall and into every room, where he doled out each custom-made bear to its intended owner. Every child was thrilled, and Alexis knew that part of their delight was because the gift had come from Adam, because he cared, because he’d befriended them.

Adam saved Rudy’s room for last. “I’ll wait in the hall,” Tessa said.

Once inside, Adam handed Rudy his fireman bear and a wrapped package that had been at the bottom of the delivery box. Alexis had not seen it until that moment, and she gave Adam a questioning look, which he politely ignored. “Merry Christmas, little brother.”

“Both presents are for
me
?”

“Sure are.”

Rudy hugged the bear and pronounced it “awesome,” then sat it on the bed so he could tear into the package. “Wow,” he said, removing Adam’s old baseball glove. “Is it real?”

Alexis felt her breath catch.

“It’s real, and it’s already broken in,” Adam said. “You’re the only brother I’ll ever have, and I want you to keep it. You take good care of it, hear?”

“I will!” Rudy’s eyes shone in his scarred face.

“You have a merry Christmas,” Adam said. “And call me and tell me what Santa brings you.”

When they were again in the hall, Alexis said, “Why did you do that?”

“It needs a good home. I had Dad wrap it up because I knew you’d try and talk me out of giving it away.”

“But—”

“No, Ally. This is what I want. If things work out and I get to play in the spring, you can buy me a new one, okay?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Adam leaned back in the chair, looked up at Alexis and Tessa. “I think the bears were a real hit. Now I know how Santa Claus feels. Thanks for making it happen.”

“Well, Santa’s elves here are worn out. Look at this.” Alexis held out her hands. “Chipped nails, and glue stuck to my skin. It may never come off.”

Adam’s eyes crinkled around the mask, and Alexis knew he was smiling. “I don’t think elves whine and complain. They’re happy and cheerful.”

“Ha! That’s what you think. Next year we’re forming a union for the humane treatment of elves and other Christmas helpers.”

Adam pressed his forefingers to his temples. “Let’s see. . . . Tell me, sis, can you read my mind right now about what I think of your proposed elf union?”

She feigned shock. “Of course I can, and what you’re thinking is positively
rude,
Adam Chappel. Especially for Santa Claus.”

He laughed heartily, and the sound warmed her heart.

SEVENTEEN

In mid-January, Adam’s doctors allowed him to come home. On the Friday afternoon he checked out, Tessa pulled Alexis aside and said, “He doesn’t look so good. Are you sure he should be getting out of here?”

Alexis dismissed her friend’s concerns. “They wouldn’t let him go if he wasn’t better. I remember when he came home the other two times. He was sick, but after a few weeks, he got stronger, and then he did everything again. He just needs some time. He’ll be fine.”

Adam was restricted to the house. He was to go to the hospital for outpatient lab workups weekly, with the understanding that if his doctors didn’t like what they saw, he would be re-admitted. Alexis assumed that her brother would chafe against the confinement, but Adam was too weak, too sick to do much more than remain in bed.

Eleanor put a bell on Adam’s bedside table, telling him, “If you want anything, ring it. I’m just downstairs.”

“Just until you get your strength back,” his father told him.

“We can always put a hospital bed in the living room if you’d like to be downstairs,” Eleanor suggested.

Adam looked horrified. “I want to stay in my room. I’ll feel like I’m on display in the living room.” He stopped and glanced up at Eleanor, looking contrite. “Course, that means you’ll have to run up the stairs all day long.”

“I don’t mind. It’ll keep me fit.”

Without daily visits to the hospital, Alexis had assumed that her time would be freer. She was wrong. With a full class load, she faced tests and papers she’d put off all year. In March, Mrs. Wiley stepped up debate rehearsals to three afternoons a week because their team had barely squeaked out a win at the last tournament before state. “We’re going in as top seed,” she kept saying if anyone complained. “Only a few more weeks, so hang in there. We can win the whole enchilada. I know we can.”

With so much of her time and energy going to home and school, Alexis had little time for other things. Especially for Sawyer.

With only a week remaining before she was to leave for Tallahassee, he stopped by the house. He looked grimy from soccer practice, and she figured he’d come straight from the field. “Mom’s at the store, and Adam’s asleep,” she said. “Come up to my room and we’ll talk.”

“I never see you anymore,” he said, looking unhappy and getting right to the point once they were upstairs.

“We see each other. I’m at school every day.”

“With your face in a book. How about showing up at a few of my soccer games?” His season was in full swing. The team played once a week after school, but she rarely went.

“You know I have a ton of work. Mrs. Wiley is smelling that championship, and she’s like a dog with a bone. I have to do my best; there will be a ton of college recruiters there. You should understand about that. Don’t coaches come watch you play? Aren’t you trying for a soccer scholarship?”

“You know I am, but I don’t want to sacrifice you and me.”

“Are you saying I do?”

They had squared off and were standing in the middle of her room facing each other.

“I’m just asking for a little more time with my girl. I get the stuff about school and debate, even though it never used to string you out like this. But why don’t we ever have any extra time with each other? Not even on weekends?”

“You know I tutor Adam,” Alexis said. “He’s having a hard time getting his strength up.”

“He’s on the homebound program. He has teachers.”

“He does, but if he’s going to graduate in June with our class, he needs a lot more help than he’s getting. He’s sick almost every day, so the window on working with him is short.”

Sawyer looked exasperated. “Why are you putting this on yourself, Ally? You’re not responsible for whether or not he graduates in June.”

