Authors: Elise Koepke
“Cavities.”
“See?” Marie said. “You go right to the negative. All right, how about marriage?”
“Divorce.”
“School?”
“Homework.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Heartbreak.”
“Jewelry?”
“Robbery.”
“Oh Anna, can’t you think of
anything
positive?”
Savannah thought about this for a minute. Maybe she
was
cynical. “That’s so weird … I don’t know how I got this way.”
Marie looked at her for a minute, and then said, “I think I know why.” When Savannah’s eyes met hers she said, “I think it’s because of your dad.”
“What?” Savannah laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”
Marie shrugged. “But look at the facts, Anna. When you were younger and your dad was still alive, you used to play dress up and dolls with me all the time. We would pretend we were princesses whose princes would be coming to rescue them from the fire-breathing dragon. But when your father died you stopped doing those things. You stopped pretending anything and focused more on the real world. At the age of nine, you were reading biographies on Rosa Parks and John D. Rockefeller as opposed to the other kids, who were reading fairytales about Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty.” Savannah pointed to a pink chemise as Marie kept searching for the right top. Quickly putting it on, she finished with, “It’s not your fault that you’re so realistic, Anna. It’s just that it would benefit you once in a while to be a bit more … imaginative.”
Letting everything sink in for a minute, Savannah sat in silence as her friend reapplied her make-up for what seemed like the thousandth time. Well, what was so bad about being a realist anyway? She would never have to worry about what’s real and what’s fictitious and could focus on hard facts rather than possibilities. She could spend her time gaining knowledge rather than filling her head with silly stories and impractical games. Most importantly, she would never be disappointed and never get hurt from dreams that would never come true.
Sighing at the alarm clock on her friend’s elegant nightstand, Savannah tried focusing her attention on something other than the time. Marie’s room was the epitome of a teenage girl. Posters of modern movies and the latest pop boy band covered the soft pink walls. Cheery ribbons entwined the sides of the four-poster bed and matched the pastel quilt and sheets. Bottles of perfume, pounds of make-up, and boxes of jewelry were on display all over the room on various trunks, toy chests, and dressers. Shaking her head with a slight chuckle, Savannah wondered how two girls that were so different could be such great friends.
A minute later, Marie walked out of the room and into the bathroom. Then, five minutes later, she walked back in with a large grin on her face. “Okay, are you ready to go?”
Savannah rolled her eyes. “Thankfully it’s only a fifteen-minute walk from here to the movies or else I would have maimed you by now.”
Snatching her purse as she shut off the light and left the room, Marie replied with a simple, “Anna, you couldn’t even hurt a fly.”
Chapter Two
“N
ope, you’re wrong. The best part was definitely when that old lady dropped the piano on top of the zombie,” Marie argued as they walked up the porch steps to the Morgan house. “I mean, come on … an old lady being able to defend herself against the undead? How often do you see that in the movies?” She gave her hair a quick pat, satisfied that it stayed in place for the entire trip to the theater.
After unlocking the front door, Savannah fumbled for the light switch, content when she finally found it and could see where she was walking. “Okay, I’ll give you that one, but I still think that the best part of the whole movie was just him trying to find a Twinkie. It’s so ridiculous that it’s funny!” She locked the door back up once Marie was in and had made her way to the kitchen.
Giggling, the two girls took off their shoes and started pounding up the stairs. Then, realizing Mrs. Morgan might be asleep, Savannah slowed her movements and placed a finger to her lips. “Why don’t you start unpacking,” she began in a whisper, “while I check to see if Mom’s asleep.”
Nodding, Marie made her way to the other side of the hall to Savannah’s bedroom, and left the door open a crack behind her. Digging through her belongings, she put a few selected items in the bathroom across the hall, hoping to remember them before she left the next morning. Coming back into the bedroom, Marie prodded into the rest of her things, unsure of why she felt the need to pack so many items for one night.
A few silent minutes went by as she finished unpacking and began reading from a book that she had brought with her. Odd, she knew, to bring a book when she was just across the street, but Marie got into the habit of bringing one with her wherever she went. The Girl Scout in her believed that it could come in handy even when she least expected it.
It wasn’t until twenty minutes later that she realized she was right. Still alone in Savannah’s room, Marie began to curse under her breath for the long wait, and then stopped herself when she heard the faint creak of the door. Looking up, she saw the familiar face of her friend and relaxed a little.
“Jeez, Savannah, you scared me! You should know by now tha—Anna?” Savannah’s face was pale and full of what appeared most like shock. “What’s wrong?
For a moment Savannah simply stood there, eyes glued to the ground. Then she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. “It’s okay, Anna, you can tell me anything,” Marie persisted.
This time Savannah didn’t even bother to open her mouth, for the energy it would have taken was too great. She lifted her empty gaze from the floor and out the window, where the dark had settled over the quiet country street. The world was tumbling around her, where everything she thought she knew wasn’t real and her life was no longer hers. It was like watching
The Life of Savannah
being played on TV with someone else pretending to be her on the screen. How could this be possible?
“Savannah …” Marie was more than a little anxious now, and it showed in her voice. “What happened?” She had never seen Anna act so solemn. Despite her pessimistic countenance, she had hardly ever been dramatic or, well, sad. The only other time she could remember her being like this was when … oh, God. “Savannah.” Still no response. “Is there something wrong with your mom?” At last she caught her attention.
Although every fiber in her body wanted so desperately for Savannah to deny it, she knew. It was so hard to be surprised by the slow, distant nod.
And it only took that one nod for her entire body to grow cold.
“Oh my God. What happened? What’s wrong? Please tell me, Anna.”
Savannah’s gaze had long since left her friend and was out the window once more. Everything looked so different. So cruel. So incredibly cruel.
