Becca (17 page)

Becca started the car and
pulled out of the parking lot. In a few minutes, they were in front of Bert’s
house.

“You brought me home?” he
asked.

“Sure, is there a problem
with that?”

“No. I thought you wanted
to go somewhere.”

“I did. But I thought
sitting here would be nicer than the hatchet man.”

“And safer.”

She wiggled a finger at
him. “You got that right, buckaroo.”

The light was on in the
living room as usual and when they mounted the porch stairs, the door opened. Carol
stood watching them, silhouetted by the light behind her.

“Hello, Becca,” she said.

“Hi, Carol. Look who I
found.”

Carol came out onto the
porch and hugged Becca. She said, “Your father called here before and he wanted
to talk to Josh. Bertram’s explained to me your little joke. Your father’s
upset. Is there a problem?”

“Yes,” Becca said, “my
father is a racist.”

Becca’s candidness
surprised Carol. “Oh, I see.”

“Mom,” Bert said, “I told
you—it’s the same here as it was in town.”

“It’s worse,” Carol said.
“There you didn’t have a girlfriend.”

Bert and Becca exchanged
looks. Bert said, “Oh we’re not—”

Carol held up her hand. “SShh.
Yes you are. You kids are adorable together.”

Bert blushed, and Becca
smiled demurely.

Bert said, “I’ve got to
tell you something.” He put his hands on Carol’s shoulders.

“What is it?”

“Mom, you know I’ve been
drafted, well Sergeant James says if I enlist there’s a chance I won’t go to
Vietnam.”

“So are you telling me
that you’re enlisting?”

“I have to consider it.”

Carol’s eyes watered. “No,
Bertram. No. Don’t do it.”

“I’m drafted; I’m leaving
anyway in three weeks.”

Carol looked at Becca,
who reached out and took her hand. “And things were just going so good for you
two.” She shook her head, excused herself, and went back inside.

“Well, I screwed
that
up,”
Bert said.

Becca started pushing the
glider back and forth with her foot. “You know, Josh…I’m upset you’re leaving
also. I’m enjoying us—you know what I mean…and I need you.”

Her words stunned him.
“No one’s ever needed me before.”

“Well, don’t let your
head swell to big so you can’t put a helmet on…but, yeah, I do.” She heaved a
huge sigh and leaned back on the glider, resting her head on the pillow. “I’m
scared, Josh,” she said. “I’m really scared. What if they take my leg? Don’t
look so shocked. It’s got this
thing
in it. This
thing
might
spread and then it could
kill
me.”

“Don’t talk about that.”

“My leg?”

“Death.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess it’s
way too early to talk about that, huh.”

“It won’t spread.”

“Please be right,” she
said and slid against him and put her arms around him and buried her face
against him. Her embrace was at once fierce and gentle.

He put his arms around
her and they remained like that for a couple of minutes before Becca spoke. “What
am I going to do?” she asked.

“You are going to get
better.”

“
Promise
me.” She
looked up at him. The light from the living room window settled in her eyes.

“You’re going to be all
right.”

“Tomorrow night, can you
come to the hospital to see me? I’ll be in Allegheny General. You know where it
is, right?”

“I’ll be there.”

“I don’t know when visiting
hours are but you can call. I’ve told my mom and my father not to bother coming
in to see me tomorrow evening. I mean, they’re going to be with me the whole
time I’m getting the procedure done. And—unless it’s really bad, I don’t expect
them to want to stick around in the evening.” She yawned. “I hate to say this,
but I’m exhausted. Mind if I go now?”

“No, you’ve got a big day
ahead of you.”

“What a cliché that was. ‘A
big day’. Sounds like it’s something to look forward to.” She giggled and took
his hand to help her up and they walked to her car hand in hand.

“Josh,” Becca said as she sat down in the
driver’s seat, “we
are
adorable.” She smiled, shut the door, and waved. Then,
as she started the car, she blew him a kiss and winked.

XI

“You tell me right now
what you were doing with that boy!” Bill said, stabbing the air in front of
Becca with his pipe stem. Her mother stood beside her.

“Talking,” Becca said.

“I told
him
to
stay away from you!
However, it appears
you
can’t stay away from
him!
He’s the wrong
kind
, Becky.”

“What—he’s the wrong
size, shape,
color?”

“Yes, stick with your
own
kind.”

Becca burst out laughing.
“Oh my God, that’s from West Side Story!”

