Chapter 12
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She had leukemia; shed known it since last summer.The moment she told me, the blood drained from my fad a sheaf of dizzying images fluttered through my mind. It was as though in that brief moment, time had suddenly stopped and I uood everything that had happened between us. I uood why shed wanted me to do the play: I uood why, after wed performed that first night, Hegbert had whispered to her with tears in his eyes, calling her his angel; I uood why he looked so tired all the time and why he fretted that I kept ing by the house. Everything became absolutely clear.
Why she wanted Christmas at the orphao be so special . . .
Why she didnt think shed go to college . . .
Why shed given me her Bible . . .
It all made perfect sense, and at the same time, nothing seemed to make any se all.
Jamie Sullivan had leukemia . . .
Jamie, sweet Jamie, was dying . . .
My Jamie. . .
"No, no," I whispered to her, "there has to be some mistake. . . .”
But there wasnt, and wheold me again, my world went blank. My head started to spin, and I g thtly to keep from losing my balance. Oreet I saw a man and a woman, walking toward us, heads bent and their hands on their hats to keep them from blowing away. A dog trotted across the road and stopped to smell some bushes. A neighbor across the way was standing on a stepladder, taking down his Christmas lights. Normal ses from everyday life, things I would never have noticed before, suddenly making me feel angry. I closed my eyes, wanting the whole thing to go away.
"Im so sorry, Landon," she kept saying over and over. It was I who should have been saying it, however. I know that now, but my fusio me from saying anything.
Deep down, I k wouldnt go away. I held her again, not knowing what else to do, tears filling my eyes, trying and failing to be the rock I think she needed.
We cried together oreet for a long time, just a little way down the road from her house. We cried some more when Hegbert opehe door and saw our faces, knowing immediately that their secret was out. We cried wheold my mother later that afternoon, and my mother held us both to her bosom and sobbed so loudly that both the maid and the cook wao call the doctor because they thought something had happeo my father. On Sunday Hegbert made the annouo his gregation, his face a mask of anguish and fear, and he had to be helped back to his seat before hed even finished.
Everyone in the gregation stared in silent disbelief at the words theyd just heard, as if they were waiting for a punch lio some horrible joke that none of them could believe had been told. Then all at ohe wailing began.
We sat with Hegbert the day she told me, and Jamie patiently answered my questions. She didnt know how long she had left, she told me. No, there wasnt anything the doctors could do. It was a rare form of the disease, theyd said, ohat didnt respond to available treatment. Yes, when the school year had started, shed felt fi wasnt until the last few weeks that shed started to feel its effects.
"Thats how it progresses," she said. "You feel fine, and then, when your body t keep fighting, you dont.”
Stifling my tears, I couldnt help but think about the play.
"But all those rehearsals . . . those long days . . . maybe you shouldnt have-”
"Maybe," she said, reag for my hand and cutting me off. "Doing the play was the thing that kept me healthy for so long.”
Later, she told me that seven months had passed since shed been diaghe doctors had given her a year, maybe less.
These days it might have been different. These days they could have treated her.
These days Jamie would probably live. But this was happening forty years ago, and I knew what that meant.
Only a miracle could save her.
"Why didnt you tell me?”
This was the one question I hadn<samp></samp>t asked her, the ohat Id been thinking about. I hadnt slept that night, and my eyes were still swollen. Id gone from shock to denial to sado anger and back again, all night long, wishing it werent so and praying that the whole thing had been some terrible nightmare.
We were in her living room the following day, the day that Hegbert had made the annouo the gregation. It was January 10, 1959.
Jamie didnt look as depressed as I thought she would. But then again, shed been living with this for seven months already. She and Hegbert had been the only oo know, aher of them had trusted even me. I was hurt by that and frighte the same time.
"Id made a decision," she explaio me, "that it would be better if I told no one, and I asked my father to do the same. You saw how people were after the services today. No one would even look me in the eye. If you had only a few months left to live, is that what you would want?”
I knew she was right, but it didnt make it any easier. I was, for the first time in my life, pletely and utterly at a loss.
Id never had anyone close to me die before, at least not ahat I could remember. My grandmother had died when I was three, and I dont remember a sihing about her or the services that had followed or even the few years after her passing. Id heard stories, of course, from both my father and my grandfather, but to me thats exactly what they were. It was the same as hearing stories I might otherwise read in a neer about some woman I never really khough my father would take me with him whe flowers on her grave, I never had any feelings associated with her. I felt only for the people shed left behind.
