The noise of the lunchroom was deafening. The kids had to yell at their friends just across the table, and this caused more noise, which only added to the din. The kids in Mrs. Wickley's class were all talking and laughing while they ate, as any normal fourth grader would do. At the end of the table, in a world of his own, John Carter sat with his head leaned on a fist. He absentmindedly poked a fork in his half-eaten meatloaf. He hadn't said a word all day, and no one really noticed him. Except Caleb, who kept shooting him venomous glances. But John was not concerned with aggravated classmates. He was in a world of his own, thinking about Bobby, about his parents, his sister, his grandparents......

Linette was on her lunch break and she noticed John sitting at his table. She decided to go talk to him. She slid into the empty seat across from him. "Hi John!" She said. He didn't seem to notice her. She frowned. "What's the matter?" she asked the boy.

"Nothing," John grumbled.

"Nothing? Are you feeling sick? You haven't eaten much." she asked, surveying his plate.

"No," he said shortly.

"Well what is it?" she questioned.

Without taking his eyes off of his meatloaf, he replied, "Bobby got really sick and an ambulance had to take him to the hospital. I'm going to see him today."

Linette was truly sorry for this development. She knew Bobby must not have very long left. She tried for a subject she knew something about. "I'm sure the doctors and nurses are going to take very good care of him. I'm going to be a nurse. Did you know that? I'm starting nursing school next fall," she said.

He looked up for the first time, interested. "Really?"

"Yep," she said. "I've always wanted to be a nurse in pediatrics. That's where kids go when they get sick or hurt." She paused. "What do you want to be?" She was trying to make small talk and hopefully get John to open up eventually. John shrugged. "Well what do you like to do? What are you good at?"

"I like to read," John said. "I'm good at almost every subject. I think I maybe want to be a writer, and a teacher, and a scientist...."

Linette smiled. "I'm sure you'll be them all," she said. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost time for her to get back to the healthroom. She hadn't really eaten anything, but she didn't care. "I've got to get back to work, and you've got to get back to class," she said, standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow, John." She waved as she walked off, and John felt a little bit better than he had ten minutes before.



By the time school ended, John was anxious to go see his brother. He had finished his portrait of Bobby that afternoon in art class, this time uninterrupted. He had drawn him with a smile on his face and hair on his head, the way he would always picture Bobby. He peddled his bike quickly down the sidewalk. He was smiling, and enjoying the feel of the wind in his face. Suddenly, it was as if a weight were dropped down on him. An ominous black feeling filled his heart. Something was wrong. He knew it must be Bobby. His bike coasted to a stop, and he stood there, as his eyes lowered to the sidewalk. He closed them for a moment, and it was as if he could hear his brother's voice laughing again, and feel Bobby's hands messing up his hair. When he opened them, he knew. Bobby was dead. Despite all the reassurances from his family and friends, John knew that his brother had died. It was as if someone had torn his heart in two.

He gathered enough strength to peddle his bike home. He didn't bother to put it up, though. He left it on the front porch and ran inside. He found Gamma and Nell sitting on the couch next to each other, both of them in tears.

Nell saw her brother enter, and felt a pang in her heart. She would never again see her other brother arrive home from school. She would never hear his laughter, or his tears. She would never be able to pick on him. She would never be able to see him grow up, to graduate, to get married, or to have a family. Bobby Carter would never have any of those things. They had been taken from him. Nell realized then how much John meant to her. She gave him a hug as he approached her. "Hey Scrub," she said, through her tears.

"Nell..." John began. He didn't have to ask what was the matter. He had already felt it, and he saw the sorrow in Nell and Gamma's faces. "Bobby's dead isn't he?" he asked quietly.

Gamma let out a sob, and pulled her grandson into a hug. Nell joined, and soon they were all sitting on the couch, crying and holding onto each other like they would never let go.

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Bobby Carter died in his hospital bed in Chicago that spring day in 1979 , at the age of 12 years old. There was no amount of medicine or surgery that could have saved him. The leukemia had made him too weak to carry on. Jack and Eleanor Carter were both there. Jack had cried quietly, but managed to contain himself to a degree. He had known this day would come for some time now, and he had already done most of his crying. Eleanor, on the other hand, had refused to believe that the cancer would kill Bobby. She had denied it to everyone, and more importantly, to herself. When Bobby did pass away, her reaction was quite odd. At first she refused to believe it, saying that there must be something more the doctors could do to save him. Finally, she just turned and walked out of the hospital silently.

It was two days later, the day of Bobby's funeral. The entire Carter family was there- aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws. They were all there, and most of them barely knew Bobby. There were also various business acquaintances of Jack and John Carter, Sr. Gamma stayed with her husband, who had gotten in from Paris the day before. They accepted condolences from friends and family alike. Everyone was talking about what a tragedy it was, how Bobby was so young and had so much potential. A few of Nell's friends from school, including her new boyfriend Brett, were there to comfort her.

John had not invited any of his friends. It was partly due to the fact that he didn't really have any close friends, and partly because he didn't want anyone else to have to share in such an experience. After the service, several people placed flowers on Bobby's grave. Then they began to get in their expensive cars and head back to the reception at the Carter Mansion.

