Life and Other Complications Page 11

  Ben pulled out a deck of cards, and we all settled down on the ground with Natalie leaning back against a tree trunk.

  “Blind Man’s Bluff,” Ben said. “Aces high.”

  Caroline grabbed two bags of M&M’s from her pack. “Plain are 1000s. Peanut, 5000s.” She handed out the goods.

  Ben dealt us each one card, face down. On the count of three, we flipped our cards up against our foreheads. Bets were placed and then cards compared. High card wins.

  The game is fast. The poker chip equivalents are delicious. And we always laugh a lot. Because everybody looks funny with a card stuck to their forehead.

  When Natalie was looking better, we picked up our packs and continued our slow progress up the mountain.

  Luke had humored me and wore his heart rate monitor. Every couple of hours, he stretched out his arm so I could read the display on his watch. His heart rate didn’t even break a hundred.

  Luke might have been fine, but by four o’clock, Ben and Natalie were both fading. So, we decided to stop for the day.

  There aren’t any huts along this part of the trail, so we looked for a clearing. We ended up finding a spot that has obviously welcomed hikers before. And you can see why. The clearing is large enough for our tents, within earshot of a stream, and has an amazing view.

  As we all dropped our packs, Luke said, “Nat, can you stay with Ben and get him to rest?”

  Natalie nodded and went over to sink down beside Ben.

  “Kyle, can you give me a hand with the tents?” Luke said.

  “I can give you one,” Kyle said.

  Luke looked at me and Caroline. “We need to fill up the canteens and find some firewood.”

  “We’re on it,” I told him.

  “We are?” Caroline said.

  “Yes.” I handed her a canteen.

  When we were out of sight of the camp, Caroline said, “Natalie looks worse than Ben.”

  “I know. I’m hoping some rest will help.”

  Caroline gave me a doubtful look.

  “It can’t hurt,” I said.

  When we got back with full canteens and arms full of sticks, Ben and Natalie were looking slightly more human. The tents were up. And Luke was ready to build a fire.

  Our campsite was temporarily transformed into a mobile clinic when Ben got out his equipment, and Nat and I pulled out our portable pharmacies. By the time we were all medicated, dinner was cooked. And while we ate macaroni and cheese, the sky took out its paintbox. Soon the clouds were a deep inky blue against the fading light. I wanted to paint that sky; but I didn’t have the supplies. So, I had to just sit and enjoy it. The sight was beautiful enough to bring quiet to our circle—at least for a minute.

  Then Caroline was suggesting ghost stories. And Natalie discovered that the graham crackers were gone, and the marshmallows were squished. Kyle admitted to eating the graham crackers but vehemently denied squishing the marshmallows, at least on purpose. Luke convinced Natalie that the shape of the marshmallows doesn’t matter once they’re melted. But Caroline pointed out that without graham crackers, these were going to be the messiest s’mores in the history of s’mores.

  But eventually, things settled down, and we started telling stories. Adults may have accomplishments that speak to the fact that they were here. But a lot of the kids who pass through our Group never make it that far. So we remember them in stories. If we manage to get Ben to the top of this mountain, it will be another story to add to the collection.

  Tonight, Kyle told the story of Clark Manning, who was in a wheelchair because of osteosarcoma, but still managed to save his younger brother from drowning.

  And Natalie told the story of Victoria Pellum, who survived leukemia and went on to become a pediatric oncologist so she could help the next generation of kids fight cancer.

  Then Luke started the story of Alyssa Evans. It isn’t like the others. Because we always tell this one in parts. The first time we did it this way, it was to humor Natalie. Now I can’t imagine telling it any other way.

  “Alyssa Evans decided to write a novel,” Luke said.

  Natalie was the next in the circle. “It told the story of how she wished her life had turned out.”

  “But before she could finish it, she was too sick to write,” Ben said.

  “So her friends held a meeting, and they decided to finish the book,” Kyle said.

  Caroline said, “Each one wrote a chapter with a different way that the story could end.”

  “And then they each read Alyssa their chapter, and let her choose the ending,” I said.

  Dr. Klein has a copy of the finished book. But I don’t think any of us have ever read it. Because it isn’t the ending that matters. It’s what her friends did for her that we always remember.

  We all went to bed. I lay in my sleeping bag for what felt like hours before I finally gave up on trying to sleep. I put a flannel shirt on over my t-shirt, got my journal and a pen out of my bag, and crawled out of our tent. It took me a few minutes to resurrect the fire. Once it was crackling happily again, I sat down to write.

  I had already written the story of the day. And nothing new had happened since I went to bed. So, I was staring at the empty pages, wondering what I was going to write over the next few weeks, when I heard a stick break. I whipped around and then stopped. A shadow of a man was standing on the other side of the clearing.

  My heart was suddenly sprinting, and my hands were shaking. But I couldn’t move. Cold had dropped through my body, freezing me in place. His shadow was filling up my doorframe. Desperation was building up in my stomach.

  Rick closed the door and locked it. He started walking across the room toward me, and tears started sliding down my cheeks.