No one in my family or my circle of friends had ever had to front something like this. Jamie was seventeen, a child on the verge of womanhood, dying and still very much alive at the same time. I was afraid, more afraid than Id ever been, not only for her, but for me as well. I lived in fear of doing something wrong, of doing something that would offend her. Was it okay to ever get angry in her presence? Was it okay to talk about the future anymore? My fear made talking to her difficult, though she atient with me.
My fear, however, made me realize something else, something that made it all worse. I realized Id never even known her when shed beehy. I had started to spend time with her only a few months earlier, and Id been in love with her for oeen days. Those eighteen days seemed like my entire life, but now, when I looked at her, all I could do was wonder how many more days there would be.
On Monday she didnt show up for school, and I somehow khat shed never walk the hallways again. Id never see her reading the Bible off by herself at lunch, Id never see her brown cardigan moving through the crowd as she made her way to her class. She was finished with school forever; she would never receive her diploma.
I couldnt trate on anything while I sat in class that first day back, listening as teacher after teacher told us what most of us had already heard.
The responses were similar to those in chur Sunday. Girls cried, boys hung their heads, people told stories about her as if she were already gone. What we do? they wondered aloud, and people looked to me for answers.
"I dont know," was all I could say.
I left school early ao Jamies, blowing off my classes after lunch.
When I k the door, Jamie answered it the way she always did, cheerfully and without, it seemed, a care in the world.
"Hello, Landon," she said, "this is a surprise.”
When she leaned in to kiss me, I kissed her back, though the whole thing made me want to cry.
"My father isnt hht now, but if youd like to sit on the porch, we .”
"How you do this?" I asked suddenly. "How you pretend that nothing is wrong?”
"Im not pretending that nothing is wrong, Lando me get my coat and well sit outside and talk, okay?”
She smiled at me, waiting for an answer, and I finally nodded, my lips pressed together. She reached out and patted my arm.
"Ill be right back," she said.
I walked to the chair and sat down, Jamie emerging a moment later. She wore a heavy coat, gloves, and a hat to keep her warm. The er had passed, and the day wasnt nearly as cold as it had beehe weekend. Still, though, it was too much for her.
"You werent in school today," I said.
She looked down and nodded. "I know.”
"Are you ever going to e back?" Even though I already khe answer, I o hear it from her.
"No," she said softly, "Im not.”
"Why? Are you that sick already?" I started to tear up, and she reached out and took my hand.
"No. Today I feel pretty good, actually. Its just that I want to be home in the ms, before my father has to go to the office. I want to spend as much time with him as I .”
Before I die,she meant to say but didnt. I felt ed and couldnt respond.
"When the doctors first told us," she went on, "they said that I should try to lead as normal a life as possible for as long as I could. They said it would help me keep my strength up.”
"Theres nothing normal about this," I said bitterly.
"I know.”
"Arent yhtened?”
Somehow I expected her to sayno, to say something wise like a grown-up would, or to explain to me that resume to uand the Lords plan.
She looked away. "Yes," she finally said, "Im frightened all the time.”
"Then why dont you act like it?”
"I do. I just do it in private.”
"Because you dont trust me?”
"No," she said, "because I know youre frighteoo.”
I began to pray for a miracle.
They supposedly happen all the time, and Id read about them in neers.
People regaining use of their limbs after being told theyd never walk again, or somehow surviving a terrible act when all hope was lost. Every now and then a traveling preachers tent would be set up outside of Beaufort, and people would go there to watch as people were healed. Id been to a couple, and though I assumed that most of the healing was no more than a slick magic show, since I never reized the people who were healed, there were occasionally things that even I couldnt explain. Old man Sweehe baker here in town, had been in the Great War fighting with an artillery unit behind the trenches, and months of shelling the enemy had left him deaf in one ear. It wasnt an act-he really couldnt hear a sihing, and thered been times when we were kids that wed been able to sneak off with a amon roll because of it. But the preacher started praying feverishly and finally laid his hand upon the side of Sweeneys head. Sweeney screamed out loud, making people practically jump out of their seats. He had a terrified look on his face, as if the guy had touched him with a white-hot poker, but then he shook his head and looked around, uttering the words "I hear again." Even he couldnt believe it. "The Lord," the preacher had said as Sweeney made his way back to his seat, " do anything. The Lord listens to our prayers.”