John walked over to Bobby's grave, and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. He unfolded it, and stared at the image. It was the picture he had drawn of Bobby. "I brought you this, Bobby, " he began. "It's a drawing I made of you. It's how I want to remember you." He looked at the cold gray tombstone that now represented what his brother was- gone. "Not like you are now," his last words were choked by a sob. He wiped the tears from his face, and leaned over, placing the drawing by the grave. "I know you used to pick on me, and I'm sorry if I ever got mad at you for it. I wouldn't have if I had known..." he started to cry again. "I'll miss you Bobby. And I'll never forget you," he finished. John stood staring at the tombstone and the picture beside it.



A shadow appeared, and John turned around to see Linette standing there. It was evident that she had been crying, too. She didn't say anything, didn't offer any reassurances or false hopes. She simply enveloped the boy in a hug, and gave him the one thing that he needed- a shoulder to cry on. And more than that, someone to cry with.

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By the time everyone got to the reception, it had turned from an event of mourning to a social event. This was greatly due to Eleanor Carter. She was acting as if nothing had happened at all. Not as if Bobby had never died, but as if he had never lived. Whenever anyone brought up the one subject which should have been foremost at everyone's minds, she quickly changed the subject. She even snuffed those who wanted to share some happy memory of Bobby's short life.

Jack Carter was worried about his wife. He was standing and talking to his parents, and all the while watching Eleanor laughing with some guests out of the corner of his eye.

"I wish I could have gotten here sooner, son," John Sr. said. "I just never imagined..."

"None of us did, John," Gamma said, clasping her husband's arm. He took her hand in his own.

"Excuse me for a moment," Jack said, heading in his wife's direction. He tapped her on the shoulder, and got her attention. "Can I talk to you, Eleanor?" he asked.

Eleanor smiled at him. "Of course. Excuse me," she said to her guests.

Jack lead Eleanor away from the crowd, down the lawn to the shade of a large oak tree. "Eleanor.... how are you doing?" he asked his wife hesitantly.

She looked puzzled. "What do you mean? I'm fine," she answered.

Jack took a deep breath and let it out. "Eleanor, it's ok to be sad. We all are. We all have to accept that Bobby died..."

Eleanor tried to push her way past Jack. "I don't want to talk about it, Jack," she said, passing him and heading toward the house."

"Ignoring the pain won't make it go away!" Jack called after her. But she didn't even bother to turn around.



Nell's friends had all gone home after the service. She didn't blame them. Who wanted to stick around and listen to a bunch of arrogant businessmen talk about money, anyway? The only good part about the reception was the food. She had managed to grab some and head inside to the secluded music room. She was sitting on the piano bench eating it when John and a woman whom she recognized but could not name walked in.

"Hi Nell," John said.

"Hi John. Are you hungry? Here, have some caviar," she offered her plate to him.

He attempted a smile. "Ewww. That stuff is gross. No thanks. Nell, this is Linette. She is the nurse at my school, and she's going to be a real live nurse someday," he said.

Linette shook hands with the high school student. "Pleased to meet you, Nell," she said. Nell nodded. There was a brief silence. "This is a nice house you have," she finally commented. Which was a vast understatement. It was an amazing house. She could not even begin to fathom how much it was worth.

"I guess," Nell said softly.

Linette did not want to get on the subject of Bobby again, and cause John or his sister any more distress than they were obviously already feeling. "So, do either of you play any of these instruments?"

John shook his head. But Nell answered, "Yeah, I play the harp. Want me to play something?" Linette nodded. She had honestly never seen anyone play the harp before, but she had heard recordings of them, and they were beautiful instruments. Nell sat down, and positioned her fingers. Then she began to pluck and stroke the golden instrument. The chiming music was mellow, but not entirely sad. It conveyed a feeling of sorrow but acceptance. Nell was playing from the heart.

When Nell finished, John and Linette were both staring at the harp with contemplating looks on their faces. "That was lovely, Nell," Linette whispered.



Jack had been wandering the halls of the mansion, and the grounds, looking for his wife. He had just about given up the search, when he saw her. She was standing in one of the halls, staring at a picture on the wall. Jack slowly approached, and soon noticed that she was looking at a painting of Bobby and John that had been done only six months before. It conveyed perfectly John's ever-inquisitiveness, and Bobby's cheery smile. Jack didn't say anything, he just stood.

After a long silence, Eleanor spoke. "He was always so happy before," she said quietly. "He always liked to tell jokes. And then there came the cancer, and all of the doctors, and all of the tests and treatments. They made him so weak and grumpy." She shook her head. "We never should have let them do all those things to him. We should have just let him go peacefully."

"Eleanor," Jack said. "Those treatments gave him at least a year of extra time. We couldn't have hoped for better than that. It was just his time."

"But it wasn't his time!" Eleanor shouted, turning to face her husband. "It wasn't his time! He was only a boy! He had a future. Who is going to take over the business someday when you have to retire?"

"Eleanor, my father hasn't even retired yet," Jack said.

"Someday he will, and then you will, and who is going to keep it going?" she demanded.

"John can do that," Jack said. "I'm sure he'd be very good at it."

Eleanor shook her head. "No, it won't be the same. Nothing will ever be the same again." And with that, she walked off down the hallway, once again oblivious to the sorrow around her.

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