The months passed slowly after that. Zoey remained vibrant and full of life. The first month passed, then the second. Slowly, I began to change. Zoey’s daily wisdom and constant happiness had a major effect on me, and I became happier as a result. Little by little, I stopped being mean to people and started being nicer.
A third month passed. Zoey had now survived four months when she was only expected to make three.
We sat now at the end of that last month, me with my back to our oak tree. She sat on my lap, looking out at the setting sun. Her brown hair blew gently past my face in the wind, slightly golden in the light of the descending sun.
“Ben,” she said quietly, “I think…I think my time is up.”
I just nodded.
“I accomplished something, Ben.” She coughed softly. “Doctor Thompson said I would only make it three months, but I made it four.”
She turned her head to look at me and smiled gently. I smiled back and took her hand in mine.
“You did good, Zo,” I said. We sat in silence the rest of the sun’s descent and then late into the night. Finally, she stood and hugged me, then went home. We did this every night for a week, and then Zoey went into the hospital. The cancer had finally taken its toll. I stayed by her side every minute of every day after that until the day came when she passed away.
I’ll never forget Zoey and the things she taught me. I visited her grave every weekend after that and told her how I was doing, what new books I was reading, new things I’ve written. I’ll read her this story, too, once it is finished. I know she would love it.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Lessons from Zoey, Pt. 3
She laughed again and got out her things. We spent the remainder of the sunlight working, finishing most of our homework. Then Zoey stood up on her tiptoes and looked out of the window. Her hazel eyes widened and twinkled.
“Ben! Let’s climb down and watch the sunset! It looks beautiful!”
We climbed down to the bottom of the tree and looked out on the horizon. She was right! The sun was slowly descending, a bright orange orb in the sky surrounded by fluffy, white cushions sparked with reds and violets and pinks.
As we watched the sunset, I was taken back to a time in our past when we always watched the sunset together. I could see little nine year old Zoey now, running across the field from her house to mine.
“Benny! Benny, come out! The sun’s going home now! We have to say goodbye!”
I dashed out of my room and through the front door. She grabbed my hand immediately and took off running, nearly dragging me along behind her. The little red dress she always loved to wear swished about her little tanned legs as she ran, barefoot as usual.
We finally arrived at the top of a hillock at the edge of our property. Zoey grinned and fell backward, scattering dandelions about her. She lay in the grass and looked up at the sky. I sat down next to her and hugged my knees to my chest. After a little bit, she sat up and pointed to the clouds.
“You know what those are, Benny?”
I nodded. “Duh, Zo! Those are clouds!”
She giggled and shook her head. “No, look past that. Think! They are cushions for the sun! They keep him comfortable so he can sleep well! Don’t you always sleep better when your momma tucks you in at night?”
I scratched at a little scab on my leg. “Well, yeah…”
She stood up quickly and spread her arms wide in the air, as if the sky were an exhibit and she was displaying it for the world to see.
“That’s what the clouds do for Sunny! They tuck him in so he can sleep better!”
I smiled at the memory. I turned my head just a little and watched her now. She just stared up at the sun, eyes wide and practically glowing, her face split in a huge, delighted grin. This was Zoey, the little seventeen year old wise woman. The sky was the limit for her. She used to tell me, “life should be lived to the fullest. Who cares if there’s a chance you can’t do something? Dream it anyway! A pilot does not think of landing before he takes off, he thinks of flying high!”
The sun finally fell behind the mountains, casting the world in darkness. Zoey gave me one last word of wisdom before going home.
“Don’t lose hope, Ben,” she said. “I am going to die, but I will always live…” Here, she lay her hand gently over my heart and smiled. “I will always live in here.”
“Ben! Let’s climb down and watch the sunset! It looks beautiful!”
We climbed down to the bottom of the tree and looked out on the horizon. She was right! The sun was slowly descending, a bright orange orb in the sky surrounded by fluffy, white cushions sparked with reds and violets and pinks.
As we watched the sunset, I was taken back to a time in our past when we always watched the sunset together. I could see little nine year old Zoey now, running across the field from her house to mine.
“Benny! Benny, come out! The sun’s going home now! We have to say goodbye!”
I dashed out of my room and through the front door. She grabbed my hand immediately and took off running, nearly dragging me along behind her. The little red dress she always loved to wear swished about her little tanned legs as she ran, barefoot as usual.
