Mourning Song Read online

  Her mother’s expression softened as she gazed down at Dani. “I know what I’m doing, honey. I know what’s best for Cassie. Please trust me.”

  Dani nodded, but only because she realized it was pointless to argue. She would never persuade her mother that a few more days of life for Cassie would not be nearly so welcome as a few days of the three of them doing something fun. Much more welcome than the controlled, gleaming world of hospitals and humming machines.

  Six

  As DANI WAS walking to the bus stop, she heard a horn honk. Austin pulled alongside of her in a van and called, “Hop in.”

  She nodded and quickly got in. “Hi. Thanks for the ride. How come you’re driving the van?”

  “My car’s been acting up, and since Mom and Dad are heading to Haiti for three weeks on a mission trip, they said I could drive this.”

  “They left you totally on your own? For three weeks?”

  “Dani, we’ve lived all over the world. This town is no big deal. There are plenty of neighbors around if I need anything. But I know how to cook, clean up, and take care of things.” He flashed her a grin. “I’m an independent guy. Are you impressed, or what?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It really doesn’t bother you to stay alone?”

  “I’ve been doing it for years. When I was little and my folks were preaching in the mission field, I went with them whenever I could, but as I got older, I didn’t always go.”

  “You’re lucky that you’ve gotten to travel so much. I’ve never been anyplace except my grandparents’ farm in Iowa.”

  “You’re one up on me—I’ve never been to Iowa!”

  “Maybe it’s true, a person always wants what he doesn’t have.”

  “Profound.” Austin let out a low whistle. “You’ve just summed up thousands of years of the human predicament.”

  They rode in silence for a while. Finally, Austin asked, “So, what’s the matter? Is it Cassie?”

  Dani sighed. “Cassie’s not going to graduate with her class. Mom asked the school board, but they said she’d missed so much school—she hasn’t done much of anything academically since she got sick in January.”

  “That’s lousy,” Austin grumbled.

  Dani shrugged, although she’d been furious when her mother first told her. “Mom was upset, but she didn’t press the point and decided not to make a case because then Cassie might find out she’s dying, and Mom doesn’t want her to know it yet.”

  “What did your mother tell her?”

  “That she could make up the work over the summer.”

  “And Cassie bought that?”

  “The medication Cassie takes makes her spacey. She just accepted it.”

  “School will be out soon,” Austin observed. “Maybe the summer will go better for her.”

  Dani longed for the end of school, but also dreaded it. Every day that passed, meant one day less for her sister. “Mom’s insisting that Cassie stay on the radiation, even though it keeps her sick as a dog. She wants to continue with treatments till the bitter end.”

  “I guess it makes her feel like she’s doing something,” Austin ventured. “Sometimes doing anything feels better than doing nothing.”

  Dani realized how much it bothered her that there was nothing to do—nothing that she could do for her sister. A complete stranger had offered Cassie an enormous amount of money. Sure, it was Cassie’s to spend, but maybe she could help Cassie figure out something worth spending it on, something only for Cassie.

  Austin pulled into the parking lot and found a space. “You getting out,” Austin asked, “or are you daydreaming?”

  “I hate going in there,” Dani grumbled as she stared over at the school.

  “Everybody’s sick of school this time of the year. Just a few more weeks till summer vacation. You can make it.”

  “It’s not that. It’s so many things, but I can’t discuss them now.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well at school, it’s the way kids act around me. Whenever I walk by Cassie’s friends in the halls, I hear them whispering about her. It makes me angry. Even her close friends don’t come by the hospital much anymore. I think it’s mean and cruel. It’s not as if they’re going to catch her tumor. Don’t they know how lonely she gets?”

  “Don’t be too hard on everybody,” Austin said.

  She whipped around, glaring at him. “How can you defend them? You’ve heard them talking about her—as if she were some kind of freak.”

  “Don’t get mad at me. I’m one of the good guys, remember?”