“Don’t you make fun of
me!” He raised his hand and Becca stood defiantly.

“Bill!”
Mary screamed and went to her husband. “
Stop this!”

“She hasn’t learned, Mary.
She hasn’t learned a
goddamned thing!
I
knew
there was something
going
on!
You’re dumping Greg because he’s not
dark
enough for
you!”

“Bill!”
Mary shouted.

Becca said, “Greg doesn’t
like women. But he’s still more of a man than you are. And if it makes you
feel
like a man to hit me—
do
it, and I’ll go straight to the police.”

Mary started to speak,
but Becca shushed her. “Mom, please. I’m not afraid.” She rubbed her leg. The
pain had fared up again.

“Don’t threaten me,” Bill
said to Becca.

“No, Dad. I just made a
promise.”

“Well, young lady, it’s
over anyway. I saw this boy of yours and you should have heard him when I
confronted him. He didn’t even stand up to me and agreed to stop seeing you.”

“He did, did he?” Becca
smiled and then began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?

“Josh has been drafted. He
didn’t agree because he was
afraid
of you. He agreed because he’s not
going to be
around
.” She wiped her tears.

Bill jammed the pipe into
his mouth with an audible clamping down of his teeth. He glared at her, his
eyes twitching.

“I’m going to see Josh
before he goes away. You won’t stop me.” She started for the stairs and turned.
“And maybe
he’ll
die over there in Vietnam too. But don’t worry; I won’t
make the same mistake with him that I made with
Alex!
”

“There will be another
one to come along.”

“
No!
That’s where
you’re
wrong!
There
won’t
be another one like him. Not like
Josh!”
She ran up the stairs, stopping at the top and grabbing her leg.

I

“I don’t want to leave in
a week,” Bert said.

“Well, to get the
training you wanted you’ll have to leave then, Bertram,” Sergeant James said. “You’ll
have to take the physical tomorrow and then leave next Friday. Why can’t you
leave in a week?”

“Becca.”

“Oh, Christ, a girl. I
should have known. Your girl doesn’t want you to leave, is that it? Did you
tell her that you’re leaving anyway? Whether you enlist or report for the draft
you’re out of here.”

“I can’t leave now.”

“So you’re not going to
enlist?”

Bert stood up. “Not now. Sorry.”

“What difference does it
make—next week or three weeks?”

“I just can’t go right
now.”

“You’re making a
mistake.”

Bert said, “Maybe. But it’s one I
have
to
make.”

II

“Now, Rebecca,” Doctor
London said, “it’s not too late. I can have an anesthesiologist administer you
something that will put you under.”

“I don’t want that.”

Dr. London smiled. “Okay,
I’m going to administer the local now. You’ll feel a pinch.”

“Ow! That wasn’t a pinch.
That
hurt.
”

Dr. London said, “We
don’t actually want to say it hurts, Rebecca.”

“God, I can imagine what
I’d feel if you said ‘this is going to hurt.’”

“I wouldn’t have kept you
awake for something like that.”

“I should hope not.”

“You have a great attitude.”

“I do? I don’t know why. Actually,
I’m pissed off. Sorry, doc. This
thing
is really screwing up my life,
but I guess my life would be pretty much screwed up even if I didn’t have
cancer.”

“I can’t imagine your
life as being screwed up.”

“I hide it well.”

“Well, let me worry about
this
part of your life, Rebecca, maybe I can unscrew this part.”

She chuckled. “You’re
funny for a doctor.”

“I try and add a little
humor to make the patient feel more at ease.”

“Hey, my leg is feeling
cold and heavy.”

“That’s the medication.”

“It feels weird—like it’s
there but it’s not.”

“Then so far I’ve done
well. I’m going to give you another injection, Rebecca.”

“Another one? Am I going
to feel a pinch, doc? Or is this one that I should be knocked out for?”

“Did you feel it?”

“Huh?”

“I already gave it to
you.”

“Oh. Oh, hey, groovy—didn’t
feel anything.”

“That’s good.”

Becca, lying on the
table, stared up at the light fixture on the ceiling. A partition had been set
above her stomach so that she could not see what the doctor was doing. Her
mother sat in a chair in the corner, watching her.

“Mrs. Smith,” Dr. London
said, “I suggest you join your husband in the waiting room now. This should not
take long.”

Mary
bent over,
kissed Becca’s forehead and clasped her hand briefly. “I love you, honey.”