  The room was dark, except for the fairy princess nightlight that made monster shadows on the yellow walls. I knew what I was supposed to do, and what Rick would do to me if I didn’t. But I still hesitated. Because a small part of me died every time I had to do this.

  Slowly, I got out of bed and stood on the cold floor. With trembling fingers, I started unbuttoning my nightgown.

  Usually, Rick just watched and waited while I took off my clothes. But tonight, he did something he had never done before. He said, “Couldn’t sleep?”

  Only the voice wasn’t Rick’s.

  I felt like I was waking up from a dream. I wasn’t in that dark yellow room. I was in a forest. My flannel shirt was half unbuttoned. But the rest of my clothes were where they should be. And there was no sign of Rick. It was Luke standing in front of me in the dark.

  “Aly, you’re shaking,” Luke said. “Are you cold?”

  I was thinking words, but my mouth wouldn’t form them.

  Luke pulled off his sweatshirt. “Here. Put this on.”

  An ache overwhelmed my chest. He was giving me clothes.

  I pulled on the sweatshirt. It was warm from his body heat, and even smelled like him. Like sunshine and coffee and men’s body wash.

  “Thanks,” I managed.

  “Come on.” He motioned toward the fire.

  We sat down next to each other. I had managed to wipe the tears off my face as I pulled on the sweatshirt. But I was still shaky and probably pale. Hopefully, the low light would cover that.

  “Why are you up so late?” I asked him.

  Luke’s voice was amused. “It’s nine-thirty.”

  “The girls are out cold.”

  “Ben and Kyle too. They’re definitely not used to hiking.”

  It was just the two runners who were awake.

  You could tell him what happened, said a small voice in my head.

  We were alone. And it was unlikely that any of the others would wake up before morning. I had time. And I had Luke. I leaned over, and he put an arm around me. That helped. So did the warmth of the fire and the layers of clothes.

  But to tell him about the memory, I would have to tell him about Rick and the lie. I would have to tell him what I did.

  I could feel the
shame on my skin. Shame that won’t ever wash away.

  He would never be able to look at you the same way again, Rick’s voice whispered through my head. He would be too disgusted.

  And I could picture it, the same look of disgust I had seen on my mother’s face.

  Maybe I should have told Luke.

  But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  I just let him hold me and didn’t say a word.

  Thursday, June 16

  It took us two days, but Ben made it all the way to the top of the mountain.

  The weather held, and the sky was so clear that we could see all the way to the Atlantic Ocean.

  But what I kept looking at was Ben. He was beyond exhausted. But he had made it. He was standing on the top of his mountain. And we didn’t have to ask if it was worth the struggle. The satisfaction was all over his face.

  “I want to remember this moment,” I said to Luke.

  I was expecting him to say something, but Luke just nodded.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him.

  “Yeah,” he said. But his voice was wrong.

  I moved to where I could see him better and then almost wished I hadn’t. Luke’s face was gray, and his forehead was tight with pain.

  “What’s wrong?” I said.

  “I took Motrin earlier,” he said. “I guess it’s wearing off.”

  “Motrin for what?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Your head?”

  He nodded.

  I was struggling to stay calm. “Where does it hurt?”

  “The whole right side.”

  My throat was closing up. “Okay, sit down.”

  He started to, but as he moved, he lost his balance, and I had to catch his arm before he fell.

  “CAROLINE,” I screamed. My voice echoed off the mountains, surrounding me with that one panicked word.

  Caroline came scrambling across the rocky mountain top.

  “What happened?” she said. She saw Luke, and the color drained out of her face.

  “We have to get him off the mountain,” I said.

  “The train,” Caroline said.

  “We don’t have tickets.”

  “I’ll deal with that. Just get him over there.”

  And for the first time in my life, I watched Caroline flat-out run. I kept thinking that the train was going to be full. And had to keep reminding myself that if anyone could talk or bribe our way onto that train, it was Caroline. I had to stay focused. I had to get Luke to the station.

  The others had reached us. I watched the realization hit each of their faces.

  “Kyle, help me,” I said.

  He nodded and got his good arm around Luke.

  “We’re going to take him down on the train,” I told them.

  “We’ll get the packs,” Natalie said.

  I knew they shouldn’t. They aren’t strong enough. But I couldn’t tell them no. We all had to feel like we were doing something.

  “Take trips,” I said to Natalie. “And don’t carry much.”

  “We won’t,” she said.

  “I’m okay,” Luke said. “I can walk.”

  But as soon as we let go of him, his balance wavered again. After that he let us help him.

  We almost made it.

  I could see the train and Caroline standing beside it. And my attention was so focused on that image, that I wasn’t paying attention to where I put my feet. I took a step. A rock slid. And I went down.

  It should have been a hard fall, but I managed to get a hand out to catch myself. For a second, I was relieved. Then I felt the sharp pain in my palm and the wet warmth gushing between my fingers.

  I was bleeding.

  If any of my friends had an open cut and my blood got into it, I could infect them.

  Luke crouched down unsteadily beside me.

  And I had to say, “You can’t touch me.”

  My left hand was cradled against my chest, blood oozing out between my fingers. Blood that might as well be toxic venom.

  “Let me see,” Luke said.