  Grudgingly, she agreed. “I’m not mad at you. Just them.”

  “Most people—especially kids—don’t know how to act around someone who’s really sick. No one’s ever taught them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve grown up in a lot of countries,” he explained. “A lot of cultures. In America, kids never think about sickness and dying. They all think they’re going to live forever. You go to movies where people get blown away like dust. Then, a week later, you see the same actor walking around in another flick until he gets blown away all over again.”

  “Nothing seems real. Is that what you’re saying?” Dani asked.

  Austin’s face turned serious as he continued. “We were in India for a year, and I saw a funeral procession go by every day. It was as common as a traffic jam is over here. You develop a different perspective on things like that when they’re a regular part of your life. You don’t freak out. It’s just the way things are. People are born. People get sick. People die. Every minute of the day.

  “In the good old US of A, people don’t want to talk about these things. And when they have to, they don’t know what to say, or how to act. No one ever thinks it can happen to him or to someone he cares about. And if it does—well, it’s easier to try to ignore it or even act silly about it. To someone who is facing the terrible reality, it seems that people don’t care—when they honestly don’t know how to act.”

  His observations made sense, but Dani still found it hard to forgive Cassie’s friends. “They could at least call her once in a while just to say, I don’t know what to say. ’ That would be better than pretending she doesn’t exist.”

  “I agree,” he said. “But how are we going to change the world, Dani? Who’s going to tell them how much it hurts?”

  She didn’t have an answer. She was hardly a crusader and wasn’t sure anyone would listen to her even if she tried. She felt an overwhelming urge to cry. The tardy bell rang, and she opened the van door. As she hopped out, she said, “Thanks for the lift.”

  “Wait up. Would you like to do something after school?”

  “I’m going right to the hospital.”

  “I could take you.” He caught her arm. “Come on, Dani. I know it’s bad for you, but don’t run off.”

  Tears burned hot behind her eyes. She didn’t want to have a crying fit in the school parking lot. She didn’t want Austin to see her lose control. “I can catch the bus.”

  He kept hold of her arm and pulled her to him until she was captured against his broad, solid chest. It felt good to have somebody to lean on. She didn’t pull away.

  “Meet me here at three, and I’ll drive you to the hospital,” he told her. “You don’t have to do this alone, Dani.”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice. He walked her into the building, his arm over her shoulder like a protective shield.

  Seven

  THAT AFTERNOON THEY arrived at the hospital and found Dani’s mother looking frantic. “Mom! What happened?”

  “Cassie had a convulsion. I’d just arrived. Nathan’s in with her now.” She buried her face in her hands.

  Dani’s knees felt rubbery. “Is she—is she—” Dani couldn’t get the words out. Dr. Phillips emerged from Cassie’s room, looking grim.

  “I’ve put Cassie on an antiseizure medication. We’ll put her in Intensive Care for the night for closer observation.”

  “I thought she w
as dying.” Mom quietly cried, and as Dr. Phillips took her hand to try to calm her, Dani realized her mother felt as helpless as she did.

  Dani leaned against the wall, trying not to imagine Cassie thrashing uncontrollably on her bed.

  “Could it happen again?” Dani heard her mother ask.

  “Now that she’s on the anticonvulsant, we think not.”

  “Has she suffered any permanent damage?”

  “I don’t know yet. I want to run another CAT scan and MRI.”

  Dani shivered. She knew how much Cassie disliked the scans. They weren’t painful, but they were frightening. Cassie had explained that for the CAT scan, she had to lie perfectly still on a hard metal bed that moved slowly through a metal cylinder. She’d confided, “They put your head into some kind of bracelike contraption. The technicians are in another room, running the controls, so you’re all alone with nothing but bright lights and the sounds of machinery. The room’s ice-cold. It’s all so impersonal, and you feel so vulnerable. I really hate it.”