“If you see them carrying
something out that looks like a leg, make sure it’s the right leg and not the
left one,” Becca said.

“Oh, please, Miss Smith,”
Dr. London said, “Nothing is leaving this room without you attached.”

Becca laughed as her
mother kissed her again and left the room.

“I’m touching your leg,
Rebecca, do you feel that?” Dr. London asked.

“No,” Becca said. She
stared up at the ceiling tiles.

“I’m touching you with a
needle, do you feel that?” Dr. London asked after a minute

“No. Crap, I lost count.”

“Lost count of what?”

“The holes in the ceiling
tiles. I was trying to see how many one of them had.”

“I’m going to start the
incision now. Please let me know if you become uncomfortable.”

“Meaning if I feel
excruciating pain because the medicine has worn off?”

“I don’t think there’s a
chance of that, but let me know if you feel nauseous, or light-headed.”

“Are you going to keep
cutting if you find something bad?”

“What do you feel?”

“Nothing. You didn’t
answer my question.”

“No, I won’t keep cutting.
I’ve made the incision—retractor. Wipe, please, nurse. Now, Rebecca I’m making
another incision.”

“You can stop with the
play by play. My brain is telling me I should be screaming in pain, but I don’t
feel anything.”

“Okay,” Dr. London smiled.
“No more commentary.”

Becca said after a minute
or two, “I saw this movie about World War Two and this Army pilot was having
his leg cut off by a doctor and there was an old Chinese guy helping the doctor.
And the Army guy starts getting panicky because he can feel his toes and his
other leg, and he starts yelling hurry doc hurry, and the old Chinese guy ends
up holding him down because he knows the stuff is going to wear off before the
doctor finishes.”

“Thirty Seconds Over
Tokyo,” Dr. London said.

“What?”

“The movie. With Van
Johnson and Spencer Tracy.”

“Yeah, Van Johnson. He
was the guy getting his leg hacked off. They didn’t have any more painkillers
to give him. So he was going bananas.”

“Well, if that should
happen here, Rebecca, I think Nurse Chambers will take the place of the old
Chinese guy.”

Becca laughed. “Hey,
you’re real comedian. Wouldn’t it be easier just to give me more of what you
just gave me?”

“You won’t need more. This
will only take a few more minutes. I’m going to be poking and prodding so let
me know if you begin to feel your toes or your other leg. But I would
appreciate you not asking me questions until I’ve finished okay?”

“Okay, doc. Sorry for
talking so much. I can’t help it. I love talking and this medicine you gave me has
loosened my tongue.” She chuckled. “I wish Josh was here,” she said seriously. “Josh
is my boyfriend. Well you know what? He’s not
really
my boyfriend. I
mean I
have
a boyfriend, but he’s gay, so he’s not like
really
my
boyfriend either—well he
was
until he decided to go to UCLA where maybe
he can find a nice gay guy to hang around with. So I won’t even have
him
as
a boyfriend anymore. I want Josh to be my boyfriend, but we’re not really
dating
or anything, although we’ve been out a couple of times but they weren’t
dates like you would think a date is. We’re not a couple but we look adorable
together. Weird, huh? I love him, doctor. I mean, Josh. I love Josh.” She
giggled. “His name is Josh, but that’s not his real name because he doesn’t
like his real name, which is Bertram. What a name, right? Bertram! But he likes
Josh and so I call him that. And he likes Alexander, which I’ve called him a
couple of times because I knew an Alexander a couple of years ago, and he…well
I still miss him. Anyway, I think Josh is a better name than Bertram, but
really, I wouldn’t care if his name was
Buford
I’d still love him. You
wanna know something weird? He doesn’t
know
I love him. I’ve told him a
couple of times that I love him, but I don’t think he took me seriously or he
didn’t hear me. Or maybe he
did
hear me, but he won’t tell me he heard
me because maybe he doesn’t love me—or maybe he doesn’t
want
to love me.
I don’t know. It’s very complicated because he’s half black and half white and
all. He’s coming to visit me this evening. I think…I think I’ll tell him I love
him.” She felt tears form in her eyes. “I actually
adore
him. Have you
ever
adored
somebody, doctor? It’s a great feeling. But he’s going into
the Army. Going to war probably. And I don’t want anything to happen to him
because if something does I’ll go crazy. I’m crazy now just thinking about him
going away.”

