The Tide is High
…the day of the next Teen Cancer Support Group Meeting
Drake hoped that there wouldn't be a big deal made over his time in the hospital. He
did get a humorous card that was signed by Clipboard Ted and everyone in the support
group. Well, not exactly everyone. Drake just wanted to blend in today. He decided
grabbed a bottle of fruit punch from the small open cooler that was on the table.
"Hi, Drake." It was Amy who always wore a California Angels baseball cap.
"Hi, Amy."
"I was sorry to about your hospital stay." She was debating on whether or not to have a
cup of tea or a bottle of juice.
Here it comes"As you can see I'm okay." Drake hoped that wasn't rude, but he couldn't take an hour
of this. He was only going to allow Herbie ask questions, because like Josh he just
couldn't help it and that kid had more problems than all of them here combined.
"I'll see you later. I have to use the little girls room." She put down the bottle of apple
juice that she was going take. Drake hoped he didn't say anything wrong, god his track
record with females was really starting to suck lately.
"How are you, Drake?" was what he heard ten minutes later when Clipboard Ted sat
next to him.
"I'll be fine if people stop asking me how I am. Where's Herbie? He's usually here by
now."
It was just like when kids die in plane crashes or by the hands of the parents that are
supposed to love them it would be one of the most unfair things in the world ever if he
didn't make it.
"He started another chemo session yesterday."
"Oh. Thanks for the card." Drake added. He really was thankful; he just hated being
bombarded about questions about his health.
He was here, wasn't he?
Clipboard Ted didn't lecture him, but Drake wondered if that was because of his cell
phone ringing and him darting off to his office for privacy?
Whatever.
At least I'm not being bothered.
Drake went from wondering about people questioning him about his recent hospital
stay to looking at his watch and noticing this circle session should have started about
five minutes ago.
"Do you think something happened to Herbie?" asked the shy James
who was bald and proud to the whole group.
"Our friend Herbie is doing well," Clipboard Ted entered the room, "I'm sorry that we are
running a little late, but I'm hoping that everyone here will be understanding regarding
what I am about to say."
Why did he look straight at me when he said that?Drake almost dropped the plastic bottle of juice when he saw Emme in the doorway.
Her eyes were downcast and she was shaking while holding a blue envelope.
"That phone call was from Mrs. Watson," Clipboard Ted stood up to help Emme keep
from falling, "It seems that Emme wants to say something to the group."
"Can I stand here?" Her voice was almost non-existent. She couldn't sit in the circle.
Emme would have to look Drake in the eyes if she did that and it was difficult enough
just to do this. She almost puked twice from just general nervousness.
Drake didn't care.
I don't care.
I don't care.
And I'm not going to look at you.
I don't care.
I don't care.
Damn it.
I looked.
Emme's hands shook as she opened the flap of the envelope to take out a piece of
paper. Her eyes were all red and puffy from crying in the car while her mother politely
nudged her to "not be afraid" and that "there weren't any guarantees in life".
"I know my apology cards were not enough for most of the group. But I meant every
word. I know I don't belong here, so I'll keep this short and then I'll be back at home
waiting to die from my cancer. I really am sorry. I pushed everyone away in my life. Who
wants to be friends with a sixteen-year-old 'poor' little rich girl who had to get a
hysterectomy? But, I know I've hurt people, especially one person in particular. For
that I'm really, really sorry," She dropped the paper to the floor, "I can't do this."
She wasn't looking for anyone to chase after her. Emme Jessica Watson was just
relived to feel the air on her face when she got outside.
The planning of this idea was easier than having to go through with it. She just couldn't
do anymore. If that made her a coward in life than so be it.
The car door was locked. What in the Hell? She just wanted her mother, although not
the speediest driver, to get her the Hell out of Dodge.
"So, that's it? You're just going to run then?"
Emme tried to will herself through the steel and be a part of the Lexus. All she could
humanely do was put her head on the window.
"I want my Mom." Emme whispered
"I'm all you got." Mrs. Watson was waiting for her daughter in Clipboard Ted's office
and she nodded her head 'okay' when Drake got to the outside door before she did.
"I said I was sorry."
"There's a difference between saying sorry and meaning that you are sorry." Drake bit
his lip; he was starting to sound like Josh.
Emme turned around, "I meant it. I can't go back in there. They will eat me alive."
"No one is going to eat you alive."
"Do you hate me?"
"No, I don't hate you."
Drake extended his hand and felt the vibrations of a thousand angels clapping when
Emme Jessica Watson finally accepted it.
"I'm holding your hand, Don Juanoma." Emme acknowledged
in a matter-of-fact way as they walked back into the Community Center.
This was going to take awhile, but she knew she could make it as long
as Drake Parker was by her side.
"Yes, you are, Miss Priss. And I'm not letting go."
Drake wished she wouldn't wear such a tight headscarf she shouldn't be ashamed
of anything.
It was only cancer.
It was a small notice. Maybe it was one of those take it one-at-a-time advisory steps
that Drake heard constantly while Josh was watching Oprah when he was trying to
sleep.
But they both were aware of that moment when Emme Jessica Watson actually tried
to smile today.