Authors: Brynn Stein
“Wait.” I finally caught on. “You’re really thinking of letting CJ go to the Art Institute open house? He’s been awfully sick. Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“I’m thinking about it,” the doctor answered. “With
lots
of precautions, it might be okay. And I know it’s really important to him.”
I really didn’t want to risk CJ’s health just for a road trip. “Do I get a vote?”
“No,” both CJ and Pete said at the same time.
“And you,” I rounded on Pete. “You’re doing all this calling behind my back and didn’t let me in on it?”
“I knew you decided not to risk it. But it’s really important to CJ to see you at the Art Institute. He made it all happen for you in the first place… or at least got the ball rolling. Don’t you think you owe it to him?”
“Owe what to him? Taxing his health so much that he….” I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t say that a road trip like this might kill him. I couldn’t even think it.
“It won’t kill me, Russ.” CJ almost always knew what I was thinking, even when I was trying not to think it. “And really, even if it does… I can think of no better way to go out. Really.” He locked eyes with me and worked up his best voodoo stare. “I really want this.”
I could tell he did, and I hated to deny him anything, but I didn’t want to tax his already very limited reserves.
“Actually,” the doctor said, “it’ll probably be good for him, Russ.” Then he looked sternly at CJ. “As long as you follow
all
the precautions I’m going to put in place.”
CJ did his best mock salute. “Aye, aye, sir!”
“Watch it, kid,” the doctor threw out, but I could tell there was no heat behind it at all. He gripped CJ’s shoulder and added. “Let me see what I can do. It’s this Saturday, right?”
CJ just beamed. Somehow he already knew he’d won.
Come Saturday morning, we were bundling him into Pete’s car.
“W
HY
DO
I have to sit in the back?” CJ whined. I didn’t even know he could whine.
“Because Dr. Dunlap said he wanted you to be able to stretch out and rest as much as possible,” I answered him sternly.
“So then, there’s no reason you can’t sit back here with me, right?” he said. “And I can lean against you.”
“I’m navigating.”
“You can navigate from the back,” Pete said, putting in his two cents’ worth. “Sounds fun, Russ. Sit in the back and cuddle.”
He made kissy faces and said “cuddle” condescendingly. He also leered like he expected us to have sex in the backseat or something.
I did what any mature person being made fun of like that would do. I hit him.
I
T
WASN
’
T
long before we hit the road with me and CJ ensconced in the back and Pete driving. I had made a big deal of wanting to drive myself and wanting it to be just me and CJ. But that was one of the doctor’s stipulations… that there be at least the two of us beside CJ in case there was an emergency.
“Okay, Pete,” I cautioned as he pulled away from the curb. “Go really slow the whole way so we don’t jostle CJ, and….”
He turned back toward me with a gleam in his eye that never meant anything good and said, “Booooooor-ing.” And stepped on the gas.
CJ cheered, and I thought I was going to lose my lunch.
A
S
WE
drove the three hours across parts of New York that I had never seen before, CJ sat against me the whole way there. I had him belted into the center seat, but he was cuddled up with his back to my chest as I sat diagonally. It was really nice to get to hold him that much.
But a bored CJ is a dangerous thing.
Pete and I had been randomly reading road signs and billboards, just to have something to do. CJ turned it up a notch.
“Horney River,” he called out.
“That said Hornet River, CJ,” I corrected.
“I like mine better.”
A short while later, he announced, “Frottage Road.”
“Frontage Road,” again I corrected.
“Well, you have to use your frontage for frottage, so close enough,” he answered. “Besides, I like mine better.”
We had about ten minutes of just normal conversation; then CJ called out, “Foreplay Circle.”
“Foray Circle.”
“I like mine better.” This time, Pete was saying, “I like CJ’s better,” at the same time.
“See, Russ?” Pete went on. “This is CJ not being boring… like
other
people in this car I might name.”
“I’m not boring. It’s just not what the signs actually say.”
“Booooor-ing,” Pete announced again.
