2.11.2004
"Rain"
This is the story I wrote for OT Survey. Remember, I was complaining about the Ruth thing? I guess you were supposed to write a story about some principle of Ruth, and apparently I picked Ruth's loyalty to Naomi. I stewed on it for a few days, brainstormed for almost a page in my notebook on Saturday, wrote a page or two in my notebook Sunday night, and finished it on the computer Monday night. (Probably the fastest I've ever written a halfway-decent story.) My teacher still has not asked for the stories, which is irritating, but oh well... So, yeah. Read and critique, if you like... (And if anyone's wondering, the evil sentence in there was DELIBERATE. I needed a third item in the list, and I thought of that and went "Oh, what the heck" and stuck it in.) And...um...it's called "Rain" because I couldn't think of anything else. :p Ask about the names if you're curious.
It was raining.
Maeryn stared out the window, her eyes tracing water droplets as they slid down the glass. Everything was wet—her apartment building, the street below, even the trees that stood like sentinels in front of the curb. The rain blurred the cars passing on the street and the people on the sidewalk, and she could see them, but the rain smudged their forms and she wondered if they weren’t part of some other world that she couldn’t reach. Maybe only her apartment was real, and the phone in her hand, and the droplets trickling down her window.
Like tears, she thought. Did the whole world weep today?
Maeryn hadn’t cried, not yet, but she held the phone as if it might attack her if she let go. A small part of her insisted that it already had. Lara’s voice still played through her head: “The headaches keep getting worse, Maeryn…I don’t know what it is.” “I talked to the doctor today—he scheduled an MRI. Pray it’s not something bad…” And today: “Something’s wrong, for sure…the doctor thought it might be a brain tumor.”
Cancer.
She remembered cancer. It had taken her mother, even before Maeryn could remember. It had taken her father only a few years ago.
And now Lara?
She shuddered and cradled the phone. It might not be cancer. We don’t know yet…it could be something else…
God, help us.
Maeryn turned away and glanced into the kitchen. College textbooks and papers lay strewn across the table, reminding her that she had no time to stand worrying and wondering. She had studying to do, even if she still had a couple days left of spring break—
“Studying,” she said to the books, “can wait.” She could at least use her last few days to visit Lara. If she could do nothing else, at least she could be there.
***
Rain still fell as Maeryn pulled her battered little car into Lara’s driveway, some hundred miles from the apartment. Lara met her at the door with a smile that couldn’t quite hide the worry in her eyes. “You didn’t have to come, you know.”
Maeryn half-smiled. “Did you have to stay up with me at night when I was sick and help me with homework and—”
“Yes—”
“Well, then.” Maeryn shut the door behind her. “Anyway, you’ll need emotional support when you go to the hospital again.”
Lara’s smile dimmed a bit. “I will, at that. Are you planning to stay long?”
“However long you need me.”
Lara headed into the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “I just made up some coffee—like some?”
“Sure.” Maeryn trailed after her, noticing the papers piled on the table, dishes stacked in the sink, magazines covering the couch. Even living alone, Lara couldn’t seem to keep a clean house. Apparently some things never changed.
A photo hung in the middle of the kitchen wall arrested Maeryn’s attention, and she lingered a moment, looking at it. A little girl with dark brown hair and serious gray eyes crouched at the center of the picture, gazing down at the flower in her hands. The woman behind her—smiling, blonde, green-eyed—looked so unlike the girl that even a casual observer would have deduced that no blood connected them. Maeryn remembered the day her father had taken that picture, barely; he’d remarried to Lara only a few months before then.
She shook her head and slid into her old place at the table. Lara brought the coffee mugs to the table, and they spent the next hour simply talking. Maeryn related the most memorable events from the past few weeks; Lara, anything interesting from her job and her volunteer work. Neither mentioned hospitals or cancer.
Finally Lara sighed and scooted her chair back. “That appointment’s in half an hour. I suppose I should get there in enough time to wait for the doctors to get their act together.”
“I’ll drive you,” Maeryn offered.
They passed the short drive in aimless conversation as rain pattered on the car’s roof. In a small corner of her mind, Maeryn wondered why they bothered avoiding the single important subject—but she didn’t want to talk about it either.
“There’s a separate building for oncology,” Lara said. Maeryn changed direction without comment and parked as close to the building’s doors as she could. She could feel wetness soaking through to her skin as she hurried into the hospital. No one looked at her or Lara as they took their seats in a waiting room.
After a few moments, a nurse called Lara’s name, and she stood to leave. Maeryn squeezed her hand and watched her walk up the corridor, around a corner, out of sight.
Please, God…
The minutes stretched into an hour. Maeryn waited, her fingers twined in her lap. She’d tried reading one of several magazines on the side table a few chairs down, but she couldn’t concentrate on the words. Her eyes kept straying to the hallway where Lara had disappeared.