  “Once she’s stable, she’ll come out of the ICU and back down to her room.” Dr. Phillip’s voice broke into Dani’s thoughts. “Catherine, are you all right?”

  I’m frightened. From one day to the next, I don’t know what to expect.”

  “Why don’t you come up to the ICU while the nurses move Cassie,” the doctor suggested.

  Mom turned to Dani and Austin. “I think I’d better stay. Dani, why don’t you go home.”

  “I’ll take her home, Mrs. Vanoy. Don’t worry.”

  Dani saw Cassie, who was heavily sedated and asleep, and then rode back to her house with Austin. “Would you like to come in?” she asked, realizing she wanted company.

  “Sure. And if you’ve got a blender, I’ll whip up one of my famous shakes.”

  “I don’t want anything.”

  “You need to eat.”

  “Who are you, my mother?” She stalked away from the van and into the house.

  He followed and caught up with her inside. He turned on some lights and made her sit on the sofa with him. “I wish there were something I could do for you,” he said.

  “There’s nothing anyone can do. My sister’s going to die, and all we can do is stand around and wait. Crazy, isn’t it? You want to do something for me, and that’s nice, but you can’t. I want to do something for her.”

  “The two of you are pretty close, aren’t you?”

  “Cassie’s always been there for me. We hardly ever fought when we were growing up. When I hear kids say how much they hate their sisters or brothers, I can’t understand it. Things weren’t perfect when we were younger, but we always got along. I remember once when I was eleven and got the flu, Cassie made me tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. I’ll never forget how good she was to me that day.”

  “You’re lucky,” Austin said. “I always wanted brothers and sisters, but I never got any. For my parents, work is their second child.” He didn’t sound bitter. “They feel their work is noble work—saving mankind—it’s easy to get caught up in it, I guess. And in their life they’ve made time for me.”

  Dani realized that Austin had grown up to be a loner because he’d always spent so much time alone. He obviously wasn’t antisocial. She liked that he was sensitive and kind. She appreciated him so much, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have much experience with boys. Her emotions were so mixed up that she didn’t know what she was feeling for him. “The doctors were supposed to save Cassie, but they can’t. All the things they know, and none of it can save my sister. My mother thinks Dr. Phillips is going to find some miracle. Fat chance.”

  Austin smiled ruefully. “That’s why there’s the other kind of saving, I guess. That’s my missionary upbringing, of course. No one can be saved from dying, Dani.”

  She knew he was right, but that didn’t make it any easier. “It just seems so unfair. Cassie had her whole life ahead of her.”

  “I know it doesn’t make sense now, but one day it will. That’s what faith is all about.”

  “You have faith, don’t you, Austin?”

  He nodded. “I know it isn’t cool to admit such a thing, but it’s true.”

  She envied him. All her life, she’d thought she had faith, but now, in the darkness of Cassie’s dying, she felt lost and alone. Where was her faith now that she needed it?

  Austin put his arm around her shoulder. She leaned against him, feeling weak. “Faith is a light that won’t go out, Dani. It may get dim, it may even be hard to see because it’s so dark, but it won’t go out if you don’t let it.”

  She sat with him in the soft yellow light of the living room, hoping to ignite the candle of her faith with his, while the sound of silence settled around them.

  After Austin left, Dani climbed the stairs and prepared for bed. Her mother wasn’t home yet. Dani went down the hall to Cassie’s room and stood forlornly in the doorway. They had shared the room until Cassie had turned six and started school. She remembered the day her father had moved her into the third bedroom, which they’d used as a playroom up until that time. Dani had sobbed, not wanting to be separated from Cassie.

  It was Cassie who had consoled her. “I’ll read you a story every night.” And for a long time, she did. At least until Dani could read by herself. But by then her father was dead and Mom worked full time and both girls had to go to day care every afternoon.

