Do you all believe in ghosts? I've heard some pretty weird stories from parents who lost their children to cancer about how they leave 'hints'. I'd never had anything like that, but I dream about Tyler a lot. A few nights a go, I dreamed about him again. It was very vivid. We were sitting outside the Children's Hospital, he looked like he wasn't sick, he was eating something and we were just talking about school and things. Whenever he visits me in my dreams, we always talk. I laughed a lot. When I woke up I instantly felt happy and relieved. It made my whole day, I am filled with such joy when I see his face. The whole school is really feeling the loss, but as we go into March, things get better. The town starts to rebuilt itself again. Saturday will have been three weeks since his death of this year, 3 years ago I remember his last breath...it seems like yesterday. Enjoy this chapter, I promise the action will come after Kendall's surgery. The whole family is in shock, so they're taking it slow. Love you guys.
"Pick up the phone, nobody's home, I'm all alone, we've all been here before. By yesterday, I saw a change, as you walked out the door. It's a twist, a little bit, I'll admit, but we're stronger than before. Open up, I've had enough…I've had enough. Now I'm holding on, and waiting." What Do We Know, Thousand Foot Krutch
Chapter III
"Osteosarcoma, bone cancer," Kelly leans over Gustavo in the studio, he's been listening the boys on repeat ever since he got the news of Kendall's hospitalization, "It's metastasized to his pelvis and lungs. He's having limb salvage surgery on his leg tomorrow, and they'll insert a port in his chest for chemo. 6 rounds, then radiation. The prognoses is just over 60%. I want you to be there with me tomorrow, to wish him luck and tell him how much he means to you. How much they all mean to you."
The upbeat music fades through out the background. It's ironic, Gustavo thinks, that Kendall, that any of the dogs would get cancer. They were so…happy, full of life, most of the time smiling and joking. How was it fair? Gustavo thought if he didn't get up from his chair, if he drown his sorry in pudding, if he listened to their music on repeat until he fell asleep, he would wake up and find this is only a nightmare. At first, he thought about the record, the tour, the Cds, the band. And then it really hit him. Kendall was dying. Griffin had came and sat with him, but they exchanged no words. Kendall, in a hospital. This couldn't be happening, Kendall was his dog.
Kelly cries, but the boys' voice overpowers the tears.
Mrs. Knight sat at her son's hospital bed. The oddly comfortable bed was reclined all the way down, Kendall tangled in the white sheets upon the flat, stiff surface. IV tubes twisted in the splints in his wrist, an oxygen mask obscured his face. The tumors in his lungs have started to close off his airways, it's more of a fluid build up then the actual solid mass. At least, that's what doctor Christopher Callaway had told her.
Two days. It had been two days since she had seen her boy awake. He had been sedated through out the testing and to keep him comfortable. Nobody had formally told him he had cancer, but Mrs. Knight knew that somehow he had the idea. She hoped he was dreaming right now. She hoped in his mind, he was on the ice. That every needle stick was just the defensive players. There were no visitors besides the boys and Katie until after the surgery. It was simpler that way, she didn't want to worry about anything else.
If Kendall was awake, he would be asking for Jo. If Kendall was awake, he would be complaining about not getting food. Now, he's underweight, something Mrs. Knight had never dealt with before. Kendall had been a good eater growing up, he would eat his vegetables and sit down for dinner, and have a coke and half a sandwich for lunch. It seemed funny that she was just thinking about something as insignificant as his weight. It startled her, how could she not have known anything was seriously wrong? She eyed her boy, his arms wrapped around his body, as if protecting himself. 'Too bad the danger is inside of you', she thought. What had she done to deserve her little boy, her perfect son, getting cancer?
She stares at the phone in her hands. She takes a deep breath and dials the number she wish she didn't know by heart. It picks up on the third ring.
"Hello?" The voice is kind, it asks again, "Hello?"
"Joseph…it's Challen."
"Challen, what's wrong? You never call, is everything okay?" The voice was careful, deep and gentle, yet concerned.
"You'd better come home…now."
"I can't just leave, we're in the middle of winter training, we have to get ready for spring. What's wrong?"
"Your son is dying."
"What? Challen? Hello?"
But she can't answer, because her throat swelled shut.
Kendall Knight's throat was dry. He opened his eyes and looked around, his eyelids heavy. He could see the bustle around his bed, but he knew he wasn't in the ER anymore.
"Oh! Sorry, Hun, didn't see you awake. We're just gonna take a scan of your lungs, so stay still for me."
Lungs? His leg. His leg was the problem. Kendall felt trapped in a fog, but he didn't hurt. When he lifted his head and looked down, he was horrified. This was not his body, painful ribs stood out, IV sites with clear tape twisted on his wrists, wires on his torso. The nurse, the same one as before, clucked.
"Oh, Hun, I thought I told you to sit still," She said in her southern drawl.
He looked up at her, his eyes clouded with emotion. His voice was feathery, like faint wind.
"I'm really sick, aren't I?"
The nurse looked at him with a look he'd never forget all his life.
Pity.
His dimples had almost disappeared. His cheekbones made his nose look sharper than ever before. So gaunt. He held on to Kendall's hand. He would have to leave soon. They would be prepping him for surgery. A hand appeared on his shoulder, but did little to ease the frown lines that marred the boy's face.
"It's my fault."
"No, Logan. It's not. We all didn't see it, but we have to remember that Kendall was the one that didn't let us in. It's all of our faults. And at the same time, none of ours. This just happens." Mrs. Knight had spoken with the social worker earlier that day. She was loaded to take on questions and provide facts to the boy that was almost like a second son. But Kendall was hers, and he was irreplaceable. She pulls up a chair and takes the brunette's hands.
"46 children are diagnosed with cancer each school day. Kendall was just one of them. Think of the odds, Logan. What were the odds of you guys becoming famous pop-stars? What are the odds of Kendall getting cancer? There are chances for everything, you become lucky once, and now…now we're not so lucky."
They sit in silence until the door swings open revealing a very nervous Gustavo. Kelly walks around him, the music producer is frozen still. She leans over the bed, stroking Kendall's hair motherly.
"Poor boy…" She murmurs.
"Do you guys want a moment alone with Kendall? I have to find Katie, but he's scheduled to have his surgery at noon." Mrs. Knight ducks out of the room, but Logan doesn't budge from his spot. Kelly puts her hands on his shoulders as Gustavo pulls up a chair. Suddenly he looks all of six years old. Apprehension running across his face. He looks at Kelly.
"Can he hear me?"
"Absolutely," She promises.
"Look, Kendall. Your…I'm…I'm sorry. It wasn't fair for you to get sick," He looks at Kelly again for direction, she nods encouragingly. He takes a breath and purses his lips, causing his cheeks to puff out, "I never told you how much you really mean to me. You and your pack of dogs taught me so much, loyalty, friendship, you guys changed me. I'm still the awesome producer I was, but now I feel like I have somebody to protect, you dogs are my life, not just for the music. I live for the way you get in my face and fight me on everything, I love the way it makes me feel. I call you guys friends, I didn't even have friends, but now, I feel like I'm going to lose you, Kendall, so I just wanted to say…good luck on your surgery, and I'll be back to visit later…." Gustavo accomplished giving his thanks. His eyes were wet as he looked at his sleeping dog.
"Aren't you going to say 'good bye?'"
"I'm scared if I say 'good bye', it'll be our last," And then he flees.
