Someone Dies, Someone Lives Page 10

  “It sounded to me as if some of them wanted to, though.”

  “Are you glad you do?” His gaze was serious, and Katie stopped swaying with the music.

  “You know I am.”

  “When I looked at them, I couldn’t help wondering if any of them might hold parts of Aaron.” She could tell he was troubled, and unable to put into words what he was feeling. “Can we take a walk?” he asked.

  “Let me tell my parents,” Katie said. She scanned the crowded floor and saw them standing at a far corner. Her mother was wrapped in her dad’s arms, her eyes closed, her head resting on his shoulder. He was holding her tightly, stroking her hair with one hand. They seemed to be dancing to music only they could hear.

  “I don’t think they’ll miss us,” Josh said.

  “Me, either.” The picture of them warmed Katie. They looked happy together once again.

  Katie walked with Josh across the lawn, away from the buildings, and into a cluster of trees. The sounds from the band grew fainter, and above, through the branches of pine trees, she could see the stars, spread out like diamonds on black velvet. When they stopped, Josh angled himself against a tree trunk. He took hold of both her hands.

  “You still miss Aaron, don’t you?” Katie asked, breaking the silence, urging him to talk about his feelings.

  “It’s been hard without him, all right. He was my big brother, and he took care of me.”

  “The way you take care of me?”

  A ghost of a smile crossed Josh’s face. “He never nagged the way I do.” Josh sobered. “Katie, Aaron was more than my brother. He was more like my father.”

  Katie’s heart thudded. She’d wondered about his family a million times. “How so? Did he help raise you?”

  “He protected me.”

  “From what?”

  “Not everybody has parents who care the way yours do, Katie.”

  “You had a bad home life?” The idea was foreign to her.

  “Both my parents are alcoholics.” He took a long, shuddering breath. “Pop beat up on Mom all the time.”

  Horrified, Katie asked, “You and Aaron, too?”

  “No—just her. Over the years, I lost all respect for her because she wouldn’t leave him, not even now, when she can. It’s like a trap she can’t get out of … that she doesn’t want out of. I don’t understand her, or him.”

  Josh shook his head to clear out the painful memories. “Whenever she wound up in the hospital, Aaron took care of the two of us. He cooked, did laundry … whatever needed doing.”

  “It’s hard to believe you had a violent home life. You’re so gentle, Josh.”

  He looked into her eyes. “That’s Aaron’s doing, too. He tried to stick up for Mom. He used to tell me that we shouldn’t ever think beating up on somebody was okay. When he was fifteen, he started going to Al-Anon meetings, and he took me with him.” Katie knew vaguely that Al-Anon was the support group for families of alcoholics. “There, we both learned how not to be like our father.”

  Katie’s heart was breaking for him. No wonder the loss of Aaron had been so difficult for him! He’d lost his only true family when Aaron died. “You’re the most wonderful person I know, Josh.”

  He toyed with the flower behind her ear. “I wish Aaron could have known you. I wish he could have known where his heart ended up.”

  “He does,” she whispered. Without taking her eyes from Josh’s face, she lifted his hand and placed it gently beneath her left breast, against the top of her ribcage. She knew he could feel the distinct thumping of her heart, just as she was feeling it. “This heart is only an organ, Josh. A very special pump, issued at birth to every living being. The person of Aaron isn’t alive inside this piece of tissue. He’s alive inside you. You’re the one keeping Aaron alive, not me. And so long as you remember him, he’ll always be alive.”

  Josh concentrated on the throb of Katie’s beating heart beneath his palm, the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her blouse. Without taking his gaze from her beautiful face, he said, “I love you, Katie.”

  “And I love you.” She knew it was true. She loved Josh Martel from the depths of her soul.

  “I have a present for you,” he said.

  “For me?”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, flat box. Eagerly, she tore off the paper and raised the lid. The moonlight caught on a thin silver chain holding a heart-shaped locket. “I thought you could add it to your heart collection,” he said. “Along with Aaron’s and mine.”

