Breathless (8 page)

E
ver since Travis asked me to help him end his life, it’s all I think about. I’m on edge, and my temper’s out of control. I get into trouble at school. Punched a guy in gym for mouthing off to me. An automatic suspension, but no one rats me out. Smart, because all I want is an excuse to pound on somebody.

I argue with Travis. I tell him I don’t want to go through with his plan even though I get his logic. He’s shown me stuff from the Internet about death-with-dignity and right-to-die groups like the Final Exit Network and Compassion & Choices. He’s shown me the aid-in-dying law that’s part of Oregon’s state legislation, and examples of euthanasia programs in Holland, Switzerland, and
Belgium. “It’s civilized,” Travis says. “It gives a person a choice over their exit from planet Earth. What’s wrong with that?”

“It doesn’t feel civilized,” I tell him. But he won’t stop pushing me to help him. For him it’s a head game, a competition, like going after medals in a diving meet: This is what I want. This is how I’m going to get it. “You’re playing God,” I tell him. I know he believes in that religion stuff.

“You don’t believe in God,” he tells me.

“Well, Emily does. Would she approve?”

“But Emily isn’t going to know, is she? It’s just between you and me, bro. My family will never know how it goes down. It’ll be an accident. Got that?”

His parents won’t even consent to a DNR, something that makes sense to me. It’s something I’d want if I were in his place. “What about Darla? You going to tell her?”

His face clouds. “Probably not. She works pretty hard to keep me happy.” He shakes his head. “But I hate keeping it from her too.”

“Don’t you think Darla and Emily will figure it out once it’s over?”

“Maybe they will. Maybe they won’t. You’d never tell them.”

“And don’t you think it will wreck them both?”

“I can’t think about that.” He’s pushed back in his dad’s recliner; he’s just skin and bones, a far cry from the champion athlete I once knew. “I know what I’m asking puts you in a tough place, Coop, but if you just leave me on the platform in the lake, if you take the boat back to shore, if you just play dumb, no one will blame you.”

I think, I’ll blame me. Does he get how final death is? No turning back. My mouth is sour, and I chase away the taste with a swallow of beer. “You have a time line?”

“Depends on if Darla gets the lead in that play If she does—well, I wouldn’t want to spoil her big moment. I should see her perform.”

“Thoughtful of you.”

He gives me a cold look. “I know you don’t approve, but with or without you, I’m doing this. I’d rather have you with me.”

I’ve had a headache for two weeks, and it’s pounding now. “I don’t know.”

He coughs, finds his breath, and says, “You’ve got until May. Right before finals week.”

“Ironic.”

He grins. “So will you help me?”

Emily asks if I can take her home from the library, which surprises me because she pretty much ignores my existence. She’s all nervous and jumpy when she asks. I tell her I don’t mind, and that’s the truth. I don’t know why that girl gets to me, but she does and always has. She’s nothing like the kind of girl I usually go with.

She doesn’t say much when I pick her up in front of the library, but I know something’s on her mind. When we get to her house, I ask, “You want a ride tomorrow?”

“Sure. If—if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You still working nights?”

“Six nights a week.”

“When do you sleep?”

“First through third periods.”

Her smile is pretty. “Don’t your teachers notice?”

“Trust me, they’d rather have me asleep.”

“Are you going to graduate?”

“Sure. They don’t want me hanging around for another year.”

“So no college?”

I laugh out loud. “No way. I’m through with school.”

“Travis is going to graduate too. More of an honorary degree, Mom says. I wish…” Her voice trails off.

“Pick you up tomorrow,” I say, not wanting to get into anything else with her, not wanting to make her sadder than she already is.

I drive her home for a week. We don’t talk much, but I like her company. I like watching her. She plays with the ends of her hair when she’s deep in thought, and she purses her lips when she’s thinking over how she wants to say something that’s important to her. I drive slowly, wanting our togetherness to last. “I don’t mind taking you to church if you want,” I tell her. “I’ll wait in my car while you do your thing with God.”

“No,” she says, twirling her hair around a finger. “I don’t do that anymore.”

Red flag. I hesitate before I ask, “Why?”

“I’ve done all the begging and praying I can do. God’s totally aware of what I want. I’ve told him hundreds of times.”

“But you’re not giving up, are you?”