So that night I opehe Bible that Jamie had given me for Christmas and began to read. Now, Id heard all about Bible in Sunday school or at church, but to be frank, I just remembered the highlights-the Lord sending the seven plagues so the Israelites could leave Egypt, Jonah being swallowed by a whale, Jesus walking across the water or raising Lazarus from the dead. There were gies, too. I khat practically every chapter of the Bible has the Lord doing something spectacular, but I hadnt learhem all. As Christians we leaned heavily on teags of the estament, and I didnt know the first things about books like Joshua or Ruth or Joel. The first night I read through Genesis, the sed night I read through Exodus. Leviticus was , followed by Numbers and theeronomy. The going got a little slow duriain parts, especially as all the laws were being explained, yet I couldnt put it down. It was a pulsion that I didnt fully uand.
It was late one night, and I was tired by the time I eventually reached Psalms, but somehow I khis was what I was looking for. Everyone has heard the Twenty-third Psalm, which starts, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want," but I wao read the others, sinone of them were supposed to be more important thahers. After an hour I came across an underlined se that I assumed Jamie had noted because it meant something to her. This is what it said:I cry to you, my Lord, my rock! Do not be deaf to me, for if you are silent, I shall go down to the pit like the rest. Hear my voice raised iion as I cry to you for help, as I raise my hands, my Lord, toward your holy of holies.
I closed the Bible with tears in my eyes, uo finish the psalm.
Somehow I knew shed underli for me.
"I dont know what to do," I said numbly, staring into the dim light of my bedroom lamp. My mom and I were sitting on my bed. It was ing up on the end of January, the most difficult month of my life, and I khat in February things would only get worse.
"I know this is hard for you," she murmured, "but theres nothing you do.”
"I dont mean about Jamie being sick-I know theres nothing I do about that.
I mean about Jamie and me.”
My mother looked at me sympathetically. She was worried about Jamie, but she was also worried about me. I went on.
"Its hard for me to talk to her. All I do when I look at her is think about the day when I wont be able to. So I spend all my time at school thinking about her, wishing I could see her right then, but when I get to her house, I dont know what to say.”
"I dont know if theres anything you say to make her feel better.”
"Then what <s>?</s>should I do?”
She looked at me sadly and put her arm around my shoulder. "You really love her, dont you," she said.
"With all my heart.”
She looked as sad as Id ever seen her. "Whats your heart telling you to do?”
"I dont know.”
"Maybe," she said gently, "youre trying too hard to hear it.”
The day I was better with Jamie, though not much. Before Id arrived, Id told myself that I wouldnt say anything that might get her down-that Id try to talk to her like I had before-and thats exactly how it went. I sat myself on her coud told her about some of my friends and what they were doing; I caught her up on the success of the basketball team. I told her that I still hadnt heard from UNC, but that I was hopeful Id know within the few weeks. I told her I was looking forward to graduation. I spoke as though shed be back to school the following week, and I knew I sounded nervous the eime. Jamie smiled and the appropriate times, asking questions every now and then. But I thih knew by the time I fialking that it was the last time I would do it. It didnt feel right to either of us.
My heart was telling me exactly the same thing.
I turo the Bible again, in the hope that it would guide me.
"How are you feeling?" I asked a couple of days later.
By now Jamie had lost more weight. Her skin was beginning to take on a slightly grayish tint, and the bones in her hands were starting to show through her skin.
Again I saw bruises. We were inside her house in the living room; the cold was too much for her to bear.
Despite all this, she still looked beautiful.
"Im doing okay," she said, smiling valiantly. "The doctors have given me some medie for the pain, and it seems to help a little.”
Id been ing by every day. Time seemed to be slowing down and speeding up at exactly the same time.
" I get anything for you?”
"No, thank you, Im doing fine.”
I looked around the room, then back at her.
"Ive been reading the Bible," I finally said.
"You have?" Her face lit up, reminding me of the angel Id seen in the play. I couldnt believe that only six weeks had gone by.
"I wanted you to know.”<q>9９ｌｉb?</q>
"Im glad you told me.”
"I read the book of Job last night," I said, "where God stuck it to Job to test his faith.”
She smiled and reached out to pat my arm, her hand soft on my skin. It felt nice. "You should read something else. Thats not about God in one of his better moments.”
"Why would he have dohat to him?”
"I dont know," she said.
"Do you ever feel like Job?”
