Part 24 (1/2)
”Tell you what. We'll let them do something with you today, just to appease them, and then that will be that.”
”What does appease appease mean?” mean?”
”It means to make someone happy by giving them something they want.”
”Oh, Daddy. I can't bear to spend more than half an hour with them. And you have to be there.”
”How about two hours? And they'll want you to themselves.”
”I want you you there.” there.”
”I know you do, but they want you alone.”
”Okay. Two hours. One minute more and I'm running away and joining the circus.”
”It's a deal, squirt.”
39. TWO LITTLE GIRLS LIVING BY THEMSELVES.
Donovan and Achara were slated to show up at nine. Stan Beebe's funeral would start at the Lutheran church a few blocks north of the station at eleven. The engine was draped in black crepe and festooned with bunting and flags and would carry the coffin to the local cemetery.
The buzz around the station was that Joel McCain's wife had decided Joel needed to attend Beebe's funeral. Let me tell you, when I became a zombie, the last thing I'd want was to get wheeled around in front of my old friends like a mummy on tour. It seemed so unlike Mary McCain, who until now had kept Joel under wraps.
Maybe he was was getting better. getting better.
On our way to the fire station, I told Stephanie to drop us off at the playfield at North Bend Elementary two blocks from the station. Realizing what I was planning, Stephanie gave me a sorrowful look through the winds.h.i.+eld as she drove away.
After the girls burned off some of their breakfast, I found myself on my back upside down on the slide, staring up at the clouds, just like a kid. Britney was at the top on her back, the soles of her feet resting against mine, both of us suspended by my grip on the cold rails. Allyson sat at the very top playing with Britney's hair. Above us was a mostly blue sky, a battery of c.u.mulus clouds rolling over the lip of Mount Si, wispy clouds I couldn't name streaking the middle of the sky, and corroded contrails from jet traffic to the west above Sea-Tac.
It had been years since I'd taken the time to lie on my back and watch clouds. The absolute grace of the atmosphere astonished me. After a while, I could almost feel the earth moving, could certainly see the clouds s.h.i.+fting in the sky. A private plane traversed the horizon silently. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind.
To have had these girls for as long as I had made me the luckiest man in the world.
”I have something I need to tell you,” I said, finally.
”What is it, Daddy?” Britney and Allyson both had slipped into that same lazy summertime cadence I remembered as a youth, when everything slowed down and you had no worries and it seemed as if there were no such thing as clocks or teachers or homework.
Too bad their lives were about to implode around them.
”Does this have something to do with Stephanie?” Allyson asked, failing to conceal the note of hope in her voice.
I let go of the slide and slid to the bottom, sat up as Britney scooted into my arms. Allyson followed, slamming into us. ”Stephanie's here because she's my doctor. I'm sick. I'm getting sicker every day. If we don't find out what's causing it, I won't be with you by the end of the week.”
”What's the end of the week?” Britney asked.
”Sunday.”
”Sunday?” Allyson flicked a lock of hair out of her eyes. ”What do you mean, Sunday? Where are you going on Sunday?”
I'd violated my own philosophy of dispensing bad news, the same philosophy I'd used just a few days ago with Marsha Beebe. The rule was: Spit it out quickly and concisely and in clear, unequivocal language.
”If we can't stop this, I'll end up like your Grandfather Swope sometime on Sunday. I might even be in the same nursing home with him.”
I still hadn't said it.
”You mean you're going to get old?” Britney asked.
Allyson had tears streaming down her face. ”No, dummy. He's going to get sick.”
”Neither one of you is a dummy,” I said. Britney looked from Allyson's tears to me and back to Allyson, her lower lip beginning to quiver. This was exactly what I couldn't bear to watch. ”My body will be here and my heart will be here, but my brain will be gone. I won't be able to talk to you. Or look at you. And after a while, I'll probably lose weight the way Grandpa did.”
”You don't love us anymore?” Britney asked.
”Sweetheart, I'll still love you a hundred years after I'm dead. Anytime anything happens to you and you feel like you need someone, you can know that my love will be there alongside you. I love you both more than anything.”
”Then why are you going to the nursing home?” Allyson asked.
”It's not for sure. But if it happens, it will be because I don't have a choice.”
”How did you get sick?” Britney asked.
”n.o.body knows. It's something to do with the fire department. I got sick at the same time Joel McCain and Stan Beebe and some others did.”
”What if you get well?” Allyson asked.
”I'm hoping I will. That's why Stephanie's been working on the computer so much. A lot of people want to help. We're going to be seeing some experts today.”
Allyson leaned her head against my chest. ”So, Daddy? You shouldn't be goofing off with us. You should be with Stephanie.”
”Right now I want to be with you.”
”If you're not living with us,” Britney said, ”how are we going to get to school? And who's going to take care of us?”
”We'll take care of ourselves,” Allyson said, knowing the alternative was at that moment registered eight blocks away in a motel.
”We'll figure something out.”
”I'm going to miss you,” Britney said.
”I'm going to miss you, too. Both of you. More than anything.”
Seconds later Britney was wailing so hard and so loud, Allyson and I thought she was acting. She cried so hard, she went blind with it. A moment later Allyson started up. Then I shed my first real tears in years.
It was fifteen minutes before we ran out of water, another fifteen before we were composed enough to walk to the fire station hand in hand, talking about little things, anything but what was on our minds.
At the station telephones were ringing, firefighters and volunteers rus.h.i.+ng to and fro. A few people were there to help out with our research on the syndrome. Most were there for the funeral. It was nine o'clock, and Donovan and Carpenter had not arrived. I was surprised by how much their absence irritated me. Even my alcoholic in-laws were punctual.
Ian Hjorth and Ben Arden had organized a squadron of volunteers to run errands and do the busywork. They'd even recruited children to keep Allyson and Britney company.