“I think Travis has.”

Big red flag. “What do you mean?”

“I think he wants to die.”

My heart thuds. Don’t go there. “He’s in a lot of pain. It can wear a person down.”

“I know.”

I shift in the driver’s seat, search for a way to change the subject. “Look, would you like some dinner? Mo’s Pizza Shack is near. I’m thinking a pepperoni, large.”

She looks over at me, hesitates. “Let me call Dad and tell him I won’t be home for supper.”

I can’t help myself. I grin like a fool.

M
o’s smells heavenly, all yeasty-rich with baking crust and cheese and tomato sauce. Cooper and I sit in a booth at the back, and he orders colas and a large pizza. Good as it smells, I’m not sure I can eat a bite. There’s a candle on our table, and it throws flickering shadows across his face. I think he’s gorgeous with his exotic black eyes and brown skin. His hands are huge and rough, but when he shakes hot pepper flakes on the pizza, his hands look gentle. “You mind?” he asks.

“No. I like peppers.”

He devours two slices and I nibble on one, wondering how I’m going to get him to talk about Travis, feeling devious when all I want is to feel
like a girl on her first date. My heart is hammering hard before I get my courage up and ask, “Do you know what’s going on with my brother?”

Cooper stops chewing, drops his half-finished third piece onto his plate. “Why do you ask?”

I’m committed now. “He—he’s keeping secrets from me.”

“Why shouldn’t he have secrets? Any law about not having them?”

“Of course not, but I just have the gut feeling that something serious is going on.”

“Talk to him.”

“Don’t you think I’ve asked him? He won’t tell me. He won’t be honest with me.”

“And so you thought you’d work on me. Dig it out of me.”

The truth hurts, and I squirm. Where is Darla? She should be here. She’d know what to say. “No! I—I mean, I want to know, but that’s not why I came here with you. I like being with you.” My words are true, but even to my ears they sound insincere.

“Sure you do.”

“Please, Cooper …”

He studies my face, his dark, dark eyes
unreadable. My heart beats in triple time, and I want … I want…

“I can’t help you.” He stands, tosses money on the table for the pizza, and says, “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

He’s almost out the door before I can grab my jacket and catch up with him. At his car, he jerks open the passenger door for me. “Get in.”

I hurl myself at him, stand on tiptoe until I’m inches from his body. “You’ve got to listen to me. This isn’t about me or you. I’m going crazy. He’s my brother! He’s been there all my life.” I begin to tremble. “We’re a part of each other. If you know something, tell me what it is.”

Cooper’s face is hard as stone. Did he even hear me? “If you want information about Travis, ask him, not me.”

I know what a tough spot I’ve put him in—tell a secret, betray a friend. It isn’t fair, but I had to try. And now, more than ever, I’m frightened for my brother, more scared than in any bad dream I’ve ever had.

Cooper drives slowly. Night has fallen, and street-lamps make puddles of light on the street and sidewalk.
Alexander is a small city, with only a few streets along our downtown. The street he takes is off the main drag. The silence between us is a cold wall. I don’t know what to say to make things better. I want information, that’s true, but I like being with Cooper, and I don’t want him to hate me. In my heart, I like him despite my mother’s warnings. If Darla’s right about his liking me, I’ve ruined it.

All of a sudden, Cooper veers the car to the curb and jumps out. “Wait here!”

Alarmed, I shout, “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer. I watch him run across the street toward two men and a woman. The woman is being shoved between the men, and just before Cooper gets to them, one of the men strikes the woman hard across the face. Then Cooper is in the middle of them, pushing the men aside and yelling, fists flying. He punches and kicks them in a fury until they flee. The woman slumps. Cooper scoops her up in his arms and carries her to the car.

“Get the door, Emily.”

I scramble to open it.

He settles her across the backseat and comes
around and gets in the car. He’s breathing hard and he’s bleeding over his eye. The woman in the back whimpers.

“Who is she?”

He turns the key. “My mother.”

I can hardly get my mind around what’s just happened. I’ve never met his mother, and now to meet her like this—

“I have to take her home.”

“Sure. Yes. Should she see a doctor?”

“She doesn’t need a doctor. She’s a drunk, Emily.”

“And those two men?”

“Johns.”

I know what the word means.