She smiled, a little twinkle in her eyes. "Sometimes.”
"But you havent lost your faith?”
"No." I knew she hadnt, but I think I was losing mine.
"Is it because you think you might get better?”
"No," she said, "its because its the only thing I have left.”
After that, we started reading the Bible together. It somehow seemed like the right thing to do, but my heart was heless tellihat there still might be something more.
At night I lay awake, w about it.
Reading the Bible gave us something to focus on, and all of a suddehing started to get better between us, maybe because I wasnt as worried about doing something to offend her. What could be mht than reading the Bible? Though I didnt know nearly as much as she did about it, I think she appreciated the gesture, and occasionally when we read, shed put her hand on my knee and simply listen as my voice filled the room.
Other times Id be sitting beside her on the couch, looking at the Bible and watg Jamie out of the er of my eye at the same time, and wed e across a passage or a psalm, maybe even a proverb, and Id ask her what she thought about it. She always had an answer, and Id nod, thinking about it.
Sometimes she asked me what I thought, and I did my best, too, though there were moments when I was bluffing and I was sure that she could tell. "Is that what it really means to you?" shed ask, and Id rub my and think about it before trying again. Sometimes, though, it was her fault when I couldnt trate, what with that hand on my knee and all.
One Friday night I brought her over for di my house. My mom joined us for the main course, thehe table and sat in the den so that we could be alone.
It was here, sitting with Jamie, and I knew she felt the same way. She hadnt been leaving her house much, and this was a good ge for her.
Since shed told me about her illness, Jamie had stopped wearing her hair in a bun, and it was still as stunning as it had been the first time Id seen her wear it down. She was looking at the a et-my mom had one of those ets with the lights inside-when I reached across the table and took her hand.
"Thank you for ing over tonight," I said.
She turned her attention bae. "Thanks for inviting me.”
I paused. "Hows your father holding up?”
Jamie sighed. "Not too well. I worry about him a lot.”
"He loves you dearly, you know.”
"I know.”
"So do I," I said, and when I did, she looked away. Hearing me say this seemed thten her again.
"Will you keep ing over to my house?" she asked. "Even later, you know, when . . . ?”
I squeezed her hand, not hard, but enough to let her know that I meant what I said.
"As long as you wao e, Ill be there.”
"We dont have to read the Bible anymore, if you dont want to.”
"Yes," I said softly, "I think we do.”
She smiled. "Youre a good friend, Landon. I dont know what Id do without you.”
She squeezed my hand, returning the favor. Sitting across from me, she looked radiant.
"I love you, Jamie," I said again, but this time she wasnt frightened. Instead our eyes met across the table, and I watched as hers began to shine. She sighed and looked away, running her hand through her hair, then turo me again. I kissed her hand, smiling iurn.
"I love you, too," she finally whispered.
They were the words Id been praying to hear.
I dont know if Jamie told Hegbert about her feelings for me, but I somehow doubted it because his routine hadnt ged at all. It was his habit to leave the house whenever I came over after school, and this tinued. I would knock at the door and listen as Hegbert explaio Jamie that he would be leaving and would be ba a couple of hours. "Okay, Daddy," I always heard her say, then I would wait fbert to open the door. Once he let me in, he would open the hallway closet and silently pull out his coat and hat, buttoning the coat up all the way before he left the house. His coat was old-fashioned, blad long, like a trench coat without zippers, the kind that was fashionable earlier this tury. He seldom spoke directly to me, even after he learhat Jamie and Id begun to read the Bible together.
Though he still didnt like me in the house if he wasnt there, he heless allowed me to e in. I khat part of the reason had to do with the fact that he didnt want Jamie to get chilled by sitting on the porch, and the only other alternative was to wait at the house while I was there. But I think Hegbert needed some time alooo, and that was the real reason for the ge. He didnt talk to me about the rules of the house-I could see them in his eyes the first time hed said I could stay. I was allowed to stay in the living room, that was all.
Jamie was still moving around fairly well, though the winter was miserable. A cold streak blew in during the last part of January that lasted nine days, followed by three straight days of dreng rain. Jamie had no i in leaving the house in such weather, though after Hegbert had gone she and I might stand on the porch for just a couple of mio breathe the fresh sea air.
Whenever we did this, I found myself w about her.
While we read the Bible, people would knock at the door at least three times every day. People were always dropping by, some with food, others just to say hello. Even Erid Margaret came over, and though Jamie wasnt allowed to let them in, she did so anyway, a in the living room and talked a little, both of them uo meet her gaze.