It wasn’t two minutes up the road before we started seeing signs for “Bubble’s Boutique.” I couldn’t wait to see what CJ made of that.
“Bubbles? Sounds like a stripper.” Pete actually got in the remark before CJ.
“Or a hooker,” CJ added.
The next billboard said, “Bubble’s has it all.”
CJ just laughed at that, but another billboard came immediately after that, that listed “beer, suckers, fireworks” and then again “Bubble’s has it all.”
“See?” CJ remarked. “Hooker. She gets you drunk and then sucks you off till you see fireworks.”
“CJ!” I was shocked. But Pete just laughed hysterically, so I directed my next comment to him. “Don’t encourage him.”
The next one said Exotic Candy.
“What the hell is exotic candy?” I made the mistake of asking.
“Maybe a chocolate penis on a stick?” CJ put in his theory.
Pete added, “Or pubic hairs made out of coconut.”
“Oh, you two are disgusting,” I scolded. “Bubbles is probably some sweet old lady with a roadside store who is just trying to make a living….”
But the next billboard said “Stop in at Bubble’s Boutique. We have something for all your needs.”
All three of us lost it.
Then, just a few miles up the road, we saw a tiny little store with “Bubble’s Boutique” in big letters above it.
“How do they have room to ‘have it all’ in that tiny place?” I asked.
“Not even room for a decent dance floor,” Pete put in.
“Wait.” CJ turned and reached toward it while we passed it. “Aren’t we gonna stop? I want a chocolate penis.”
I could see Pete smirk in the rearview mirror, so when he opened his mouth, I interrupted, “Don’t even think about it.” He dissolved into laughter instead. So did CJ.
A
S
WE
neared the college, the back roads turned into interstates, then, all of a sudden we ended up on a six-lane highway with on-ramps and off-ramps and cloverleaves and just about any kind of road configuration known to man, all at the same time.
I hadn’t been paying attention to the GPS, so I hadn’t seen that coming. Poor Pete had no idea where to go.
“Which way, Russ?” He called, almost panicked, from the front seat.
“Um….” I was still trying to figure it out. “Left. I think.”
“Russ, there are three distinct ways to go that I would consider ‘left.’”
“I don’t know.” I couldn’t explain it to him. The GPS screen was a mass of gray squiggles, indicating other roadways, and a very definite blue line that we were supposed to be following, but it snaked all over the place, and I couldn’t really put into words what we were supposed to do. “Just follow the blue line!”
“Follow the….” Pete was exasperated. “CJ. Hit him for me.”
“Ow,” I bellowed, when CJ did just that.
“Thank you, CJ,” Pete called back.
CJ figured out the maze of roads before I did and was able to tell Pete which way to go, as I was still rubbing my head.
W
E
FINALLY
got to the college, and CJ was exhausted. He had fallen asleep against me just a half hour or so before, and I hated to wake him up.
“Let me call them and tell them we’re here,” Pete said as he got out of the car. “They said they’d come meet us.”
I saw him put away the phone and get the wheelchair out of the trunk and recognized the effort for what it was—an attempt to let CJ sleep as long as he could.
W
ITHIN
MINUTES
, though, a lady appeared by the car and spoke to Pete.
“Are you Russ?” She said. “I’m Tammy.”
“I’m Pete,” he said as he shook her hand. “I’m the one you’ve been talking to off and on. Russ is in there, with CJ.”
Tammy held the wheelchair while we got CJ out of the car and into it.
“Russ, I can walk,” he whined again but just loud enough for me to hear as I knelt down beside him.
“Dr. D said this was the only way, remember?”
“Hey, I’m not gonna tell him if you don’t.” He smiled.
“We’re going to do it his way,” I said softly but sternly.
“It’s really nice to meet you, CJ,” Tammy said as CJ looked up. “Pete told me that you’re the person we have to thank for bringing Russ to our attention.”
I could tell that CJ hated meeting anyone from a wheelchair, but she had happened on one of his favorite topics. For some reason I was right up there with his kids as far as favorite conversation topics. He was off like a shot and pretty much monopolized Tammy’s attention most of the day.