We finally arrived at the top of a hillock at the edge of our property. Zoey grinned and fell backward, scattering dandelions about her. She lay in the grass and looked up at the sky. I sat down next to her and hugged my knees to my chest. After a little bit, she sat up and pointed to the clouds.
“You know what those are, Benny?”
I nodded. “Duh, Zo! Those are clouds!”
She giggled and shook her head. “No, look past that. Think! They are cushions for the sun! They keep him comfortable so he can sleep well! Don’t you always sleep better when your momma tucks you in at night?”
I scratched at a little scab on my leg. “Well, yeah…”
She stood up quickly and spread her arms wide in the air, as if the sky were an exhibit and she was displaying it for the world to see.
“That’s what the clouds do for Sunny! They tuck him in so he can sleep better!”
I smiled at the memory. I turned my head just a little and watched her now. She just stared up at the sun, eyes wide and practically glowing, her face split in a huge, delighted grin. This was Zoey, the little seventeen year old wise woman. The sky was the limit for her. She used to tell me, “life should be lived to the fullest. Who cares if there’s a chance you can’t do something? Dream it anyway! A pilot does not think of landing before he takes off, he thinks of flying high!”
The sun finally fell behind the mountains, casting the world in darkness. Zoey gave me one last word of wisdom before going home.
“Don’t lose hope, Ben,” she said. “I am going to die, but I will always live…” Here, she lay her hand gently over my heart and smiled. “I will always live in here.”
Lessons from Zoey, Pt. 2
The rest of the day passed without incident. I only had Spanish, chemistry, and English left. Mr. Sorrel, my English teacher, started us on short story writing. I think I’ll write about Zoey…
Finally, the end-of-class bell rang, signaling freedom. I got up and jammed my stuff in my bag and tore out of that classroom like the Roadrunner. Twenty minutes of walking later I arrived at the base of a small hill, at the top of which grew the large oak tree that held in its branches the treehouse Zoey and I called our Secret Place. I could hear the sound of her voice as I trudged up the hill. She was singing.
How that girl managed to stay so kind and so happy while dying was beyond me. I know that I don’t handle pain and suffering well. Quite frankly, I’m a jerk. I’m nice enough to my friends, and especially to Zoey, but I’m not so nice to others. Why should I be? Other people will only stab me in the back. I have only found pain and sorrow with them.
The singing had stopped. I looked up at the treehouse and saw Zoey looking down at me from one of the windows, her bright eyes dimmed with sadness. I mentally kicked myself for brooding around her and climbed up the ladder.
“I worry about you, Ben,” she said as I plopped down on the floor. I just nodded.
“I know, Zo. I worry about you too, too. How can you be so happy when you know you’re dying?”
“Well,” she said with a shrug, “we all will die someday. If I had taken the treatments and possibly survived cancer, I would still die.”
“But, Zoey, you could have had a better life once the treatment was over! Sure, you would still die someday, but you could live longer!”
She smiled gently and shook her head. “I could, Ben,” she said, and that was all. We stayed silent for a moment. I was deep in thought and she was just looking at me wisely.
“I don’t want you to die, Zoey.”
Her eyes turned sad. She nodded and stood, then crossed over to the window. The silence that followed descended on the treehouse like a thick fog, but I didn’t dare break it. After a long while, Zoey finally turned around and looked at me, and I was stunned to see that tears were filling her eyes. Her bottom lip quivered slightly, trying to hold in the cry that desperately wanted out.
“I…I don’t want to die either, Ben,” she said. She dived into my arms then and sobbed into my chest. I let her and did not disturb her. I just wrapped my arms around her gently and held her comfortingly. She finally calmed after a while and sat up, sniffling and wiping her eyes.
“I don’t want to die,” she said thickly, “but this is the road I have chosen, and it is too late to go back.”
Another awkward silence fell. Finally she turned and smiled gently, resting her hand on my shoulder.
“Ben, life is like a wave in the ocean. It ebbs and it flows, eventually coming to crash on the beach.”
I looked at her curiously. Every now and then, Zoey could say something really wise and I wouldn’t understand a word of it.
“What do you mean?”