They were both nervous, and it took them a couple of mio finally get to the point. Eric had e to apologize, he said, and he said that he couldnt imagine why all this had happeo her of all people. He also had something for her, a an envelope oable, his hand shaking. His voice was choked up as he spoke, the words ringing with the most heartfelt emotion Id ever heard him express.
"Youve got the biggest heart of anyone Ive ever met," he said to Jamie, his voice crag, "and even though I took it franted and wasnt always o you, I wao let you know how I feel. Ive never been more sorry about anything in my life." He paused and swiped at the er of his eye. "Youre the best person Ill probably ever know.”
As he was fighting back his tears and sniffling, Margaret had already given in to hers and sat weeping on the couch, uo speak. When Eric had finished, Jamie wiped tears from her cheeks, stood slowly, and smiled, opening her arms in what could only be called a gesture of fiveness. Erit to her willingly, finally beginning to cry openly as she gently caressed his hair, murmuring to him. The two of them held each other for a long time as Eric sobbed until he was too exhausted to cry anymore.
Then it was Margarets turn, and she and Jamie did exactly the same thing.
When Erid Margaret were ready to leave, they pulled on their jackets and looked at Jamie one more time, as if to remember her forever. I had no doubt that they wao think of her as she looked right then. In my mind she was beautiful, and I know they felt the same way.
"Hang in there," Eric said on his way out the door. "Ill be praying for you, and so will everybody else." Then he looked toward me, reached out, and patted me on the shoulder. "You too," he said, his eyes red. As I watched them leave, I knew Id never been prouder of either of them.
Later, when we opehe envelope, we learned what Eric had done. Without telling us, hed collected over $400 dollars for the orphanage.
I waited for the miracle.
It hadnt e.
In early February the pills Jamie was taking were increased to help offset the heightened pain she was feeling. The higher dosages made her dizzy, and twice she fell when walking to the bathroom, oime hitting her head against the washbasin. Afterward she insisted that the doctors cut back her medie, and with reluce they did. Though she was able to walk normally, the pain she was feeling intensified, and sometimes even raising her arm made her grimace.
Leukemia is a disease of the blood, ohat runs its course throughout a persons body. There was literally no escape from it as long as her heart kept beating.
But the disease weakehe rest of her body as well, preying on her muscles, making even simple things more difficult. In the first week of February she lost six pounds, and soon walking became difficult for her, unless it was only for a short distahat was, of course, if she could put up with the pain, whi time she couldnt. She went back to the pills again, accepting the dizziness in place of pain.
Still we read the Bible.
Whenever I visited Jamie, I would find her on the couch with the Bible already opened, and I khat eventually her father would have to carry her there if we wao tihough she never said anything to me about it, we both kly what it meant.
I was running out of time, and my heart was still tellihat there was something more I could do.
On February 14, Valentines Day, Jamie picked out a passage from thians that meant a lot to her. She told me that if shed ever <bdo></bdo>had the ce, it was the passage shed wanted read at her wedding. This is what it said:Love is alatient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or ceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offense and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other peoples sins, but delights iruth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever es.
Jamie was the truest essence of that very description.
Three days later, wheemperature slightly warmed, I showed her something wonderful, something I doubted shed ever seen before, something I knew she would want to see.
Eastern North Carolina is a beautiful and special part of the try, blessed with temperate weather and, for the most part, wonderful geography. Nowhere is this more evident than Bogue Banks, an island right off the coast, he place we grew up. Twenty-four miles long and nearly a mile wide, this island is a fluke of nature, running from east to west, hugging the coastline a half mile offshore. Those who live there witness spectacular sunrises and sus every day of the year, both taking place over the expanse of the mighty Atlantic O.
Jamie was bundled up heavily, standing beside me on the edge of the Iron Steamer Pier as this perfect southern evening desded. I pointed off into the distand told her to wait. I could see our breaths, two of hers to every one of mine.
I had to support Jamie as we stood there-she seemed lighter than the leaves of a tree that had fallen in autumn-but I khat it would be worth it.