The hands on the clock clicked forward two more minutes, then three. Lara rounded the corner, and Maeryn saw her eyes.
And she knew.
***
Tumor…malignant…inoperable…radiation…chemotherapy…
Familiar words. Familiar, terrible words.
Cancer…
Again Maeryn stared out the window at the rain. She and Lara had said nothing on the drive home. Maeryn had struggled to concentrate on driving, struggled to keep herself from thinking, but now in Lara’s quiet house she had no choice.
Lara had retreated to the den as soon as they’d arrived, ostensibly to research; Maeryn knew she would spend most of the time praying.
As for Maeryn, she settled on Lara’s well-worn couch and watched the world cry.
Time passed; Maeryn neither knew nor cared how much. She only knew that she had come no closer to a decision when she heard Lara’s footsteps in the hallway, only that she had to do…something.
The easy chair creaked as Lara lowered herself onto it. Maeryn turned to look at this woman with whom she shared no blood, only love and memories, and she knew what she would do.
Without preamble, she said, “I’m staying here.”
Lara glanced at her. “What?”
“I’ll stay here. With you. As long as…as long as this takes.” She raised her head and met Lara’s eyes. “You might need someone to…help take care of you.”
“You—” Lara stopped, took a breath, and started again. “You can’t do that. You have college, you have your job in the city, your friends there, you…” She waved one hand in the air, a gesture Maeryn knew well. “You have your whole life, Maeryn—”
“College can wait, I can get another job here, and my friends will live. Don’t try to stop me. I’ve made up my mind.”
For a long moment Lara gazed at her, as if wondering what to say. Outside Maeryn could hear water dripping off the roof.
Then Lara laughed. “All right, then,” she said. “I have to admit I’ll be grateful for your company.” She smiled sidelong at Maeryn. “You always were the stubborn one, weren’t you?”
“I try,” Maeryn said.
Lara nodded at the door. “Go get your things from the car. I’ll get your old room ready for you.”
Maeryn took her keys from the end table and pushed open the screen door. It slapped shut behind her, and for a moment she stood on the cement walk in front of the house. The rain had not stopped, and gray clouds still hovered overhead, but now she could see what she hadn’t before: everything green drank in the rain. The grass, the bushes, the trees… There was life in rain, she realized. Life...
She hurried down the driveway to her car.
This is the story I wrote for OT Survey. Remember, I was complaining about the Ruth thing? I guess you were supposed to write a story about some principle of Ruth, and apparently I picked Ruth's loyalty to Naomi. I stewed on it for a few days, brainstormed for almost a page in my notebook on Saturday, wrote a page or two in my notebook Sunday night, and finished it on the computer Monday night. (Probably the fastest I've ever written a halfway-decent story.) My teacher still has not asked for the stories, which is irritating, but oh well... So, yeah. Read and critique, if you like... (And if anyone's wondering, the evil sentence in there was DELIBERATE. I needed a third item in the list, and I thought of that and went "Oh, what the heck" and stuck it in.) And...um...it's called "Rain" because I couldn't think of anything else. :p Ask about the names if you're curious.
It was raining.
Maeryn stared out the window, her eyes tracing water droplets as they slid down the glass. Everything was wet—her apartment building, the street below, even the trees that stood like sentinels in front of the curb. The rain blurred the cars passing on the street and the people on the sidewalk, and she could see them, but the rain smudged their forms and she wondered if they weren’t part of some other world that she couldn’t reach. Maybe only her apartment was real, and the phone in her hand, and the droplets trickling down her window.
Like tears, she thought. Did the whole world weep today?
Maeryn hadn’t cried, not yet, but she held the phone as if it might attack her if she let go. A small part of her insisted that it already had. Lara’s voice still played through her head: “The headaches keep getting worse, Maeryn…I don’t know what it is.” “I talked to the doctor today—he scheduled an MRI. Pray it’s not something bad…” And today: “Something’s wrong, for sure…the doctor thought it might be a brain tumor.”
Cancer.
She remembered cancer. It had taken her mother, even before Maeryn could remember. It had taken her father only a few years ago.
And now Lara?
She shuddered and cradled the phone. It might not be cancer. We don’t know yet…it could be something else…
God, help us.
Maeryn turned away and glanced into the kitchen. College textbooks and papers lay strewn across the table, reminding her that she had no time to stand worrying and wondering. She had studying to do, even if she still had a couple days left of spring break—
“Studying,” she said to the books, “can wait.” She could at least use her last few days to visit Lara. If she could do nothing else, at least she could be there.
Rain still fell as Maeryn pulled her battered little car into Lara’s driveway, some hundred miles from the apartment. Lara met her at the door with a smile that couldn’t quite hide the worry in her eyes. “You didn’t have to come, you know.”
