It's a Green Thing (21 page)

She nodded. “It's just one more way that Christians learn and grow. Jesus called it discipleship.”

“Okay, I have one more question,” I said hesitantly.

“Go for it.”

“Well, I know I hurt Dominic.”

“And?”

“I should probably ask him to forgive me.”

She nodded.

“That's it?” I waited. “No advice on how to do that?”

“Just the same old, same old.”

“Pray about it?”

“Yep.” She grinned. “And you might want to read those verses I gave you again.”

“While we're on the topic of those verses, Brooke's family is probably home from vacation now.”

Caitlin waited.

“And I think God is telling me that, besides forgiving Brooke, I should tell her I'm sorry.”

Caitlin's whole face lit up. “That's fantastic, Maya.”

I frowned. “Why is that? I mean, the truth is, I'm dreading it. I don't even want to do it, but I think I need to. But why is it fantastic?”

“Because it's Christlike.”

“Huh?”

“Jesus went to the cross for us, Maya.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning He didn't have to do it. He wasn't guilty of anything. But He took our sins on Himself, and by dying He secured our forgiveness.”

“Okay, I sort of know that. Or I'm learning about it. But I don't see how that applies to Brooke and me.”

“Because like you said, Brooke was the one who did the most wrong. She lied and made you miserable. And my guess is that she's miserable now. But you feel a tiny bit of responsibility, right?”

I nodded.

“For you to go to her… Well, I just know God is going to bless you, Maya.”

“Okay, now I have another question.”

“What?”

“Will I ever reach that place where I'm not having to forgive people or not having to ask them to forgive me?”

She laughed. “I hope not.”

“Why?”

“Well, unless it's in heaven. I think that life on earth is always going to be about forgiving and loving—it's just the way humans are.”

“Oh…” I nodded, trying to soak this in.

So on my way home, I pulled over and dialed Dominic's number. I had to take care of this before youth group. No more
parking lot scenes for this girl. The phone rang a few times, and I wondered if he was avoiding me. Finally it went to his messaging, and I decided to just go for it.

“Hey, Dominic. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for the way I handled everything last Saturday. But I can't pretend like everything is okay either. I really do like you. And I don't think I'm too good for you. But there are things about our relationship that make me uncomfortable. And if you can't accept that, I don't really see how we can be a couple. Anyway, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I think you're a cool guy. And I hope that someday we can talk. But no yelling, okay?” Then I said “bye” and hung up. Part of me thought this could be the chicken way out, but another part of me felt good. I had said what I felt and not gotten distracted. I wasn't angry. I was simply honest. And the ball was in his court now.

But Dominic wasn't at youth group tonight. Was it because of me? That thought made me sad. Later I wondered if Dominic, Brooke, and Amanda had all skipped youth group tonight because of me. Brooke and Amanda haven't been there for over a month. Then again, I may be taking myself too seriously. Or as Marissa would say, “Get over yourself, Maya.” Of course, this only reminds me that she decided to go to that stupid lake party tonight. When will she learn?

Kim woke me up early this morning. Odd, since it's Sunday, but I could tell by her creased brow that something was wrong.

“What's up?” I asked groggily.

“Dad just heard about it.”

“What?” I sat up and waited.

“Marissa.”

“What?”

“She's been in a really bad car wreck, Maya.”

“How bad?” I whispered.

She didn't say anything, but tears filled her eyes, and her hands were shaking.

“How bad?” I asked again.

“Dad said that she's alive…but it doesn't look good.”

Kim gave some more details about the accident, but her words just seemed to float over my head, and everything seemed blurry and unreal. And I just sat there in shock and sobbed, deep aching sobs.

I could hear Kim praying, but I wasn't sure I was even able. And then I stood up and yanked on my jeans and a sweatshirt and flip-flops. “Let's go!” I shouted at Kim.

“Where?”

“I've got to see Marissa.” I wiped my wet face with my sleeve.

“I'll drive,” she offered, and I didn't argue. As she drove to the hospital, we took turns praying for Marissa. And that's when I realized my cousin loves Marissa almost as much as I do. Even so, I know that Marissa has been closer to me than to Kim. And I hoped I'd be able to see her. I wasn't sure how bad she was, but I just
wanted to talk to her. I just wanted to tell her that I loved her, that God loved her, and that it wasn't too late.

The receptionist told us that Marissa was still in ICU but that we could go to the waiting room up there. Marissa's dad, still in his cop uniform, was pacing back and forth and rubbing his hands together. A couple of other officers were sitting nearby with somber faces. Kim and I sat down across from them, and Kim asked if there was any news on Marissa.

“They're trying to stabilize her,” one of the guys said with a hopeless look in his eyes.

“How long has she been here?” I asked.

“Since around two this morning,” the other cop said.

“Was she driving?” I asked.

“No.” Marissa's dad walked over to join us. “Her friend Eddie Valdez was driving. Driving Marissa's car.”

“I'm so sorry,” I said.

He just nodded and turned away.

“How is Eddie?” I asked the cops across from us.

“Better than Marissa. He had on his seat belt.”

“Marissa was thrown from the car.”

“Oh…” I glanced at Kim, and she reached over and took my hand.

“Among other things, she suffered a serious head injury.” The policeman sighed and shook his head. “Pretty severe.”

That's when the policemen introduced themselves as Officers Burns and Crandall. And Kim introduced us.

“How did you girls hear about it?” asked Burns. Kim explained that her dad was the editor of the newspaper.

“Oh, right, Allen Peterson,” said Crandall. “Nice guy.”

“Do you think there's any chance that we can see Marissa?” I asked, knowing it was probably useless. “Just for a minute?”