In time the glowing, cratered moon began its seeming rise from the sea, casting a prism of light across the slowly darkening water, splitting itself into a thousand different parts, each more beautiful than the last. At exactly the same moment, the sun was meeting the horizon in the opposite dire, turning the sky red and e and yellow, as if heaven above had suddenly opes gates a all its beauty escape its holy fihe o turned golden silver as the shifting colors reflected off it, waters rippling and sparkling with the ging light, the vision glorious, almost like the beginning of time. The sun tio lower itself, casting its glow as far as the eye could see, before finally, slowly, vanishih the waves. The moon tis slow drift upward, shimmering as it turned a thousand different shades of yelloaler than the last, before finally being the color of the stars.
Jamie watched all this in silence, my arm tight around her, her breathing shallow and weak. As the sky was finally turning to blad the first twinkling lights began to appear in the distant southern sky, I took her in my arms. I gently kissed both her cheeks and then, finally, her lips.
"That," I said, "is exactly how I feel about you.”
A week later Jamies trips to the hospital became mular, although she insisted that she didnt want to stay there ht. "I want to die at home," was all she said. Sihe doctors couldnt do anything for her, they had no choice but to accept her wishes.
At least for the time being.
"Ive been thinking about the past few months," I said to her.
We were sitting in the living room, holding hands as we read the Bible. Her face was growing thinner, her hair beginning to lose its luster. Yet her eyes, those soft blue eyes, were as lovely as ever.
I dont think Id ever seen someone as beautiful.
"Ive been thinking about them, too," she said.
"You knew, from the first day in Miss Garbers class that I was going to do the play, didnt you. When you looked at me and smiled?”
She nodded. "Yes.”
"And when I asked you to the homeing dance, you made me promise that I wouldnt fall in love, but you khat I was going to, didnt you?”
She had a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Yes.”
"How did you know?”
She shrugged without answering, a together for a few moments, watg the rain as it blew against the windows.
"When I told you that I prayed for you," she finally said to me, "what did you think I was talking about?”
The progression of her disease tinued, speeding up as March approached. She was taking more medie for pain, and she felt too sick to her stomach to keep down much food. She was growing weak, and it looked like shed have to go to the hospital to stay, despite her wishes.
It was my mother and father who ged all that.
My father had driven home from Washington, hurriedly leaving although gress was still in session. Apparently my mother had called him and told him that if he didnt e home immediately, he might as well stay in Washington forever.
When my mother told him what was happening, my father said that Hegbert would never accept his help, that the wounds were too deep, that it was too late to do anything.
"This isnt about your family, or even about Reverend Sullivan, or anything that happened in the past," she said to him, refusing to accept his answer. "This is about our son, who happens to be in love with a little girl who needs our help.
And yoing to find a way to help her.”
I dont know what my father said to Hegbert or romises he had to make or how much the whole thiually cost. All I know is that Jamie was soon surrounded by expensive equipment, was supplied with all the medie she needed, and was watched by two full-time nurses while a doctor peeked in on her several times a day.
Jamie would be able to stay at home.
That night I cried on my fathers shoulder for the first time in my life.
"Do you have as?" I asked her. She was in her bed uhe covers, a tube in her arm feedihe medication she needed. Her face ale, her body feather light. She could barely walk, and when she did, she now had to be supported by someone else.
"We all have regrets, Landon," she said, "but Ive led a wonderful life.”
"How you say that?" I cried out, uo hide my anguish. "With all thats happening to you?”
She squeezed my hand, her grip weak, smiling tenderly at me.
"This," she admitted as she looked around her room, "could be better.”
Despite my tears I laughed, then immediately felt guilty for doing so. I was supposed to be supp her, not the other way around. Jamie went on.
"But other than that, Ive been happy, Landon. I really have. Ive had a special father who taught me about God. I look bad know that I couldnt have tried to help other people any more than I did." She paused a my eyes.
"Ive even fallen in love and had someone love me back.”
I kissed her hand when she said it, then held it against my cheek.
"Its not fair," I said.
She didnt answer.
"Are you still afraid?" I asked.
"Yes.”
"Im afraid, too," I said.
"I know. And Im sorry.”
"What I do?" I asked desperately. "I dont know what Im supposed to do anymore.”
"Will you read to me?”
I hough I didnt know whether Id be able to make it through the page without breaking down.
Please, Lord, tell me what to do!
"Mom?" I said later that night.
"Yes?”
We were sitting on the sofa in the den, the fire blazing before us. Earlier in the day Jamie had fallen asleep while I read to her, and kn<var>藏书网</var>owing she needed her rest, I slipped out of her room. But before I did, I kissed her gently on the cheek. It was harmless, but Hegbert had walked in as Id done so, and I had seen the flig emotions in his eyes. He looked at me, knowing that I loved his daughter but also knowing that Id broken one of the rules of his house, even an unspoken one. Had she been well, I know he would never have allowed me baside. As it was, I showed myself to the door.