She laughed gently. “What I mean is that life has its bad times and its good times, but the end is inevitable. You were right in saying that I could have lived longer had I taken treatment, but as I said, the end would still come. That is why we should not focus on the end, but on today.
Today, I am still here. Today, I am still your best friend. Today we still have, so why not enjoy it?”
I smiled at that. She was right. I pulled my notebook out of my bag and winked.
“Sounds good to me, but we should probably do this homework first.”
Finally, the end-of-class bell rang, signaling freedom. I got up and jammed my stuff in my bag and tore out of that classroom like the Roadrunner. Twenty minutes of walking later I arrived at the base of a small hill, at the top of which grew the large oak tree that held in its branches the treehouse Zoey and I called our Secret Place. I could hear the sound of her voice as I trudged up the hill. She was singing.
How that girl managed to stay so kind and so happy while dying was beyond me. I know that I don’t handle pain and suffering well. Quite frankly, I’m a jerk. I’m nice enough to my friends, and especially to Zoey, but I’m not so nice to others. Why should I be? Other people will only stab me in the back. I have only found pain and sorrow with them.
The singing had stopped. I looked up at the treehouse and saw Zoey looking down at me from one of the windows, her bright eyes dimmed with sadness. I mentally kicked myself for brooding around her and climbed up the ladder.
“I worry about you, Ben,” she said as I plopped down on the floor. I just nodded.
“I know, Zo. I worry about you too, too. How can you be so happy when you know you’re dying?”
“Well,” she said with a shrug, “we all will die someday. If I had taken the treatments and possibly survived cancer, I would still die.”
“But, Zoey, you could have had a better life once the treatment was over! Sure, you would still die someday, but you could live longer!”
She smiled gently and shook her head. “I could, Ben,” she said, and that was all. We stayed silent for a moment. I was deep in thought and she was just looking at me wisely.
“I don’t want you to die, Zoey.”
Her eyes turned sad. She nodded and stood, then crossed over to the window. The silence that followed descended on the treehouse like a thick fog, but I didn’t dare break it. After a long while, Zoey finally turned around and looked at me, and I was stunned to see that tears were filling her eyes. Her bottom lip quivered slightly, trying to hold in the cry that desperately wanted out.
“I…I don’t want to die either, Ben,” she said. She dived into my arms then and sobbed into my chest. I let her and did not disturb her. I just wrapped my arms around her gently and held her comfortingly. She finally calmed after a while and sat up, sniffling and wiping her eyes.
“I don’t want to die,” she said thickly, “but this is the road I have chosen, and it is too late to go back.”
Another awkward silence fell. Finally she turned and smiled gently, resting her hand on my shoulder.
“Ben, life is like a wave in the ocean. It ebbs and it flows, eventually coming to crash on the beach.”
I looked at her curiously. Every now and then, Zoey could say something really wise and I wouldn’t understand a word of it.
“What do you mean?”
She laughed gently. “What I mean is that life has its bad times and its good times, but the end is inevitable. You were right in saying that I could have lived longer had I taken treatment, but as I said, the end would still come. That is why we should not focus on the end, but on today.
Today, I am still here. Today, I am still your best friend. Today we still have, so why not enjoy it?”
I smiled at that. She was right. I pulled my notebook out of my bag and winked.
“Sounds good to me, but we should probably do this homework first.”
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Lessons from Zoey (Pt. 1)
"Zoey," the balding man in the white coat said, "I'm sorry. You have cancer."
I felt the air sucked out of the room at his words. Zoey had cancer? It wasn't fair! She was only seventeen, and had so much to give to the world.
I looked over at her and her parents. They looked devastated, but Zoey just nodded.
"How long do I have?" she asked.
"Well," the doctor replied, "if you go through treatment, you might come out of it and survive."
"And what if I don't?"
"Judging by how far along it is," the doctor said slowly, "you have three months."
That was one month ago. Zoey had decided not to go through treatment. I still can't understand why. We've been best friends all our lives, and I thought I knew her. I guess I have more to learn...
Zoey was always a very happy person. She was very rarely seen without a smile on her face and a spring in her step, even facing her death as she is now.