  Dani entered the room and walked over to her sister’s study desk. On top lay several college catalogues, including one for the University of South Florida in Tampa, where Cassie had marked the Marine Biology section. Dani’s heart ached. She recalled the times Cassie had talked of college and of her dreams about working with sea life.

  On Cassie’s dresser were bows, barrettes and hair ribbons. Dani fingered them, realizing that Cassie would have no need of them now. She had no hair. Angrily, Dani yanked open the top drawer and shoved the offending hair paraphernalia inside. If only there was something she could do for her sister. Something grand and wonderful and memorable that would make her happy.

  Sadly, Dani gazed about the room at her sister’s belongings—her books, posters, photos, furniture. How empty the room looked without Cassie to bring it to life. Dani knew that Cassie’s time was short, but Cassie didn’t know it yet. She still had hopes and dreams. If only there was some way that Dani could snag one of Cassie’s dreams and make it come true for her. If only …

  Eight

  THE SEIZURE LEFT Cassie partially paralyzed on one side, and the newest scans and X rays showed that the radiation treatments had not slowed the growth of the tumor. Dani thought both pieces of news were cruel, but seeing Cassie struggling to speak, hold a fork, even walk, seemed more terrible.

  Cassie grew despondent, and nothing anyone did cheered her up. Her gait looked peculiar because she dragged her left foot. She referred to herself as Igor, like the character in old horror movies. Dani knew that no matter how much headway Cassie made, it was simply a matter of time before the tumor’s growth would win.

  The following week, Austin took Dani to see Cassie at the hospital, but when they arrived at the door of her room, they heard the sounds of Cassie retching. Upset for her sister, Dani pushed Austin backward. “Maybe you’d better wait down the hall.”

  “Sure. Take as long as you want.” He backed off, and she went into Cassie’s room alone.

  Two nurses were there. One held a basin, the other was helping Cassie lean forward. They spoke in encouraging voices, but Dani could hear little except Cassie’s gagging and moaning. Each sound stabbed at her heart. When it was over, the nurses helped Cassie lie back. One offered Dani a sympathetic smile and said, “It’s only a side effect. She had radiation today. She’ll be all right as soon as she adjusts.”

  Only a side effect. Dani trembled, almost sick herself from the odors in the room and a sense of helplessness. The nurses left, and Dani stood over her sister, wondering if Cassie even knew she was there. Cassie’s cheeks looked hollow, and
her skin was gray. Pale blue veins shone through the thin skin of her eyelids. Dani watched as Cassie’s parched lips tried to form words. She bent closer. “I’m right here, sis.”

  Cassie’s lips moved, but still Dani could hear no sound. She leaned far down, until her ear brushed Cassie’s lips. “Tell me,” Dani begged.

  “No more,” Cassie whispered. “Please. Tell them, no more.”

  Dani felt as if her heart might fragment into a million pieces. “I’ll beat ’em off with a stick for you.”

  Cassie tried to smile, but the shape of her mouth crumpled and tears slid slowly from the corners of her eyes. “What did I do to deserve this? Was I an evil person? Did I offend God somehow and now I’m being punished?”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Dani insisted. “This just happened to you.” She longed to say something encouraging to her sister, something profound and meaningful. All she could think of were cliches that sounded hollow.

  Cassie turned her face toward Dani. “People say that suffering is supposed to make you a better person. That in the darkest times, a person has hope. I remember when Daddy died—how hopeless I felt. At first, I didn’t think I could go on living without him.”

  “But you did. We all did.” Dani remembered the horrible sense of loss she’d felt once she realized their father was never coming home again. “You have to hang on, Cassie. You have to keep going no matter how bad it hurts.”

  Cassie squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m trying,” she whispered. “There’re so many things I want to do with my life. So much I want to see. I want to feel something besides pain and see something besides these hospital walls. There’s a whole world right outside and I can’t be a part of it. I want my life to count for something, Dani. I don’t want to die before I get to do some of the things I’ve always wanted to do. Is that so wrong?”