Page 40 of Write Me For You

Jesse

I took a deep breath and sat down in Doc Duncan’s office. My mom answered the video call and gave me a strained smile. Today was the day. Another long, enduring phase of immunotherapy had passed, and today, we found out my fate.

Doc Duncan turned to me, and I held my breath as he said, “I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, Jesse. But the treatment has failed, and we are now at the stage where we must switch to palliative care.”

My mom’s agonized cry filled the room from the phone, but I didn’t cry. I had known this was coming. I had felt it. It wasn’t pessimism or giving up—my body had told me.

Over the past several weeks, I had become more exhausted than ever before. My bones ached nonstop, and I was so breathless some days that I found it difficult to walk.

It wasn’t the side effects of the monoclonal antibodies.

I had known, deep down in my soul, that the treatment hadn’t worked.

And worse, as I looked at June every day, seeing her fading before my eyes, I knew it hadn’t worked for her either.

We hadn’t spoken it aloud to one another, we didn’t want to out those words out into the universe while there was still a chance, but we’d known.

“How long?” I said, feeling like I was having an out-of-body experience. Discussing your mortality—limited to now a mere set of days—was the most surreal thing on earth.

Mom reined in her cries, and Doc Duncan said, “From your most recent results, I would estimate between four and six weeks.”

It was funny—as a kid, four to six weeks would have felt like a lifetime. Summer vacation seemed to last forever, long lazy days and nights. Now, four to six weeks felt like no time at all.

Sand in an hourglass.

“Jesse, I’m coming to the ranch. I’ll find a way,” Mom said, and there was no argument from me this time. Because this was it. This time, there was no miracle cure for me. There was no place to go but onto the next of life’s adventures.

Susan was in the room with me, and when I looked at her, there were tears in her eyes. “I’ll walk you back to your room,” she said.

I shook my head and turned to my mom on the phone. “I…I’ll speak to you later, Mom. I…” I knew she could see in my face that I needed…well, I didn’t know what I needed. Time? Space? A new damn body?

No…I just needed June. But she hadn’t yet had her appointment with Dr. Duncan.

I prayed that I was wrong and that her treatment had worked, but one look at us both, it was clear that our time here was limited.

Chris, Silas, Cherry, Toby, and Kate—they were stronger.

They’d been put through the ringer, but there was a light in their eyes that had dulled for me and June.

Susan put her hand on my back as I left the room. It felt nice. We’d become a little team of sorts these past couple of months. Susan had filled in the role of parent for me as best she could. Nurses were superheroes.

I wandered aimlessly, just walking the hallways numbly until I found myself at the chapel.

I’d never been here before. I knew Mrs. Scott came here a lot, but I had never been big on religion.

I believed in something bigger that could have been God.

But now that I was close to death, I suppose my soul needed some guidance, some answers.

Soft, soothing piano music played as I entered—worship songs, I realized—and I sat down in the back pew and just stared at the altar. A cross was in the middle, along with depictions of Jesus in various stages of the crucifixion, and finally, the resurrection.

“Jesse?” Pastor Noel said, as he came into the chapel behind me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

I smirked. “Neither did I.”

Pastor Noel clearly noted something was up, and he sat down beside me. He didn’t say anything, just let the silence dance around us.

“I’m dying, Pastor,” I said, and for the first time since I’d been told, I felt a crack of fear spread through my chest. My voice was weak, and it shook.

“I’m so sorry,” Pastor Noel said, and just let that sit with me too. He wasn’t pushing me to talk, and I appreciated that.

I studied the cross, and then the detailed painting of the resurrection. “What do you think happens after death?”

Pastor Noel relaxed beside me. “Me, I believe in heaven. But many people believe other things.”

I nodded.

“I believe that what happens next is beautiful and serene and filled with peace and happiness. No pain, and all ailments will be cured,” Pastor Noel said.

A lump built in my throat. “That sounds nice,” I whispered.

I rubbed my hands together. “Do you think it’s painful?

Dying?” I turned to the pastor and looked him dead in the eye.

I needed his complete honesty. “I can face death, I know I can,” I said.

“I just don’t want it to hurt for…” Pastor Noel tipped his head to the side, waiting for me to finish.

“For June. I don’t want her to feel any pain. I couldn’t bear it.”

Deep sorrow shone in the pastor’s brown eyes. He didn’t look much older than mid-thirties. And he seemed like a good man. Silas, Kate, and Cherry talked to him often, attended services every Sunday. I kind of wished I’d maybe talked to him more before this.

“I’ve been a pastor for ten years now, Jesse. And for five of them, I’ve worked with people in hospices or hospitals. In essence, I mostly sit with people as they pass.”

“So you’ve seen a lot of people die?” I asked.

“Hundreds,” he said.

I smiled at that. “You’re like a regular Texan Grim Reaper, huh?”

Pastor Noel laughed. “Believe me, I’ve been called worse.”

I laughed again, and even that small movement hurt my chest. It was strange thing to feel your body begin to fail you day by day, getting defeated by a too-strong opponent. “It must be a weird-ass job, watching people die, Pastor. No offense.”

“None taken,” he said. “But it’s actually really beautiful.” I raised a doubtful eyebrow at him, and he smiled. “I find the most curious things occur when people die. Magical, even.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“I’ve seen many things. The way some people, the second the pass, go with a smile upon their face. Peaceful. Happy. Like they are being bathed in healing light.”

My nose tickled, as I fought back the tears that brought to my eyes.

“The most curious to me is just as the person dies, they seem to see something in the room with them—or some one .” Pastor Noel held out his hand in reassurance.

“Nothing bad. More like a familiar face. Like someone they loved is coming to meet them as they cross over. Or it could be an angel, guiding their soul to the next chapter.” He looked me in the eye.

“Or maybe they are simply welcoming them home.”

A tear fell down my cheek and splashed onto my hand.

I wiped it and caught sight of the drawing of June’s heart in my palm.

Whenever they faded, I drew them back on.

If I had been able to, I would have gotten it tattooed.

But I didn’t think Neenee would allow us to hitch a ride to downtown Austin and get tattooed underage.

“I’m here for you, Jesse. For whatever you need,” Pastor Noel said.

“Thank you,” I said, truly meaning it, and stayed still and silent for a few moments more. I eventually got to my feet.

June would have had her meeting by now. Giving the pastor a farewell wave, I made my way back through the maze of hallways, only to find June standing at my door, waiting silently with her parents.

She heard my approach, met my eyes, and I instantly knew—just like me, she now had only weeks left to live.

Feeling every inch of my heart break, I opened my arms for her and allowed silent tears to pour down my cheeks.

June wrapped her arms around me too, and I held her to my body, letting her warmth and her love seep into me while I still had it.

June’s parents were holding each other up while simultaneously falling apart across from us.

June’s dad gave me a sad smile, and I closed my eyes and just held my girl.

The first day I saw her, I knew June would change my life. I never dreamed that it would end this way between us, but I vowed to myself that, for as long as I breathed, it would be with the sole purpose of loving her.

And to die madly in love with my soulmate? In the end, I couldn’t think of a better way to go.