I couldnt blame him, not really. I found that spending time with Jamie sapped me of the energy to feel hurt by his demeanor. If Jamie had taught me anything over these last few months, shed showhat as-not thoughts or iiohe way to judge others, and I khat Hegbert would allow me in the following day. I was thinking about all this as I sat o my mother on the sofa.
"Do you think we have a purpose in life?" I asked.
It was the first time Id asked her such a question, but these were unusual times.
"Im not sure I uand what youre asking," she said, frowning.
"I mean-how do you know what youre supposed to do?”
"Are you asking me about spending time with Jamie?”
I hough I was still fused. "Sort of. I know Im doing the right thing, but . . . somethings missing. I spend time with her aalk ahe Bible, but . . .”
I paused, and my mother finished my thought for me.
"You think you should be doing more?”
I nodded.
"I dont know that theres anything more you do, sweetheart," she said gently.
"Then why do I feel the way I do?”
She moved a little closer on the sofa, ached the flames together.
"I think its because youre frightened and you feel helpless, and even though youre trying, things tio get harder and harder-for the both of you. And the more you try, the more hopeless things seem.”
"Is there any way to stop feeling this way?”
She put her arm around me and pulled me closer. "No," she said softly, "there isnt.”
The day Jamie could out of bed. Because she was too weak now to walk even with support, we read the Bible in her room.
She fell asleep within minutes.
Another week went by and Jamie grew steadily worse, her body weakening.
Bedridden, she looked smaller, almost like a little girl again.
"Jamie," I pleaded, "what I do for you?”
Jamie, my sweet Jamie, was sleeping for hours at a time now, even as I talked to her. She didnt move at the sound of my voice; her breaths were rapid and weak.
I sat beside the bed and watched her for a long time, thinking how much I loved her. I held her hand close to my heart, feeling the boniness of her fingers.
Part of me wao cry right then, but instead I laid her hand back down and turo face the window.
Why, I wondered, had my world suddenly unraveled as it had? Why had all this happeo someone like her? I wondered if there was a greater lesson in what was happening. Was it all, as Jamie would say, simply part of the Lords plan? Did the Lord wao fall in love with her? Or was that something of my own volition? The longer Jamie slept, the more I felt her presence beside me, yet the ao these questions were no clearer than they had been before.
Outside, the last of the m rain had passed. It had been a gloomy day, but now the late afternoon sunlight was breaking through the clouds. In the cool spring air I saw the first signs of nature ing back to life. The trees outside were budding, the leaves waiting for just the right moment to uncoil and open themselves to yet another summer season.
On the nightstand by her bed I saw the colle of items that Jamie held close to her heart. There were photographs of her father, holding Jamie as a young child and standing outside of school on her first day of kindergarten; there was a colle of cards that children of the orphanage had sent. Sighing, I reached for them and opehe card on top of the stack.
Written in crayon, it said simply:Please get better soon. I miss you.
It was signed by Lydia, the girl whod fallen asleep in Jamies lap on Christmas Eve. The sed card expressed the same ses, but what really caught my eye was the picture that the child, Roger, had drawn. Hed drawn a bird, s above a rainbow.
Choking up, I closed the card. I couldo look any further, and as I put the stack back where it had been before, I noticed a neer clipping, o her water glass. I reached for the article and saw that it was about the play, published in the Sunday paper the day after wed finished. In the photograph above the text, I saw the only picture that had ever been taken of the two of us.
It seemed so long ago. I brought the artiearer to my face. As I stared, I remembered the way I felt when I had seehat night. Peering closely at her image, I searched for any sign that she suspected what would e to pass. I knew she did, but her expression that night betrayed none of it. Instead, I saw only a radiant happiness. In time I sighed a aside the clipping.
The Bible still lay open where Id left off, and although Jamie was sleeping, I felt the o read some more. Eventually I came across another passage. This is what it said:I am not anding you, but I want to test the siy of your love by paring it to the earness of others.
The words made me choke up again, and just as I was about to cry, the meaning of it suddenly became clear.
God had finally answered me, and I suddenly knew what I had to do.