  Katie felt tears swimming in her eyes. “It’s so beautiful. Thank you.” She could scarcely breathe as he fastened it around her neck.

  “This is really for tomorrow,” he said. “After you win that race.” Josh slipped his arms around her and lowered his lips to hers.

  Katie held her breath, closed her eyes, and savored the sensation of his mouth against hers. “Is it like kissing your brother?” she teased, pulling slightly back.

  “Not even close,” he told her, then kissed her again.

  Eighteen

  KATIE WALKED AROUND the track in the Parade of Athletes, waving at cheering fans. She felt the sun’s warmth on her head and shoulders, and the soft summer breeze in her hair. Seeing her fellow competitors dressed in bright, colorful athletic gear filled her with an overwhelming sense of pride and exuberance. I made it! she told herself. Thank you, JWC. Because of the One Last Wish Foundation, in a few hours she would be competing against some fifteen other female athletes in the thousand-meter foot race.

  She waved to the crowd as her gaze drifted upward to the Olympic torch positioned high above the stands, directly below the scoreboard of the UCLA stadium. Minutes before, a ten-year-old kidney recipient had run from the tunnel, carrying a lighted flare. Katie could still feel the remains of the lump in her throat as she’d watched the boy jog around the track, sprint up the stairs, and light the flame, signifying the start of the Games.

  As she rounded the final turn of the parade, she saw Josh hanging over the wall of the stands. Elsewhere in the crowd, she knew her parents were watching. They had come to breakfast that morning in the hotel restaurant smiling contentedly, causing Katie and Josh to exchange sly, knowing glances. Katie realized that at some point during the previous night, they’d resolved all their differences. She was grateful to JWC for that, too.

  Once the parade broke up and the various events began, Josh leapt down from the wall and came over to her. “You doing all right?” he asked.

  “I’m nervous.”

  He draped a towel around her neck, “The way I figure it, you’ve only got about three serious contenders in your race. One woman’s from Maine, and she’s very good. She’s an international runner with a lot of visibility.”

  Katie’s heart sank. She’d known when she’d elected to run in the senior women’s category instead of the junior one that it would be tough going, but she’d wanted to really test herself, not just take a win. “And the others?” she asked.

  “They’re of similar caliber—very good and very seasoned.”

  “I’m not going to change categories,” Katie said.

  “I didn’t expect you to. I’m only telling you what you’re up against. These women have run in this race before, and the one from Maine, Fran Bonita, won the Outstanding Female Athlete Award for this entire Olympics last year.”

  “Where do people get the idea that transplant recipients are invalids?” Katie grumbled, shaking her head. “I’ll bet some of these athletes could outdo some of the country’s professional, ‘normal’ ones.”

  “I’ll bet you’re right,” Josh said with a grin. “I’m glad I’m not competing—I’d probably get whipped.”

  Katie heard her father hail her from the stands. She followed the wall along the track, stopped, and looked up at him. “You need anything?” her dad asked.

  “I’m fine, Dad,” Katie said, her tone more patient than her attitude. “Josh is keeping an eye on me.”

  “I
figure that your race will wrap up in time for me to fax my column back to the paper,” he told her with a smile.

  “You’re going to write about this?” Katie tried to sound piqued, but secretly, she was pleased.

  “You bet I’m writing about it. The whole world needs to know about these athletes.”

  “And if I just happen to win a race … ?”

  “I’ll give you a quick mention.” He shrugged innocently.

  “Oh, Daddy!”

  He laughed and headed back up to join his wife.

  Josh touched her arm. “You’d better start warming up. Your race is up soon.”

  By the time her race was called, Katie’s muscles were limber, but her stomach was tied in knots. She paced the infield, while Josh encouraged her with a pep talk. “Don’t try to set the pace. Hang back and see how the others are running. When you hear that bell lap, you’ve got to have plenty in reserve. Just remember to kick high all the way to the wire. You’re good, Katie, and I think you can win.”

  “Do you really think I’m good? You’ve never told me that before.”

