Chapter 24

    The doctor's office has no personality. It is not unique. It looks exactly like every other doctor's office in the building. If there wasn't a plaque on the door with the physician's name on it, you would get lost in the white. My eyes are already beginning to hurt, and there is a steady throbbing beginning in my head. I'm sitting on the raised bed, trying to ignore the crinkle of the paper underneath me as I nervously shift. Charlotte, my mother and my father are sitting in the uncomfortable white chairs beside the door, fidgeting with their coats and hair.
    I breathe in, anticipating the arrival of my doctor. The nurse had left about two minutes ago. Just then the door opens and my doctor comes in, his white lab coat allowing him to blend in with his surroundings.
    "Mr. Kendrick, good to see you again. Though not so much here, eh?" He strides over to the sink and begins to wash his hands. "How are things going?"
    "Fine." My voice cracks and I clasp my hands together, digging my fingers into my skin.
    "Well let's just check up on you then. The nurse is going to take your blood in a moment so we can see how far along the cancer is." He wipes his hands on some paper towels and then walks over to me. He begins to feel along my neck. "I see there's somebody new in here with you today. Who might she be?"
    "My girlfriend," I reply, looking over at her.
    My doctor raises an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't like attachments."
    "I suppose things change."
    He laughs a little bit. "I suppose so. Good." He begins to listen to my heartbeat. "So, Jude, if you don't mind me asking, have there been any more increasing symptoms?"
    I lick my lips and look over at my mom who is squeezing her purse a little too tightly to her chest. "Yes."
    She looks up at me then, and I see something like sadness in her eyes. My dad looks at the floor.
    "All right. Like what?"
    "Vomiting blood." My voice cracks again and I start to get frustrated with my vocal chords. "Pain in my lower abdomen."
    "Let's check that out then, shall we?" My doctor lifts up my shirt and reveals a few good size bruises spreading their way around my lower stomach. "Oh goodness, that doesn't look too good." He says it softly though, like it wasn't meant to be heard. He pulls my shirt back down. "It looks like it's working it's way through a lot faster."
    The door opens and the nurse from before walks in, carrying a syringe and a tourniquet.
    "I'll need you to take off your sweatshirt," she says, as she prepares the needle.
    I pull my sweater off and extend my arm. I've done this multiple times before. I know the drill. She wraps the blue tourniquet around my upper arm and ties it tight. Suddenly, my mom points.
    "Are those track marks?"
    I look down to see an old track mark that hadn't healed all the way. "It's old mom," I reply.
    She tries to hide her face in her coat.
    The nurse sticks me with the needle and begins to draw blood. I bite my lip and look back over at my mom.
    "It's going to be okay, you know."
    All three of them, Charlotte, my mom and my dad, all look up at me at the same time.
    I nod. "It will."
    "Shut up," my dad mumbles. Then he murmurs something beneath his breath.
    "What was that dad?" I ask.
    "I said, you're not supposed to be the one trying to make us feel better."
    The corner of my mouth twitches up into a slight smile.
    Then Charlotte speaks. "Doctor, I was wondering why Jude isn't on a transplant list."
    "Charlotte, please," I say.
    My doctor smiles and shakes his head at me. "No, it's a very logical question." He sits down on his black stool. "Charlotte is it? There is a very long process of getting someone on a transplant list. The patient must fill out a lot of forms, and then they have to be processed with hundreds, even thousands of other paper works in order to even get to the point where they are considered for transplant." He scratches the spot on his head where he's beginning to bald. "Jude did everything he was supposed to. He filled out his paper work, and he waited. For quite some time too, I might add. We began as soon as we found the cancer. We didn't want to waste time. However, he didn't qualify. To get on a transplant list, especially for something as high in demand as a liver, the patient has to have at least a chance of living more than five years after the transplant is done. Jude did not make that cut. He has too many other damaged organs from drinking and doing drugs, and there is a very big chance the cancer has spread to more than just his liver. He would need more than just a liver transplant, as far as I am concerned." He clasps his hands together. "Jude wouldn't live long with a new liver, and to the board, giving a transplant to someone who won't live long with it, is a perfectly good waste."
    I take a deep breath as the nurse sticks me with another syringe. I see Charlotte nod, but she doesn't look like she's finished.
    "What other transplants would he need?"
    The doctor shrugs. "Probably a kidney transplant. I know the cancer has gotten that far. But my dear, most of his insides are incredibly damaged from years of abuse-"
    "Well what if he got a kidney transplant and a liver transplant? He would probably have a much longer survival rate if he got what he needed fixed, versus just the main problem."
    "Charlotte! Let it go," I say harshly. She just ignores me.