“Rebecca,” Dr. London
said, “can you relax a little please, I’m almost done here. Nurse, sponge.”

“I thought her name was
Nurse Chambers. Hahaha. I want to relax, but I’m scared. I lied. I’m scared I’m
going to be like—what’s his name, the van guy?—in that movie Thirty Days Over
Japan or whatever it was. Only it’s going to be me who forgets I don’t have a
leg and I’ll stand up out of my wheelchair and fall flat on my face when Josh
comes into my hospital room.”

“Calm down, Rebecca,
please.”

“I’m trying to, but I’ve
got that thing growing in my leg and I want it out. Take it out, Doctor London.
Please take it out.”

“I’m almost finished.”

“Hurry doc, hurry. I
think I can wiggle my
toes
. Doc, I think I can feel my other
leg
—hurry
doc,
hurry!”

“Rebecca, can you
feel
this?”

“Feel what?”

“What I’m doing?”

“No.”

“Then you’re okay.”

“I know. I just
remembered what John Vanson said in the movie.”

“Please don’t quote
anymore movie dialogue until I’m done,” Dr. London said with a smile.

“Oh my God, I just remembered another one.
‘Where’s the rest of me?’ That was what’s his name who said that—in the movie
he had his legs cut off or something. I don’t want to lose my leg, doc. I don’t
want Josh to see me without a leg.”

III

Bert found a parking spot
not far from the hospital. He walked into the lobby and paused, thinking
perhaps that he would see Mr. Smith or Greg. He saw no one and then went to the
reception desk. Both of the visitor cards were in the slot for her room. She
was alone.

“Miss Rebecca Smith,”
Bert said to the lady at the desk. He received a card and took the elevator to
the seventh floor.

He got off the elevator
and again looked around for her father or Greg, or her girlfriends, but saw no
one. He cursed himself for being paranoid, and went straight to her room. The
bed closest to the door was unkempt, as if the person had just left it. Becca sat
looking out the window next to her bed, and when she heard him come in she
turned to him and her face brightened with a smile.

“Hey you,” she said, her
voice sounded as excited as she looked.

“Hi,” Bert said and went
to her bedside.

“Look,” Becca said and
tossed back the light blanket that had covered her. She wiggled her feet. “Still
have both legs.”

“That’s good news,” he
said, smiling, taking his eyes from her wonderful legs to her smiling face.

“Not so good news, Josh,”
Becca said, losing her smile now.

“What’s wrong?”

“Dr. London—he didn’t say
anything, but I could see it on his face.”

“What did you see on his
face?”

She sighed. “It’s
cancer.”

“Come on now wait until
the doctor says it is.”

“Okay, I’ll wait. I won’t
even think about it. I’ll think of school and the holidays, and I’ll say good
bye to Greg when he goes out to California to find love and I’ll say good bye
to you when you go off to war.”

“Who says I’m going off
to war?”

“Josh, hmmm—let’s see. You’ve
been drafted, there’s a war going on,—gee, I think I can add that up.”

“You can’t be any more
sure of that than you are of that thing being cancer.” He pointed at her leg.

“What do
you
think,
Josh? What’s your gut tell you?”

“It’s not cancer.”

“Not what you think about
my
leg,
what do you think about you going off to war. Tell me. Tell me
what your
gut
says. My gut says I’ve got cancer
and
that you’re
going off to war.”

“Ditto.”

“So you
do
think
it’s cancer!”

“What? No. I’m thinking
I’m going off to war.”

“I’m prepared for the
worse too.”

Bert looked out of the
window, which faced Pittsburgh’s skyline across the river. The sun was setting,
putting a golden glow on the Ohio River where it formed at the city’s point.

“So I asked a million
questions and Dr. London can’t answer any of them until he knows for sure what
I have.” Becca pulled up her hospital gown to her abdomen to reveal the bandage
on her thigh. “He said he to make a bigger incision than he expected, so it’s a
pretty good-sized hole I got there. He took out something big I suppose—I
couldn’t see what the hell he was doing. I don’t feel a thing now because he’s
given me some kind of painkiller that I’m really enjoying. But it’s making me
talk my head off.” She chuckled. “That’s why my roommate left. Her name’s Jean
and she’s here for observation—whatever that means. I guess it means that they
don’t know what the hell’s wrong with her so they’re going to watch her until
they figure out if something’s wrong with her or not. But how long will they
keep her here for observation, Josh?”