I couldnt have made it to the chury faster, even if Id had a car. I took every shortcut I could, rag through peoples backyards, jumping fences, and in one case cutting through someones garage and out the side door. Everything Id learned about the town growing up came into play, and although I was never a particularly good athlete, on this day I was unstoppable, propelled by what I had to do.
I didnt care how I looked when I arrived because I suspected Hegbert wouldnt care, either. When I finally ehe church, I slowed to a walk, trying to catch my breath as I made my way to the back, toward his office.
Hegbert looked up when he saw me, and I knew why he was here. He didnt invite me in, he simply looked away, back toward the window again. At home hed been dealing with her illness by ing the house almost obsessively. Here, though, papers were scattered across the desk, and books were strewn about the room as if no one had straightened up for weeks. I khat this was the place he thought about Jamie; this was the place where Hegbert came to cry.
"Reverend?" I said softly.
He didnt answer, but I went in anyway.
"Id like to be alone," he croaked.
He looked old aen, as weary as the Israelites described in Davids Psalms. His face was drawn, and his hair had grown thinner since December. Even more than I, perhaps, he had to keep up his spirits around Jamie, and the stress of doing so was wearing him down.
I marched right up to his desk, and he gla me before turning back to the window.
"Please," he said to me. His tone was defeated, as though he didnt have the strength to front even me.
"Id like to talk to you," I said firmly. "I wouldnt ask unless it was very important.”
Hegbert sighed, and I sat in the chair I had sat in before, when Id asked him if he would let me take Jamie out for New Years Eve.
He listened as I told him what was on my mind.
When I was finished, Hegbert turo me. I dont know what he was thinking, but thankfully, he didnt say no. Instead he wiped his eyes with his fingers and turoward the window.
Even he, I think, was too shocked to speak.
Again I ran, again I didnt tire, my purpose givihe strength I o go on. When I reached Jamies house, I rushed in the door without knog, and the nurse whod been in her bedroom came out to see what had caused the racket.
Before she could speak, I did.
"Is she awake?" I asked, euphorid terrified at the same time.
"Yes," the nurse said cautiously. "When she woke up, she wondered where you were.”
I apologized for my disheveled appearand thanked her, then asked if she wouldnt mind leaving us alone. I walked into Jamies room, partially closing the door behind me. She ale, so very pale, but her smile let me know she was still fighting.
"Hello, Landon," she said, her voice faint, "thank you for ing back.”
I pulled up a chair and sat o her, taking her hand in mine. Seeing her lying there made something tighten deep in my stomach, making me almost want to cry.
"I was here earlier, but you were asleep," I said.
"I know . . . Im sorry. I just t seem to help it anymore.”
"Its okay, really.”
She lifted her hand slightly off the bed, and I kissed it, then leaned forward and kissed her cheek as well.
"Do you love me?" I asked her.
She smiled. "Yes.”
"Do you wao be happy?" As I asked her this, I felt my heart beginning to race.
"Of course I do.”
"Will you do something for me, then?”
She looked away, sadness crossing her features. "I dont know if I anymore," she said.
"But if you could, would you?”
I ot adequately describe the iy of what I was feeling at that moment.
Love, anger, sadness, hope, and fear, whirling together, sharpened by the nervousness I was feeling. Jamie looked at me curiously, and my breaths became shallower. Suddenly I khat Id never felt as strongly for another person as I did at that moment. As I returned her gaze, this simple realization made me wish for the millionth time that I could make all this go away. Had it been possible, I would have traded my life for hers. I wao tell her my thoughts, but the sound of her voice suddenly silehe emotions inside me.
"Yes," she finally said, her voice weak yet somehow still full of promise. "I would.”
Finally getting trol of myself, I kissed her again, then brought my hand to her face, gently running my fingers over her cheek. I marveled at the softness of her skin, the gentleness I saw in her eyes. Even now she erfect.
My throat began to tighten again, but as I said, I knew what I had to do. Since I had to accept that it was not within my power to cure her, what I wao do was give her something that shed always wanted.
It was what my heart had been tellio do all along.
Jamie, I uood then, had already givehe answer Id been searg for, the one my heart had o find. Shed told me the answer as wed sat outside Mr. Jenkinss office, the night wed asked him about doing the play.
I smiled softly, and she returned my affe with a slight squeeze of my hand, as if trusting me in what I was about to do. Enced, I leaned closer and took a deep breath. When I exhaled, these were the words that flowed with my breath.
"Will you marry me?”
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