“I want to walk with my brother. We started first grade together. I want us to finish high school together. What’s so hard to understand about that?” She was becoming impatient with Sawyer.

“Don’t turn me into some insensitive clod just because I want to spend time with you.”

“And don’t you turn me into a uncaring pain because I have more on my mind than you.”

“Well, gee, Ally, forgive me for being so narrow-minded and thoughtless. Don’t you think I get it? I know how important Adam is to you. But what about us? Where is the
us
in the picture these days?”

“Don’t make me choose, Sawyer.”

He grabbed his jacket, which he’d tossed on her bed. “You already have,” he said.

Totally stunned by Sawyer’s vehemence, Alexis watched him go, heard him bound down the stairs and heard the front door shut hard behind him. After the heat of the fight, the air grew quiet until all she heard was her own breathing. A moment later, Adam’s bell rang. She went to his room quickly. “Do you need something?” Her voice quavered.

“Did I just hear you and Sawyer going at it?”

“Sorry if we woke you.”

“I don’t care about that. I wasn’t eavesdropping, but it didn’t sound like the two of you were hugging and kissing.”

“We had a fight because he doesn’t think I’m spending enough time with him.” She edged into a chair. “I told him to take a number and get in line.”

“Don’t do that to him, Ally. He’s crazy about you.”

“What’s the use? We’re going off to separate colleges, so we’ll have to break up sooner or later anyway. Why put off the inevitable?”

“Listen to me—you should put off the inevitable as long as you can. Take it from someone who knows.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve just spent the last few months putting off the inevitable, but I can’t do it much longer.”

She felt as if he’d stabbed her. “Don’t talk about—”

“What? Dying? Why can’t anybody use that word around here? Am I the only one who can say it out loud?”

“Stop it.” She stood, irritated that he’d needle her this way. “You’re not going to die.”

He closed his eyes, waited a minute. When he opened his eyes, he said quietly, “My liver’s failing. I go every week for tests, and that’s what the tests show. The meds they gave me have destroyed my liver. They can’t fix it.”

She wanted to put her hand across his mouth to stop the flow of his terrible words. “What are you saying? How could they give you drugs that hurt you?”

“Because they’d given me everything else and nothing worked. I knew the new drugs were risky—they told me so from my first consultation in the hospital. I took the risk anyway because it was also my only chance. I thought you knew.”

“No one told me about the risks.”

“Look, I—I didn’t mean for you to
not
know. It wasn’t a secret. I thought Mom and Dad explained it to you.”

“No one told me,” she repeated, feeling as if he’d hammered her with powerful body blows. Why hadn’t she known? Why hadn’t someone told her the truth? “That’s not right. . . .” She couldn’t decide which of the two was worse for her, the not knowing about the true potential of the drugs to harm him, or the fact that no one had been open and honest with her about his chances of survival.

“I wore a heart monitor,” Adam said gently. “I was constantly tested. What did you think was going on?”

“You were sick the last time you were treated. All the chemo made you sick. I thought this was the same thing.” Her voice had faded to a whisper, and her face felt hot.

“I relapsed twice. Medical science was all out of options. And now, so am I.”

She couldn’t see his face clearly for the tears in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry for me. I’m okay with this. We all have to die sometime. Someone has to go first, big sister.”

“Don’t say that to me! You’re doing your schoolwork. You’re going to graduate with me.”

He reached out his hand, but she wouldn’t take it. “I’m doing everything I can to keep that date with you. I want to make it. I really do. I just can’t promise you I will.”

She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t even feel. She was numb all over. She left Adam’s room without a word, easing the door shut behind her.

“Why are you sitting alone in the dark?” Eleanor asked, coming into the living room.

Alexis was curled into a fetal position on the sofa, and she didn’t answer.

Her mother set a bag of groceries on the coffee table. “Honey, what is it?” Alexis heard her breath catch. “Adam—?”

“He’s asleep,” Alexis said.

Eleanor leaned over, turned on a lamp, then sat on the edge of the sofa. She stroked Alexis’s shoulder, but Alexis recoiled. “Don’t touch me.”

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Adam’s going to die and nobody saw fit to tell me.” She aimed her words like darts. “The drugs that were supposed to save him are killing him.”

Her mother blew out a full breath of air in one long weary sigh. “Cancer’s killing him,” she corrected Alexis. “We were out of options. We talked it over. He wanted to go with the experimental treatments.”

“Why didn’t someone ask
me
? Aren’t I a part of this family? Don’t I get a say?”

“What would you have said, Ally?”

She was struck dumb, because she knew she would have made the same choice they had. Every day of life Adam had earned from the experimental drugs had been a gift to all of them. Every single day.

Her mother said, “We didn’t keep it from you on purpose. I—I guess I thought you’d figure it out.”

“Figure it out?” Alexis sat up, unable to believe her mother was saying such a stupid thing to her. “How should I have gone about figuring out that my brother was dying right in front of me?”

Eleanor pressed her thumb and forefinger against her eyes, rocked back and forth. “Maybe I could have sat you down for a heart-to-heart talk. But frankly, your optimism, your irrepressible sense of hope, your projects, your energy were infectious. It kept us all going.”

“Don’t you mean my stupidity?”

Eleanor eased off the sofa. “Can I show you something?” She went over to the bookcase, pulled out a book and returned. “Do you know what this is?”

No answer.

“It’s your and Adam’s baby book. I want to tell you some things, and I want you to listen, not just with your ears, but with your heart.”