Maeryn half-smiled. “Did you have to stay up with me at night when I was sick and help me with homework and—”
“Yes—”
“Well, then.” Maeryn shut the door behind her. “Anyway, you’ll need emotional support when you go to the hospital again.”
Lara’s smile dimmed a bit. “I will, at that. Are you planning to stay long?”
“However long you need me.”
Lara headed into the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “I just made up some coffee—like some?”
“Sure.” Maeryn trailed after her, noticing the papers piled on the table, dishes stacked in the sink, magazines covering the couch. Even living alone, Lara couldn’t seem to keep a clean house. Apparently some things never changed.
A photo hung in the middle of the kitchen wall arrested Maeryn’s attention, and she lingered a moment, looking at it. A little girl with dark brown hair and serious gray eyes crouched at the center of the picture, gazing down at the flower in her hands. The woman behind her—smiling, blonde, green-eyed—looked so unlike the girl that even a casual observer would have deduced that no blood connected them. Maeryn remembered the day her father had taken that picture, barely; he’d remarried to Lara only a few months before then.
She shook her head and slid into her old place at the table. Lara brought the coffee mugs to the table, and they spent the next hour simply talking. Maeryn related the most memorable events from the past few weeks; Lara, anything interesting from her job and her volunteer work. Neither mentioned hospitals or cancer.
Finally Lara sighed and scooted her chair back. “That appointment’s in half an hour. I suppose I should get there in enough time to wait for the doctors to get their act together.”
“I’ll drive you,” Maeryn offered.
They passed the short drive in aimless conversation as rain pattered on the car’s roof. In a small corner of her mind, Maeryn wondered why they bothered avoiding the single important subject—but she didn’t want to talk about it either.
“There’s a separate building for oncology,” Lara said. Maeryn changed direction without comment and parked as close to the building’s doors as she could. She could feel wetness soaking through to her skin as she hurried into the hospital. No one looked at her or Lara as they took their seats in a waiting room.
After a few moments, a nurse called Lara’s name, and she stood to leave. Maeryn squeezed her hand and watched her walk up the corridor, around a corner, out of sight.
Please, God…
The minutes stretched into an hour. Maeryn waited, her fingers twined in her lap. She’d tried reading one of several magazines on the side table a few chairs down, but she couldn’t concentrate on the words. Her eyes kept straying to the hallway where Lara had disappeared.
The hands on the clock clicked forward two more minutes, then three. Lara rounded the corner, and Maeryn saw her eyes.
And she knew.
Tumor…malignant…inoperable…radiation…chemotherapy…
Familiar words. Familiar, terrible words.
Cancer…
Again Maeryn stared out the window at the rain. She and Lara had said nothing on the drive home. Maeryn had struggled to concentrate on driving, struggled to keep herself from thinking, but now in Lara’s quiet house she had no choice.
Lara had retreated to the den as soon as they’d arrived, ostensibly to research; Maeryn knew she would spend most of the time praying.
As for Maeryn, she settled on Lara’s well-worn couch and watched the world cry.
Time passed; Maeryn neither knew nor cared how much. She only knew that she had come no closer to a decision when she heard Lara’s footsteps in the hallway, only that she had to do…something.
The easy chair creaked as Lara lowered herself onto it. Maeryn turned to look at this woman with whom she shared no blood, only love and memories, and she knew what she would do.
Without preamble, she said, “I’m staying here.”
Lara glanced at her. “What?”
“I’ll stay here. With you. As long as…as long as this takes.” She raised her head and met Lara’s eyes. “You might need someone to…help take care of you.”
“You—” Lara stopped, took a breath, and started again. “You can’t do that. You have college, you have your job in the city, your friends there, you…” She waved one hand in the air, a gesture Maeryn knew well. “You have your whole life, Maeryn—”
“College can wait, I can get another job here, and my friends will live. Don’t try to stop me. I’ve made up my mind.”
For a long moment Lara gazed at her, as if wondering what to say. Outside Maeryn could hear water dripping off the roof.
Then Lara laughed. “All right, then,” she said. “I have to admit I’ll be grateful for your company.” She smiled sidelong at Maeryn. “You always were the stubborn one, weren’t you?”
“I try,” Maeryn said.
Lara nodded at the door. “Go get your things from the car. I’ll get your old room ready for you.”
Maeryn took her keys from the end table and pushed open the screen door. It slapped shut behind her, and for a moment she stood on the cement walk in front of the house. The rain had not stopped, and gray clouds still hovered overhead, but now she could see what she hadn’t before: everything green drank in the rain. The grass, the bushes, the trees… There was life in rain, she realized. Life...
She hurried down the driveway to her car.
6:59 PM|| 