  “I’ve only seen you run against the clock, but I know you’re good—I’ve read your father’s columns.” His honey-brown eyes twinkled mischievously.

  She slugged his arm. “Wait until I’m a famous runner. Then you’ll wish you’d been nicer to me.”

  Josh’s expression sobered. “You’re going to do just fine out there. Remember, you’ve got a tradition to uphold. Aaron was an athlete, too, so I know you have an athlete’s heart—in more ways than one.”

  Katie raised up and kissed Josh quickly. “Thanks, Coach—see you at the finish line.”

  As Josh watched her jog toward the track, his stomach knotted. She’d worked so hard these past several months, but he had no way of knowing how she would do. He only hoped that she’d run well and not affect her transplanted heart in any way. He realized that he’d been more than her coach for her training process. He’d been her accomplice. If anything happened to her during this race, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. “Hang in there, Katie,” he whispered to himself.

  “And go for the gold.”

  Katie tied her long hair into a ponytail, making certain that her bangs were well off her face. Perspiration trickled down between her shoulder blades. She was more nervous for this race than for any race she’d ever run in high school, including the district finals in her sophomore year.

  As she continued to keep her muscles limber, she cut her eyes sideways toward her opponents. Fran Bonita of Maine was a standout. She was lean and hard-limbed, a fine running machine in prime physical condition. Katie took a deep breath. What had she been thinking about when she’d decided to run in the senior women’s division? She couldn’t compete seriously with grown women!

  A track official blew his whistle and beckoned the runners to the starting line. Katie glanced toward the stands. A sea of cheering faces greeted her, and she felt her adrenaline surge. “In three minutes, it will be all over,” she told herself, taking her place on the line. Months of training all came down to this moment.

  Not all the runners were serious about winning, Katie reminded herself. Some were running simply to say that they had competed. They would be easy to beat. Katie leaned forward, holding her breath, She heard her blood pounding in her ears. She felt like a cat, sleek and taut, ready to test the wind. She knew she was fit, knew that her heart was strong and capable. Eyes straight ahead, she stared down the track to the first turn, plotting her race strategy. The starter’s gun went off, the crowd roared, and Katie sprang forward.

  She quickly settled into her pace, allowing others to pass her, believing the leaders would burn out before the finish. The pack rounded the first turn and stretched out in a line. Katie controlled her breathing, holding the air in her lungs and then releasing it from her diaphragm. She refused to check on her opponents, knowing it could undermine her own race. From the corner of her eye, she saw a woman coming on strong. Take it easy, she warned herself. It wasn’t Fran.

  Katie concentrated on the feel of her running shoes pounding the surface of the track. She swung her arms and kept her body under rigid mental control. The wind whipped her face, her breaths came fast and deep. The crowd and its noise evaporated as she focused all her energy on the race.

  She came around the track twice, continuing to gauge her pace, holding back, reining in, saving herself for the final surge that must come down the stretch for the finish line. Timing was everything. Too fast and she’d burn out, have nothing left in reserve. Not fast enough and she’d fall too far behind to catch the leaders. Mentally, she heard Josh’s voice from all her months of training. “Hold back,” he’d shout. Or “Pump, pump!”

  The din of the bell lap sounded, and Katie knew it was time to make her move. She reached deep and stretched further. She pulled past the front-runner and cut to the inside lane. She could see the finish line, could feel the victory, when from out of nowhere, she saw the flying arms of Fran Bonita. She was going to catch her, pass her. Katie felt a moment of panic. She was giving all she had, and still the woman beside her was pulling ahead.

  “Reach, Katie, reach!” Through a haze, she heard Josh’s voice loud and strong. She ran hard. Her lungs screamed in protest, but Katie paid them no heed. She felt her heart pounding, and in that moment, she saw the face of Aaron Martel in her mind’s eye. He was grinning, as in his graduation photo, urging her on, propelling her forward. Suddenly, it was as if she’d grown wings. Katie pressed her body forward, and like an arrow splitting the wind, her chest hit the tape a full length in front of her opponent.