He glances over at me. “You’re not going to feel sorry for me, are you?”

In a flash, I understand things about Cooper I never have before, and how Travis has protected him because that’s what friends do. I know Cooper’s pride is at stake. I regroup quickly. “Of course not. Those men were horrible! Hitting a woman like that. Good thing you came along.”

“No biggie.”

He pulls into a trailer park and up to a small trailer. I can see its outline in the dark. “Wait here,” he says. He takes the woman, his mother, out of the car. With his help, she can stand.

She peers at me. “Are you Coop’s girlfriend?” Her words are slurry, but she doesn’t seem hurt.

“She’s Travis’s sister,” he tells her.

“Hello,” she says, like I’m some long-lost relative. “I always liked your mama. A nice lady. Pitching in to help when Coop was a little guy. He was little once, you know.” She pats her son’s chest and laughs. She’s tiny, with almond-shaped eyes and matted black hair. “Isn’t my Coop the best?”

“I’ll be right back,” Cooper tells me.

I watch him guide her to the trailer and take her inside.

“Yes, he is.” There’s no one to hear, but I answer her question anyway.

O
ne quiet afternoon, I tell Darla everything. We’re alone in the house, lying together in my bed, skin against skin, April rain sliding down the windows. The soft sound hums, and Darla’s arms make me feel safe. I didn’t intend to tell her, but the words slip out, a confession from my soul to my soul mate. She doesn’t freak out. She listens, smoothing my hair, which is regrowing for the third time since my diagnosis. I feel dampness on my chest. “Don’t cry,” I tell her. “This is good. It’s my choice. It’s what I want.”

“I knew something was going on inside you. Emily thinks so too. You can’t fool girls who love you.” She doesn’t stop crying. “What about what I want? I want you. For as long as possible.”

“My latest labs aren’t good, baby. My doc keeps trying, though.” My whole chest is sore and raw from where the shunt is inserted for the toxic drugs. “I’m slipping no matter what he does. One day they’ll rush me to the hospital and I’ll be hooked up to machines that will keep me alive longer than I need to be. I don’t want to go out that way.” I kiss her forehead. “I’m tired. I hurt all the time.”

Now that Darla knows, I feel freer, like a weight’s been lifted. “I just want control of my life again. Tell me you understand.”

She nods, but the tears don’t stop. “When?”

“Soon.” I fudge my answer.

“You’ll tell me before, won’t you? I—I won’t have to hear it from your family?”

“I’ll tell you.”

“Cooper knows, doesn’t he?”

“And you. That’s all.”

“You should tell your sister.”

“Fat chance. She’ll tell Mom and Dad.”

“I’m not so sure. I think she’d understand.”

“I can’t argue with her. I don’t have the energy for it. It’s just better that she not know.”

Darla raises her head and looks up at me. Her
tears have made tracks down her pretty face. “Will it hurt?”

It takes me a second to figure out what she’s asking. “No. It won’t hurt. I’ll make it simple.”

“And you’re not scared?”

A hard question, so I take a while to answer. “I was twelve the first time I climbed up on the platform and looked down. Me and my friends were at the city pool, and they were all daring me to go up and jump off. They thought I’d chicken out. I climbed to the top and looked over the edge, and my heart was going a million miles an hour. I wasn’t scared. All I wanted to do was fly And I went off the edge and it was magic. Just me and the air singing past me. I felt like an arrow. I got lucky when I hit the water, because I didn’t break any bones. I touched the bottom of the pool and kicked back up feeling like a million bucks. Couldn’t hear anything except my own heart beating like a drum.

“Later, Cooper told me the lifeguard was blowing his whistle and screaming because no one under fourteen was supposed to dive from the platform. I was banned from the pool for the rest of the summer, but I knew I’d found my life’s
purpose. Swim club, the swim team, summers at the lake were for one purpose. I wanted to be the best diver in the state, and someday maybe the best in the country.”

I flip Darla’s bangs from her forehead, stroke her cheek. “So no, I’m not afraid. Just me and the water. The way I’ve always wanted it to be.”

My parents sit me down and tell me what they think is good news. Mom says, “I’m taking you to Switzerland. You’ve been admitted into an experimental testing program. It lasts six months and shows a lot of promise for stubborn cases like yours.”