Ray of Sunlight (17 page)

I set my alarm for “way too f’ing early in the a.m.” and tucked Pete’s phone under my pillow vowing that I was going to somehow get my own phone without Allen knowing about it.

T
HE
NEXT
morning, Pete and I were up and out before Allen even rolled over once. I got to the hospital so early, they were changing shifts. I had never met the 11–7 shift. They didn’t know what to make of me being there so early to visit. They didn’t serve breakfast till eight, so they didn’t want to wake CJ until then, since he was still asleep—even Barbara agreed—so I thought I’d work on the mural a little, down in the neuro ward. I’d check back up around eight. I did ask them to leave a note on his bedside table, though, letting him know I was there.

There wasn’t nearly as much left to do on the mural as I had remembered, and by 8:10, I was signing my name and putting the stuff away. By the time I got to CJ’s room, it was a little more decent an hour.

“Thanks for leaving the note” was the first thing he said. “I would have worried until I saw you, otherwise.”

“Oh, CJ.” I still felt so very bad about worrying him, and it came out in my voice. I made my way across the room, folded him into a huge hug, and kissed him soundly. “I’m not going to leave you, not ever. I love you.”

“For the rest of my life?” He chuckled hoarsely, resorting to that gallows humor he used when he was particularly aware of his radically shortened lifespan.

But I took hold of his chin, made sure he was looking at me, and answered seriously. “For the rest of mine.”

He smiled, and that was the first time that day that it truly reached his eyes. He leaned in and kissed me again. It started out really mild, but we both missed each other so much that it turned passionate in a hurry. I ran my hands up and down his back as I deepened the kiss. He responded in kind. I have no idea how far we would have let it go if Barbara hadn’t chosen that time to walk in.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, get a room.”

I smirked. “I thought we had one.”

She flicked the back of my head as she walked by, but I could tell she wasn’t really mad or even embarrassed. She had told me before that I was good for CJ, but she had no idea how wonderful he was for me.

Once she finished taking vitals and all the hospital shit, CJ scooted to the end of the bed.

“Hey, help me get to the makeup table.” He tried to stand and was so shaky, he truly needed help to get there.

“CJ.” I grabbed his arm and walked him over, only because if I didn’t, he would have fallen on the floor. He wasn’t going to wait to see if I would help or not. “If you can’t even get to the makeup table by yourself, how are you going to do a show?”

“I’ll get my sea legs. I just have to move around a bit. I’ll be fine in a while.”

I don’t know about fine, but he did get a little sturdier as he moved around, getting his costume on, donning his wig, and all the stuff he did to get ready for a show. I never ceased being amazed at him.

“Which ward today?” I never really knew which ward he’d play when. There seemed to be some method to his madness, or at least some prior communication of it. I never quite figured out what it was, but they always seemed to be expecting us and the kids were usually already in the playroom.

“Neuro,” he answered. We hadn’t played the Neurology Unit for a while now. “I’m told you finished the mural without me. I want to see it.”

“It’s not that different than the last time you saw it, CJ. It was almost done.”

“I still want to see it.” He just smiled, and with the face paint on it looked like the smile was going to split his face in two.

It was almost eleven by the time we got there. He was moving more and more slowly and everyone did their best not to notice. I saw that they’d hooked him up with an all-you-want morphine drip. I had picked up a fact or two here and there, and that’s usually what they did when the pain got so intense they couldn’t treat it any other way. He had a central line in his chest, and he could connect and disconnect to the IV at will. They also could use that to administer meds when he wasn’t hooked up to the IV, which he wasn’t most of the time, much to the nurses’ consternation. He tried to be so damned strong. But I could tell when he was in pain, and when he was moving so slowly that anyone could tell, I knew he must be in agony. But here he was, heading to a different ward to do a clown show. Sometimes it seemed to me to be such a silly reason to push yourself, but he insisted it was for selfish reasons, that he needed to feel needed while he was still here, and it lifted his spirits so he could get through the day. Sometimes I found myself kind of jealous.
I
wanted to be the “thing” that lifted his spirits. He had long ago said that I did that too, but he still needed the “clown thing.”