“They won't even let her dad in there yet.”

“Do you think she'll…” My voice drifted off.

“Maya is Marissa's best friend,” Kim explained. And although I wouldn't have laid claim to that title, I supposed it might be true. Marissa didn't have any other close friends. Not girls anyway.

“Hey, you're that green girl on TV, aren't you?” Burns said.

I nodded, but fresh tears were slipping out now.

“Well, Marissa is lucky to have such a good friend,” Crandall said. Then he frowned. “Why weren't you with her tonight?” It wasn't an accusation. More just curious. Still, it made me mad.

“I wish I
had
been with her,” I told him. “Then maybe this wouldn't have happened.”

“Marissa's dad had warned her again and again about that—”

“That's right,” said Adam, Marissa's dad. “But that's water under the bridge now.”

“I know,” said Crandall quickly. “I'm just saying you did all you could—”

“Did I?” Marissa's dad clenched his fists and shook them. “Did I really?” And then he broke down, collapsing onto a chair as his
two buddies gathered around him, trying to show support. But really, what could they say? What could anyone say?

“Let's pray,” Kim said quietly to me. And right there, just a few feet away from where Marissa's dad was sobbing, Kim began to pray out loud for Marissa. And her prayers were strong and full of faith. I joined her, hoping to have as much faith as she did. And before long, the policemen were praying too.

We stayed at the hospital all day, but Marissa's condition remained the same. Word spread quickly, and by noon a lot of people from our church had come, including Josh and Caitlin and Chloe. Not long after that, Allie and Laura and several more of their friends—kids who had known Marissa for years—showed up as well. About twenty or more of us were all crowded in the waiting room. And we were all praying. Amid this crowd was Dominic, and I could tell he'd been crying as well. Then I remembered that Eddie was his friend too.

Although my heart went out to Dominic, I wasn't ready to have a conversation with him yet. All I wanted to do was pray for Marissa. It's all I felt capable of doing. Nothing else mattered. Even now, as I sit in my room—emotionally drained and totally exhausted—writing in my journal because I can't sleep, I feel so helpless. All the things I've been worrying about seem minor now. All I can think about is Marissa and if she will live. The prognosis is not good. The doctor said she may not even make it through the night. Even so, I will keep praying. And I'll
return to the hospital first thing in the morning, hoping for a miracle.

I guess the miracle is that Marissa is still alive. No one expected her to make it through the night. Of course she's still unconscious, and she's got tubes and wires and all sorts of things keeping her stabilized. But she's still here—just barely.

This morning Marissa's dad was allowed five-minute “visits” with her. And by midafternoon, he asked if I wanted to see her too.

“Are you sure it's okay?” I'd heard it was “family only.” Not that Marissa has much family.

He nodded. “Marissa really likes you, Maya.”

“I want to talk to her.”

He nodded again, sadly. “I'm not sure she can hear you, but it's worth a try. I've said a lot of things myself.”

So, feeling unsure but determined, I went into the ICU area and let myself into her room. Swallowing back the shock of seeing her like this, so broken and helpless, I went to the side of her bed and simply began to talk.

“Marissa,” I said slowly, “I'm so sorry this happened to you. But I need to tell you some things, okay? First of all, I need to say that I really, really love you. And I don't think I've actually said that before. But it's true. I love you. In some ways you've felt almost like a sister to me. Okay, a dysfunctional sister, but, hey,
that's kind of like my family. But besides that, I want you to know that God loves you, Marissa. He really, really loves you. Even more than I do. And He sent His Son Jesus so that if you believe in Him, you will live forever.”

Tears were coming down my cheeks now. “I don't want you to die, but I know it's a possibility. And if you're leaving the planet, I want to make sure you know where you're going. I want to make sure you accept God's love and His forgiveness. It's like I've told you before, Marissa, I couldn't live without it. And you can't die without it.”

Now, it could've been my imagination, but I thought her eyelashes fluttered just then. It might've just been an involuntary twitch. Whatever it was, I didn't get to stay and find out because the nurse was motioning to me that my time was up.

“I love you, Marissa.” I eased away from her bed. “But God loves you even more. I hope you're listening.” By the time I closed the door behind me, I was crying hard. All I could do was return to the waiting room, where Kim and Chloe came over and hugged me.

“How do you think she's doing?” Chloe asked.

I shook my head. “I don't know.”

I still don't know. By the time I left the hospital tonight, I knew only three things. Marissa is still alive. But she may not be alive tomorrow. All we can do is pray.

T
his has been the longest week of my life. Kim and Uncle Allen encouraged me to get back to normal activities. At the time I couldn't even remember what normal was. But they were worried that I was getting depressed. Well, who wouldn't be depressed? Each day at the hospital was just like the day before. Nothing changed. Nothing improved. Although I prayed and prayed, there seemed no reason to hope.

Still, I think they were right. It has helped me to go back to work. I've visited Marissa in the mornings and then gone to Jacqueline's afterward. I even managed to do my news spots but only because the producer allowed me to mention my friend and ask for the community's prayers. I suppose I do need these distractions. I honestly don't know how Marissa's dad can bear it. He has been at the hospital 24/7, and in the past few days he has hardly left her side. When I confessed to him that I was having a tough time with all this, he wasn't a bit surprised. Then I told him that without God I wouldn't be able to endure it at all.

“Marissa told me you were a Christian,” he said quietly. We were standing outside her room, waiting for the nurse to take her vitals and change her IV.

“Really?”

“Yes. Then she got mad at me when I suggested she should go to church with you.” He shook his head. “I was always trying to change her.”