  I wanted to tell him no. But I didn’t think he was going to move otherwise. And he had to move. He had to get off this mountain. So I slowly opened my fingers.

  The cut was deeper than I thought. And it was bleeding—a lot.

  Caroline came up to us then. “Come on,” she panted. “They’re holding the train.”

  She saw my hand and uttered a word that should have been smurfed.

  The first aid kit was all the way back with our packs on the other side of the summit. And I was bleeding everywhere. Luke tried to untie the jacket from around his waist, but his hands were shaking too badly.

  Caroline crouched down beside me. She used her jacket and Luke’s to wrap up my hand. She couldn’t use mine. It was covered in my blood.

  “They only had two seats left,” Caroline said as she carefully pulled me up to my feet. “The rest of us are on the next one.”

  Luke staggered, but made it to his feet. When he winced, I wanted to cry.

  “They’ll have an ambulance waiting at the bottom,” Caroline said. “We’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  I heard her words and I knew they were important. But all I could see was Luke’s face. His color was getting worse.

  Luke and I took the last two empty train seats. He slumped against the window. I sat down next to him.

  “I’m okay,” he said. Even though he knew I wouldn’t believe him.

  The blood had oozed out of our makeshift bandage and smeared onto my right hand. So now I couldn’t even touch him.

  The train started slowly chugging down the mountain and I started doing something I hadn’t done in a decade, I prayed.

  God and I are usually not on speaking terms. But today I was desperate enough to ask for help from anyone, even a deity I didn’t trust.

  Please don’t let Luke die today. I’ll do anything. Just heal what’s broken. Stop the bleeding. Let him live.

  The prayer felt hopeless. But it kept repeating through my mind, all the way down the mountain.

  The ambulance was waiting at the bottom, just like Caroline had promised. And the EMTs came to meet us with blue gloved hands. I had to give them both of our medical statuses. I saw them flinch when I said HIV. But the EMT with ‘Perkins’ on his uniform covered it well.

  They put Luke on the gurney and sat me next to Perkins in the back. He put on a second pair of gloves before peeling back the jackets. I felt him put pressure on the wound before he rebandaged my hand. I kept my eyes on Luke.

  The monitor next to Luke’s head was flashing out his pulse and blood pressure. They were both too high. I needed him to relax, to slow down the internal bleeding, to buy us more time. But telling him that his numbers were high would make him more stressed. We needed to talk about something else. I just didn’t know what. Luke and I have spent almost a decade talking. But today I couldn’t find words.

  When we pulled up to the Emergency Room, there were two teams waiting.

  “I’m coming with him,” I said as the back doors of the ambulance opened.

  “Not until they take care of your hand,” Perkins said.

  I wanted to scream and argue and throw something. But I knew he was right. They were never going to let me near another patient while I was actively bleeding. I had seen people physically removed from patient rooms before. I don’t know where those visitors ended up. But they weren’t with the people they loved.

  My best chance of being able to be with Luke was to let them stitch up my hand.

  I had to tell him goodbye.

  I leaned down and kissed Luke’s beautiful gray face. The lump in my throat was choking me. But I managed to say, “They have to sew up my hand. And then I’m coming right back to you. Just keep breathing until I get there.”

  Luke’s cold hand touched my cheek. “I will, Aly,” he said.

  And I had to fight back the tears.

  The paramedics unlocked his gurney and eased
him out of the ambulance.

  It was agony to watch them take him away. But I couldn’t look away.

  I was still staring at the doors Luke had disappeared through, when a voice said, “Miss.”

  I looked over at a man wearing a plastic trauma gown over his scrubs. He offered me a blue gloved hand down out of the ambulance. They had a wheelchair waiting for me. A chair I didn’t want or need. But the sooner I cooperated, the sooner they could get the blood contained and I could get back to Luke. So I sat in the chair and let them take me back into the maze.

  A nurse helped me change into a hospital gown. I knew I wouldn’t get my clothes back. Things saturated with HIV infected blood are destroyed. I try not to think about what that says about me.

  They had to call Massachusetts Department of Children and Families to get permission to treat me. Then they had to find the right person to complete the right form to give consent. I spent the time trying to figure out what was happening to Luke. He was eighteen and could give his own consent. That would speed things up at least. They would scan his head. I was sure of that. But I didn’t know what would happen next. They couldn’t fix what’s broken. So would they let him die? Or would they try to do things to slow down the bleeding? I didn’t know.

  The medical staff finally came back into my cubicle with consent to treat me. But they still had to set everything up. It felt like they were moving in slow motion as they laid out their instruments and prepped my hand.

  “Try to stay still,” the ER doc said.

  I tried. But it seemed to take forever for them to clean out the cut and numb my hand. I looked around, searching for anything to distract me, and made the mistake of looking up.

  The lights hit my eyes, and a memory came crashing down over me.

  I was seven years old, waking up on a bed, just like this one. The lights were so bright I tried to turn away, but my head couldn’t move. Or my arms. Something was holding me down.

  In my panic, my limbs flailed. Or at least they tried. But they couldn’t move. I was trapped.

  “It’s all right,” said a woman’s voice. Her face appeared over mine, her head blocking out the blinding lights.