So, I helped him with the clown thing. He had pulled me into the show quite some time ago, giving me an artist smock and beret and an oversized, extremely colorful bag full of art supplies.

We stepped off the elevator and made our way to the playroom. When CJ was having this bad a day, I really regretted that the playroom was all the way at the end of the hall. By the time we got there, he had to stop outside to catch his breath and put on his game face. I knew the instant he was ready to go in. He straightened to his full height, put on his biggest smile, and took a breath.

As he entered the room, every head turned toward him.

“It’s showtime,” he announced, as he always did when he came into the room for a show. The whole room erupted in cheers.

B
EFORE
I
even realized it, it was my birthday. I had been looking forward to turning eighteen for a couple of years now, just so I could quit school. It amazed me how much my life plan had changed since knowing CJ.

I hadn’t expected the ’rents to do anything special, and I wasn’t disappointed there. Pete was a big surprise, though. He handed me a small box wrapped up in colorful paper, with a bow, no less. He had never given me a birthday present.

“What’s this?”

“Well, Russ….” He was being snide. “There’s a little tradition in this country. Maybe you’ve heard of it. When it’s a person’s birthday, especially a big one like, I don’t know, maybe eighteen or something, other people give them this thing called a pres-ent. Now I know that’s a big word, and you may not know the definition, but….”

“Oh just give me the damned thing.”

He handed it to me but continued to tease. “Well, you see, there’s this other tradition called ‘saying thank you….’”

I didn’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t what I got. I tore off the paper to reveal a box… with a picture of a cell phone on it. Surely he just reused the box from his cell phone… but it wasn’t a picture of his phone.

“Pete?”

“It’s just a little TracFone. It’s not much at all… not a smart phone or anything. It’ll make calls and that’s about it. And there’s a gift card in there for your first one hundred minutes, but after that you’ll have to buy your own.” I grinned. “But it’s a phone… and more importantly, Dad doesn’t know about it. And won’t. You deal directly with the company to apply more minutes. There won’t be a phone bill coming here or anything.”

I could’ve kissed him. This solved a lot. Now I wouldn’t be at Allen’s mercy. I’d always have a way to contact CJ.

“Besides,” Pete was saying, “God
knows
what you and CJ did on my phone the other night. Ewww!”

I made kissy faces at him and chased him down the hall. He did have a point, though. Now that I had my own phone, we might have to try that phone sex I’d been thinking of.

W
HEN
I
got to the hospital that evening after school, CJ’s room was dark. I peeked in but couldn’t see much, so I started to leave, thinking he was asleep.

“Come in, Russ,” CJ all but whispered.

Now that I looked closer, I could see that there was some light after all. Two candles sitting on a table, no doubt brought in especially for the occasion… whatever the occasion was. There was even a tablecloth on it.

As I neared the table, and consequently CJ, I noticed that there were two plates full of food. Once I sat down, I saw that the food was steak.

“Where did you get steak?” I was surprised. It certainly was not typical hospital fare.

“I asked Barb to get me some, and the cafeteria workers said they’d be happy to cook it, especially after they found out it was part of a birthday present for you. You’ve made quite an impression on them, Russ.”

I didn’t refute that out loud, but silently I figured the staff was doing a favor for CJ, not me. He was the one who seemed to hypnotize everyone he met.

“So,” I said, letting my voice get husky, “why the candles, CJ?”

“Well, you’re an adult now, so I thought we could have a grown-up, romantic dinner.” His voice fairly simmered. “And afterward….”

I chuckled. “Afterward, what, CJ? We’re in a hospital. What can we possibly do?” He opened his mouth to answer, but I added, “Besides, now you’re jailbait.”

He chuckled. “I’m emancipated. I don’t think that counts. Besides, I definitely won’t report you.”