  Nineteen

  AS SHE CROSSED the finish line, Katie heard the roar of the crowd through the rushing surge of blood in her ears. A track official hurried over to her, his stopwatch in his hand. “Are you all right, girl? I think you broke some records! What a sensational race!”

  Katie gasped for air, nodding, trying to clear her head and regain control of her pounding heart. Suddenly, she was caught from behind, spun, and scooped up in Josh’s arms. “You won, Katie! You won, big-time!”

  She tried to smile, but her legs felt rubbery and she couldn’t catch her breath.

  “Give her some room,” Josh yelled to the crowd gathering around her. He walked with her, rubbing her shoulders and wrapping a wet towel over her neck. “You okay?”

  “Never better,” Katie managed between puffs of air. “It felt so good, Josh. So good to run. I didn’t think I was going to pull ahead in the stretch, but then I thought about Aaron, and it was as if he were with me. He gave me that extra edge to punch through.”

  Josh squeezed her shoulders. “You did it, Katie. It was your race, your heart.”

  She felt someone nudge her and turned to see a sweat-streaked Fran Bonita. The woman held out her hand. “You were awesome,” Fran said. “I’ve run in a lot of races and faced some keen competition. I never expected to face a runner of your caliber at a place like the Transplant Games. Congratulations.”

  Katie shook her hand, feeling dazzled. “You were a great incentive,” she said.

  “I hope to meet you on the track again.”

  “Next year!” she called as Fran walked away.

  Fran turned and grinned. “For sure.”

  Katie saw her parents rushing toward her. For a moment, she chilled, unsure of how they were going to react. Her mother threw her arms around her. “You were wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!”

  “You aren’t mad?”

  “I’m furious, but what can I do about it?” Her mother was smiling and crying at the same time. “I’m so proud of you, honey. You always said you were born to run.” She hugged Katie again.

  Her father ruffled her hair, his face a beaming smile. “You’re some runner, Katie O’Roark. It’s official—you came within two-tenths of the women’s collegiate record for the thousand-meter. And you’re only sixteen! I’m speechless.”

  “I doubt that!” Katie said, laughing.

&
nbsp; Later, when she stood on the platform for the medal ceremony, Katie’s eyes swept the crowd. This time, she picked out her parents instantly. They were holding a banner that read: KATIE GOT THE GOLD. She grinned.

  Josh stood below the platform on the bright green grass. He gave her a thumbs-up as the officials slipped the gold medal around her neck. Katie knew it wasn’t a real gold medal like from the official Olympics, but nothing could convince her that it meant any less. For an instant, she felt time stand still as she savored the sweetness of her victory, then she raised both arms above her head, and the crowd went wild with cheering.

  The next evening at the closing banquet, Katie felt pangs of regret. “It’s hard to believe it’s all over,” she remarked to Josh and her parents.

  “We’ve all had a great time,” her mother said. “I’m very glad we came.” She and Katie exchanged looks of understanding, each remembering their argument about the Wish money. Wherever JWC was, Katie hoped he or she knew how much joy the money had given to Katie and her family. She still longed to meet her benefactor, but was certain by this time that she never would. For whatever reason, JWC had chosen to remain anonymous. Silently, Katie wished her secret philanthropist the best that life could bring.

  “Are you Katie O’Roark?”

  The man’s question snapped Katie from her musings. She looked up to see a large, heavyset man. “Yes, I am.”

  “I’m Phil Stoner, women’s track coach at Arizona State.” He nodded greetings to Josh and her parents. “I was pretty impressed by what I saw you do on the track yesterday.”

  Katie smiled. “Thanks—I love to run.”

  “That was obvious,” he said with a laugh. “The Good Lord made you fast, Katie, and medical science gave you a new life.”

  “A heart,” she said, wondering if he, too, was a transplant recipient.

  Almost as if he’d read her mind, the coach added, “My son over there got a kidney eight years ago.” He motioned toward a man in his thirties, sitting with a young woman and three little girls. “Jim was dying. He’d been on dialysis for two years, but his kidneys continued to fail. He was leaving behind his family, his whole future.”