She was a bit short, around five feet and two inches. A petite girl of seventeen. Her hair was light brown and shone almost like gold in the sun. It extended down to the middle of her back. Her nose was small, yet strong, with a little bump in the middle of the bridge. Her bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top, and she had a well-defined cupid's bow. She had wide, hazel eyes that tipped more toward brown than green and always glinted with some hidden joke or mischief, perfectly centered and symmetrical on her face. Her cheekbones were high and pronounced, slightly pink with blush. She never wore make-up. She didn't have to.
I stepped into the school cafeteria and spotted her a few tables away, holding a spork loaded with sweet potato loosely in her hand. She took a bite and smiled softly. Nothing could bring her spirits down.
I walked over and sat across from her, setting my books down on the table. "What's up, Zo?" I asked. She looked up and smiled brightly.
"Ben! I'm doing alright. Just enjoying these sweet potatoes I made. Try some?"
I pulled my spork out of the plastic wrapping and took a bite. Tears came to my eyes as soon as those sweet potatoes met my tastebuds. I was in love with Zoey's cooking.
"Zoey, these are fantastic!" She giggled, and I took another big bite. She raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"I'm glad you like them, but at least save some for me, Benjamin Perkins!"
I blushed and set down my spork. "S-sorry, Zo. I got carried away..."
She looked at me seriously for a moment, then threw her head back and laughed gently.
"It's alright, Ben," she said as she pulled another container from her bag. "I made some for you, too!"
I smiled and thanked her. We ate together in silence for a moment before I spoke again.
"How are you feeling today?"
She shrugged. "I'm feeling alright. My chest has been hurting a bit lately. Otherwise, I'm fine."
"You'd tell me if you weren't, right?"
"Of course I would, Ben."
The bell rang. I packed up my stuff and gave Zoey a hug.
"Meet at our Secret Place after school?" she asked. I nodded and smiled.
"Of course, Zoey. I'll be there."
I felt the air sucked out of the room at his words. Zoey had cancer? It wasn't fair! She was only seventeen, and had so much to give to the world.
I looked over at her and her parents. They looked devastated, but Zoey just nodded.
"How long do I have?" she asked.
"Well," the doctor replied, "if you go through treatment, you might come out of it and survive."
"And what if I don't?"
"Judging by how far along it is," the doctor said slowly, "you have three months."
That was one month ago. Zoey had decided not to go through treatment. I still can't understand why. We've been best friends all our lives, and I thought I knew her. I guess I have more to learn...
Zoey was always a very happy person. She was very rarely seen without a smile on her face and a spring in her step, even facing her death as she is now.
She was a bit short, around five feet and two inches. A petite girl of seventeen. Her hair was light brown and shone almost like gold in the sun. It extended down to the middle of her back. Her nose was small, yet strong, with a little bump in the middle of the bridge. Her bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top, and she had a well-defined cupid's bow. She had wide, hazel eyes that tipped more toward brown than green and always glinted with some hidden joke or mischief, perfectly centered and symmetrical on her face. Her cheekbones were high and pronounced, slightly pink with blush. She never wore make-up. She didn't have to.
I stepped into the school cafeteria and spotted her a few tables away, holding a spork loaded with sweet potato loosely in her hand. She took a bite and smiled softly. Nothing could bring her spirits down.
I walked over and sat across from her, setting my books down on the table. "What's up, Zo?" I asked. She looked up and smiled brightly.
"Ben! I'm doing alright. Just enjoying these sweet potatoes I made. Try some?"
I pulled my spork out of the plastic wrapping and took a bite. Tears came to my eyes as soon as those sweet potatoes met my tastebuds. I was in love with Zoey's cooking.
"Zoey, these are fantastic!" She giggled, and I took another big bite. She raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"I'm glad you like them, but at least save some for me, Benjamin Perkins!"
I blushed and set down my spork. "S-sorry, Zo. I got carried away..."
She looked at me seriously for a moment, then threw her head back and laughed gently.
"It's alright, Ben," she said as she pulled another container from her bag. "I made some for you, too!"
I smiled and thanked her. We ate together in silence for a moment before I spoke again.
"How are you feeling today?"
She shrugged. "I'm feeling alright. My chest has been hurting a bit lately. Otherwise, I'm fine."
"You'd tell me if you weren't, right?"
"Of course I would, Ben."
The bell rang. I packed up my stuff and gave Zoey a hug.
"Meet at our Secret Place after school?" she asked. I nodded and smiled.
"Of course, Zoey. I'll be there."
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