Coldness had consumed Savannah as well, but it was far worse than anything Marie could have felt. Every light shined dimmer, every color looked fainter, every breath felt sharper. Even the night outside had deepened its blackness and caved in to choke her.
For a moment she was dizzy, so she sat. The world, her world, would never be the same.
Finally, Savannah felt a small amount of energy seep back into her. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so dramatic. But … God, I never thought I’d say this.” Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took a deep breath and did the best she could to keep herself from breaking apart before she got the words out. “My mother’s dying.”
Savannah knew the tears building up in her would fall, but it took every ounce of her energy to hold them back. It wasn’t like her to cry and was something she had only done a rare few times in her life. It was just so hard, so very hard, to accept what she was just told to be real.
“How?”
She took a deep breath, one that took too long to come and was too shaky to let out. She knew she had to speak but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t force anything but a slight squeak from her voice box. What seemed like an eternity later, she at last summed up another little dose of energy, a dose she knew would cost her.
“Leukemia.” And then the tears came.
***
After the storm had passed, Savannah settled down to smaller bouts of weeping, and then eventually to that exhausted stage where you wish you were mute. But she had to talk; she had to explain to Marie what happened.
“The doctor says that she doesn’t have very long to live; that she has about two days left, maybe three if we’re lucky.” Marie nodded her head in understanding. Savannah sat on the edge of her bed, grabbed a tissue off of the nightstand, and swallowed hard. “I should have noticed it before. I should have known.”
“No. There was no way for you to know. How could you have?”
Ignoring the attempt to make her feel better, she went on. “If only I hadn’t had gone on that stupid softball trip. I could’ve known weeks ago. I could’ve known weeks before her last…” She stopped from a fresh outburst of tears.
Marie by now had made her way over to Savannah’s side. She grabbed her arms and made her listen this time. “Anna! None of this is your fault; none of it will ever be your fault! I’m sure your mom didn’t want to tell you before because she just didn’t want you to worry.”
“She still should have told me,” Savannah said grimly. “I saw how pale she was before I left. I saw how awful she looked. She told me she was fine, but when I got back I knew there was something wrong.”
The room fell silent for a few minutes, before Marie could not take it any longer. “It was something that just happened, Anna, not something that you or your mom did. It’s completely natural; there was nothing you could have—”
“I hate nature,” Savannah snapped. She said it so quietly and maliciously that it made Marie release her hands and bring them back into her own lap. Savannah stood up, her expression more irritated than before. “Why does nature have to take away my mother, huh? Why does nature have to be so selfish?” Turning around, she kicked the side of her dresser, punched her closet door, and slammed on her desk … none of which she appeared to have hurt herself on.
Then she began screaming, almost growling, and huffing about. Her fury spread throughout the room in a matter of seconds and left her friend horrified as she still sat on the bed behind her. But Savannah kept going. Her arms and fist were whirlwinds, her legs and feet almost making dents in her walls. Miscellaneous items were picked up and thrown clear across the room, shattering all over the carpet. Posters were ripped off of the walls they hung upon. And books had been taken from their shelves and hurled onto the floor beneath them.
And just as fast as her tantrum had come, she stopped, and fell down to the floor. Her screams of rage silenced into noiseless cries. Her furious arms that had made some obvious damages to her room were now wrapped around her slender body, holding herself up above the ground.
She was trembling and terrified.
Marie came over to where Savannah was huddled, hesitating to make sure that it was safe. She lightly placed a hand on her back, hoping to soothe her.
“I’m sorry,” came a soft murmur. The sudden comment made Marie draw her hand back from her friend. “I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to lash out like that.” Marie did not say a word, still a little shaken up over the abrupt explosion. “I’m sorry,” Savannah said again.
Her friend nodded and knelt down next to her. “I know that you’re upset. I would be too if I found out what you did today. It’s definitely not what any of us expected. But in the future, you have to remember that you can’t just live your life thinking that every bad thing that happens to you is your fault. Sometimes, when something that seems bad happens, it’s for a reason.” Savannah glanced over to her in wonder. “Forgive me for bringing this up, but your father’s death is an example. Not that it was a good thing he died, but if he didn’t, could you imagine having the same relationship with your mom that you have now?”
Savannah thought of her mother. She thought of her soft, gentle skin and her sweet motherly scent. She thought of the way her short, chocolate-brown hair matched her beautiful hazel eyes, the eyes that never went dark with anger or narrowed from impatience. She thought of how when she was younger she believed that her mother was a queen by the way rooms always seemed to light up when she entered them and by how graceful she constantly could be.
Her mother was always so polite and well mannered. She was the one who taught Savannah not to put her elbows on the table during dinner and to cover her mouth when she yawned. Not to say that her father was a boar or anything, he just never showed the same kind of courtesy her mom did about some things. It was as if Mrs. Morgan were taught to act that way all her life.
But Savannah was thinking of her mother the way she was before she became ill. She sniffed again. “But why? Why my mother? First my father died and now my mother is—it just seems wrong.”
Marie nodded. “I know.” Giving her friend a vast hug, she herself began sniveling. Pulling away, she smiled. “Great, now you’ve made me all teary.” Savannah said nothing, giving her no more than a bland expression. “Anna … I know it’s going to be hard for a long time, maybe even a year or so, but please don’t let me lose you. You’re my best friend, and if I lost you I would have no one. I know things look grim, but you will always have me too, and your aunt, and your uncle, and your cousin. You’re not alone, babe—I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
When she didn’t say anything, Marie went on. “Do you think you’re going to be okay? I mean, eventually?” Savannah gave a light nod. “Good, because I’m not used to being the sane one in this friendship.”
***