    My doctor clears his throat. "The expenses of that are far too glorious for you all to imagine. There is also no guarantee in there being both a kidney and a liver that both match his blood type ready at the same time, and in time before the cancer kills him."
    "Would you still treat him if he got transplants somewhere else?"
    My doctor furrows his eyebrows. "Are you talking about the human body trade?"
    Charlotte shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "I did some research the other night. It's not really illegal I don't think. It's expensive. But he would have a much larger chance of getting a transplant, wouldn't he?"
    "Well yes-"
    "You did what?" I feel furious. "You looked up crap about the human body trade? Why would you do that?"
    "Because I want you to live." She throws me a glare. "Is that such a crime?"
    "It is if you go behind my back about it."
    "How else was I supposed to do it? I can't exactly talk to you about it. Every time I try you get angry."
    "That's because talking about it makes me angry. I apologize for being sensitive about dying."
    "I'm just trying to help Jude. When it comes to your life I'm willing to take drastic measures."
    "Yeah well, it isn't just about you. My parents don't exactly do drastic measures."
    My mom clears her throat. "I actually, did some research on it as well. It was a while back, and I didn't really have the guts to say anything." She smiles at me softly. "You're my son, and I love you, and I would do anything to see you survive this."
    I'm taken aback. My eyes fill with tears and I try hard to keep my bottom lip from shaking. "Mom I'm not asking-"
    "I don't give a damn. I was angry when I heard you weren't eligible for a transplant. That's not fair."
    The nurse finishes taking my blood and walks out.
    "But mom-"
    "Don't argue with her." My dad clear his throat and holds his nose up. "I agree with her."
    Did that mean there was a chance? A small window of chance that I could seize, and I would survive? I could survive and be with Charlotte. I looked over at her and she looked back at me, and everything I wanted was exchanged from her eyes to mine.
    "I would treat Mr. Kendrick if he were to get a transplant somewhere else," my doctor spoke up. "Of course."
    The door opened again and the nurse poked her head in. "Doctor."
    "Excuse me a moment," he said, standing up and walking out the door.
    I look down at my hands. The silence is a steady ringing in my ears. The door reopens thankfully, and the doctor walks back in with some paper work. He looks upset.
    "We have your blood tests back." He clears his throat and sits back down on his stool. "This throwing up blood business, and the abdomen pain and bruising is a sure sign that the cancer is spreading more quickly. These symptoms usually begin, and progressively get worse, near the, um-" He wipes his brow and looks at the floor. "You know, the end. The bruising is very, very bad." My doctor looks down at the papers. "You have a month at most, Jude. You can never pinpoint the amount of time left for a cancer patient, but this is spreading very quickly, very fast. My professional opinion is that you have no more than a month left. It could be sooner, or it could be later. Quite unfortunately, that leaves no window of opportunity for even a transplant in a different country. Even they, must still file your paper work and find eligible donors." He smooths back his hair. "I suggest you continue to live your life the way you were before. You will most likely be back in the hospital around the last few days." He stands up and walks over to me, giving me a heartfelt pat on the shoulder. "Jude, I'm really sorry, again. I hate to be the bringer of bad news."
    I try hard not to black out. There was my window, and then it was snatched away from me, just like that. Quicker than a blink of an eye. I didn't even have time to say yes to my parents proposal. I give something of a nod, and the doctor leaves us in the room alone. I need to stand up. I drop down to the floor and run my fingers through my hair.
    "S**t." The words are inaudible. Then rage courses through my veins. "S**t!" I grab the doctors stool and throw it against the white wall. I make my way towards the other chair in the corner but strong arms grab me from behind.
    "F**k!" I can feel the hot tears running down my face. I try and get out of the strong grasp but the arms hold me too tight. I try and push my dad away, but instead I end up collapsing, defeated, screaming. My tears stain my fathers work shirt, but I don't think he cares. He just holds me. I shake my head as I bury my face in his shoulder.
    "It's all right," he says softly. His hand holds my head in place. "It'll be all right."


   Charlotte holds my hand as we drive towards her house. My parents have agreed to drop me off there because I promised her I'd have lunch with them. She said if I wasn't up for it that I didn't have to go. But when else would I? We pull up to her house and both Charlotte and I get out.
    "I'll just walk home," I tell my mom in the passenger side. She nods and then we head towards the front door.
    Charlotte turns the doorknob and we step inside. The smell of brownies wafts through my nose, and all of a sudden I feel at home. The house gives off a sort of cabin vibe, with a wooden stair case and wooden floors, and warm plush carpets spread out along the hall.
    "Mom! Dad!" Charlotte takes my hand and drags me towards the kitchen. "We're back."