W
E
HAD
a good visit. The college looked great, and I was so glad to have an opportunity to share it with CJ. Tammy talked of CJ visiting me often and that we were allowed to have guests in our rooms. I didn’t know how much Pete had told her. Did she really not know that those visits would most likely never happen? Or was she like most people when they were around patients who were dying: just talk about the future like they’d be there forever, just pretend the illness didn’t exist?
But, it didn’t seem to make CJ uncomfortable, and that was all I cared about.
We got back in the car and started on our way. CJ didn’t even make it fifteen minutes before he fell asleep.
When we passed Bubble’s again, Pete said, “When he wakes up, I’m going to swear we stopped and got a chocolate penis on a stick.”
W
E
GOT
through the rest of June and all the way to July 4. I sneaked in a pack of sparklers, and we watched them twinkle in his darkened room with him on my lap in the “comfortable” chair. I thought we were going to catch his pillow on fire a couple of times, but it would have been worth it to see his eyes light up like a little kid as the sparks shot off here and there.
He was getting weaker and weaker and before long could hardly get out of bed without help. I knew he didn’t have long left, but I refused to leave his side. We spent a lot of time both squeezed into his bed, or both sitting on my comfortable chair.
On July 28, two weeks before his eighteenth birthday, we snuggled in the chair beside his bed. He had been still for so long, I had thought he’d fallen asleep. He surprised me when he spoke.
“Russ, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything. For loving me. For giving me a reason to live… a lot longer than the doctors had originally predicted.”
I didn’t know what to say to that at first, so I kissed the top of his head and held him close while I thought about how to put my emotions into words. “Anything you think I’ve given you, you’ve given me so much more. God, CJ. I was so angry when I met you… at everyone and everything. I was planning to quit school. I probably would have ended up in juvie again, or worse, actual jail once I turned eighteen. I had no idea where my life was going, or even if I wanted it to go at all. Then I met you. I have no idea how you reached me, CJ. But you changed my whole life. You were the only one to love me… in a really long time.”
“You’re easy to love, Russ.” His voice was getting noticeably weaker, and I pulled away enough to look at him. He didn’t look right. I couldn’t have put into words just what was wrong, but I knew something was.
“Let me call the nurse, CJ.” I shifted him a little in my lap, so that I could reach the call button, but he held on tight.
“No, Russ. Don’t.” He met my eyes. “I like where I am. I don’t want to move.”
I had to admit there really wasn’t much they could do for him. But, he just didn’t look right, and he was scaring me to death. I told him so.
“Don’t be scared,” he answered with that ageless wisdom he sometimes seemed to have. “I’m not.”
That, of course, scared me even more. “CJ, is…. Are you…?” I couldn’t form a full sentence. I didn’t know what I was trying to say. I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared. “Let me call the nurse.”
“If you really aren’t comfortable with this, Russ, you can. But you know they can’t do anything, and I really want….” A tear ran down his cheek. I almost never saw CJ cry. “I love you so much, Russ. I don’t want to leave. Not ever. But if I have to… I want to be….” Another tear followed. “But, if you don’t feel comfortable….”
“God, CJ.” I went from scared to terrified. “Are you saying you’re…. God, now?”
He just nodded. I couldn’t help it. I had to call the nurse. I couldn’t let this happen without doing
something
. I couldn’t. “Can I….” I moved my head in the direction of the call button.
He nodded but held on.
Barbara came in immediately. I told her what was going on, and she knelt in front of CJ.
“How do you feel, baby?” She wiped the tears from his eyes.
“I’m okay with it. I really am.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“Are you in pain, honey?” she asked him.
“No… I’m really not. That’s how I know it’s….” If he couldn’t even bring himself to say it, how did he think I was going to get through this? “Can I stay here, Barb? On Russ’s lap?”
She looked at me. “Are you okay with that, sugar?”
I must have looked like a deer in the headlights. I couldn’t answer. I looked down at CJ, but he was looking back at me with such love and such peace, I just couldn’t say no.