Advice and Confidence

Tears poured out from the corners of her eyes, and Faith gathered her arms around her head as it fell into her knees. "It's so terrible, Ramona," she nearly shrieked, beginning to allow herself to sob. "It's so terrible. I can't believe this is happening. It's just so surreal. It's like one day I'm walking and I'm fine, and the next day." Though she tried, Faith stopped to let the emotion subside.

Her arms tight around Faith, Ramona rubbed her shoulders. "Shhh," she softly cooed. "Shh.it's okay." An understanding silence fell upon the two. "Just tell me when you're ready. It's okay. You can tell me."

It was several long minutes before Faith could explain her situation, but when she found her voice, she did as Ramona requested. She released, telling her all about the hopes and trials of the past two years, all about her most recent doctor's appointment, and as painful as it was, about her mother's claim that she could heal her.

"I just don't understand," Faith said, her voice slowly returning to a normal tone and level. "How could someone declare such a thing? How could she do that to me?"

A scientifically oriented individual, Ramona found herself at a loss for objective explanation, but not, she reminded herself, for rational critique. "Well." she began. Faith looked up expectantly. "The only reason I can see for why your mother would tell you such a thing is that she truly believes she can."

Taking it in, Faith listened attentively. Truly, Ramona was right. Her mother must have thought it through before she would dare share such information with her daughter, whom she had taken such lengths to raise as well as possible.

Faith looked to Ramona, brushing away the last of her tears. "But what do I say to that?" she asked. "How do I tell her that though I know she thinks she can help me that she can't? How do I tell her that I don't want her trying?"

Ramona shrugged. Though she wasn't sure she knew the answer, she took a stab at it anyway. "That is what you're going to have to figure out," she declared, envying the girl's position in no way possible. "You're going to have to find a way to let her know that she can't heal you, no matter how much she wishes she could."

She nodded again, this time more energetically. "Yes." Faith said, liking the sound of this new and rational idea. "I'll have to tell her. Because we can't go on wishing that things could be so simple."

Ramona nodded. "Indefinitely." She made a derogatory noise, crossing her arms. "I can't believe your mother said that. Fantasies like that are the last thing you need right now."

Faith starred off. "Yeah. You'd think." Suddenly, the girl jumped and looked at her watch. "Oh my God, I missed my bus," she said in a strange voice, the occurrence somehow sounding of less importance in light of current affairs.

Ramona smirked. "Here." Faith felt the weight of two cold quarters in her hand. "Take the extra twenty cents." Ramona's eyes widened and returned to their original size. "Somehow it sounds like you and your mom are going to have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah, seriously." Her hand clutched the two coins. Sitting there, Faith felt an on-slaught of reality setting in, and calmed by that sense, she began to plan her argument. She found herself coming out of her despair. Of course, her mother couldn't heal her. It was physically impossible. Anyone could see that.

Getting up to go to the phone, Faith turned back to Ramona. "Thank you," she said, overcome with gratitude. "Ramona, I had no idea who to talk to about this. I felt like no one would understand."

Feeling a warmth brew inside of her (something she usually avoided at all costs), Ramona reluctantly shared an embrace with Faith. Though rare, she figured could spare one just this once. It sounded like Faith was going through more than Ramona had initially perceived.

Feeling uncomfortable, Ramona broke off the embrace and shooed the girl down the hallway. "C'mon, get out of here. Call your mother." Smiling, Faith nodded and jogged down the hallway in the odd, yet somehow endearing way a girl with faulty kneecaps would.

Ramona let out a snort. If she wasn't careful, that girl was going to give her more Kodak moments that she herself could stomach.