    A tall thin redhead walks out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. She looks exactly like Charlotte. She smiles at me, and extends her hand.
    "Hi I'm Loraine, Charlotte's mother. It's very nice to finally meet you."
    I shake her hand. "It's nice to meet you too."
    She looks a little uncomfortable, but she's trying not to be. "Charlotte told me that you're the boy she's doing her school project on. I hope rehab did you some good." She smiles wide again.
    "It was brilliant," I blurt out. I smile quickly. "Changed me completely."
    "Well good. Lunch isn't ready yet, but I'll call you when it is. Charlotte your father is out back."
    Charlotte nods. "We'll be up in my room."
    Before her mother can protest, Charlotte is pulling me up the stairs and around the corner. We enter her room and I smile when I see it. The walls are painted a dark purple, and the floor is completely carpeted. Pictures from fashion magazines hang up around her wall, including pictures of her with friends. Her bed is surrounded by a black canopy, which she parts in order to sit down on the bed.
    "I don't like being woken up by the sunlight coming in through my window," she said with a small smile. Then she motions for me to come over. I come and sit down next to her. She takes one of my hands in hers and runs her long slender fingers along my skin.
    "How are you feeling?"
    "I don't exactly know how to feel." I look down at our hands.
    "I thought you would have had longer. I wished you would have had longer."
    "I'm going to miss you." I raise my eyebrows. "A lot."
    "You'll be dead, you can't miss me."
    I laugh. "You would be surprised."
    "I'm going to miss you too." Charlotte leans forward and kisses me softly, but it leaves me absolutely frazzled. Her voice tickles my lips when she speaks. "I want, one more night with you." She runs her fingers through my hair.
    "We have more than one night," I reply.
    She shakes her head. "But I want one night to be special."
    "Charlotte we can't act like that, like I'm actually going."
    "It's not because of that." She looks me in the eyes. "It's because I want one more special night with you."
    I kiss her feverishly and wrap my arms around her waste, pulling her closer.
    "Charlotte! Lunch is ready!" Her mother's voice calls to us from downstairs.
    Charlotte pulls away with a smile. "Come on, my mom is very impatient."
    We get up and head towards the stairs. "Oh hey, you have a bathroom?" I ask.
    Charlotte points to the left. "Come down with you're done."
    I head into the bathroom and shut the door. I splash my face with cold water and look into the mirror. I didn't look well. Suddenly something catches my eye; a reflection in the mirror. It's a pink box. I turn slowly and look at the trashcan in the corner before walking over to it. My shaky hands pick up a pink cardboard box, only one among four. The white print on the box reads, pregnancy test. I take out the other three and look deeper into the trashcan. She must have thrown away the tests too. But I can't find them. I grab one of the boxes and walk out of the bathroom. I don't know what I'm feeling. Anger, excitement, fear. I walk down the stairs and into the dining room, where Charlotte and her mother and waiting for me and most likely her dad.
    I clear my throat. "Charlotte?"
    She smiles and looks over at me. But her smile fades when she see's the pink box I'm carrying in my hands.
    "Jude, that isn't-" Charlotte excuses herself and quickly runs over to me, pulling me into the hallway. "Why were you digging through my trash?"
    "I wasn't. I saw it on my way out. Why would you need to buy four pregnancy tests Charlotte?"
    "Just one isn't completely accurate."
    "What do you even need one for?"
    "Keep your voice down, okay? My parents don't know."
    "Neither do I, for that matter."
    "Look, we never had protected sex, Jude. Both of the times we made love, they were in the moment. There was never protection. I just wanted to check and see."
    "So you checked. What did you see?" Fear creeps into my bones. "Are you pregnant?"
    Charlotte takes a deep breath. "Three out of four of the pregnancy tests say that I am."
    I lean against the wall so I don't fall. "Oh s**t."
    "Well that's lovely."
    "We're teenagers for Christ's sake! I'm about to die! You can't be having a kid."
    "You think I was all whoop-dee-doo about it either Jude?"
    "Why didn't you tell me?"
    "I was going to, today actually. But then the doctor told you the news and then I just didn't want to put more stress on you."
    "How considerate."
    "Look, I'm really trying here okay, Jude?" Charlotte runs her fingers through my hair.
    "So, what are you, you know." I point to her stomach.
    "I figured we would talk about it."
    "My parents are going to kill me." I put my face in my hands. "S**t."
    "Look, can we please just go back in there and act okay, and then go back to your place and talk about it?"
    I can hear the tears in her voice.
    I kiss her forehead. I didn't want her to think I was running away. I wasn't. We walk back towards the dining room together.