“You won’t have to. Barbara will be in here with a butcher knife if she thinks my intentions are anything but pure.” She would too, and I didn’t want to think about which parts she might be tempted to cut off.

“She knows you, Russ. She
knows
your intentions aren’t pure.” Then he leaned around the table and kissed me. “And she knows mine aren’t either, and said she’d cover for me. No one will be checking in for at least an hour.”

I actually gulped. CJ could be wicked when he wanted to be.

“So, we have plenty of time to enjoy our steak,” he finished and then laughed hysterically.

W
E
DID
have a great meal, and romantic. I would never have thought I’d go in for that kind of thing, but CJ really loved it. The candles and the dark. And we really did have the room to ourselves. CJ kept trying to be seductive, running his bare foot up and down my leg. He even lifted his foot and tried to put it on my crotch, but he misjudged the pressure, and I shot up out of my seat. I caught the tablecloth somehow on a belt buckle or something and knocked one of the candles over. I thought I was going to burn the room down. CJ watched me struggle to put out the small fire, laughing the whole time, then just dumped his glass of grape juice on it.

After we got that all straightened out, I remembered something.

“Oh, I have a present for you.” I handed him a slip of paper.

“It’s
your
birthday. You’re not supposed to give me a gift.”

“Yeah, well, even so.” I gestured for him to look at the paper.

“Numbers?” He wrinkled his brow. “A phone number?”

I smiled and dug into my pocket to pull out the phone. I wiggled it and smiled even wider. “Pete got it for me. Happy birthday to me.”

He jumped up and came over to me and nearly knocked me over by jumping into my lap. “You got a phone!” His eyes lit up with a positively evil grin. “Now you can call me from home.”

“I have a limited number of minutes, CJ.”

“How many minutes, Russ?” He leered. “I bet we can come up with something to do with those minutes, don’t you think?” He snuggled in close.

“You know, CJ, every time you try to be seductive, it sort of comes out funny.”

“Well, I am a clown.”

“Yeah, well, you’re my clown.” I prompted him to stand, then stood myself and led him to the recliner. “Come on.” I sat down and pulled him back into my lap. “We might as well be a little more comfortable while we snuggle.”

He grinned again. “Snuggle, hell! I want to make out.”

I chuckled. “Let’s start with snuggling and work up to making out.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “As long as there’s making out involved in there somewhere.”

G
ETTING
A
phone was the first step in establishing my
independence. I still didn’t have wheels, and as long as I was dependent on public transportation, or even Pete, I wasn’t going to be able to get out from under Allen’s thumb altogether.

Fortunately, with all the drawing jobs, I had saved up enough to buy a somewhat decent car. I decided I was never going to be stuck at home like I was that day—not ever again—totally at the mercy of Allen. No way. I told CJ about it, and he was so thrilled that he wanted to go along. It was another week before he felt up to it, though.

Pete took me to the hospital the following Saturday. We had to sneak out of the house again, so we got there super early. We just talked, Pete and I, until CJ was awake and ready for visitors. It turned out to be one of his better days, and Pete suggested we all go to look at cars. I hadn’t really thought out the logistics of getting around to car places without first actually having a car, so that worked out well.

CJ jumped at the idea.

I could tell, even though it was a relatively good day, he still wasn’t feeling
well
, but he was so excited, and the doctors had given him the go-ahead, so we set out on our car-buying adventure.

“How about this one?” CJ went to the coolest, and also probably the most expensive car, on the lot.

“CJ, just how much money do you think I’ve been making?”

He looked sheepish. “Not that much?”

“Baby, I could buy a
tire
from that car… maybe… if Pete pitched in his savings too.”

“Hey,” Pete added, “don’t look at me. I’m just the bus.”

I rolled my eyes, CJ laughed, and we moved to a completely different part of the lot. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to get a loan, not by myself, and there was no way Allen would cosign, even if I asked him, which I had absolutely no desire or intention to do. So, we looked at the bargain-basement cars.