As the weeks passed, the penguins settled into a routine. Millie called it, 'our daily struggle', and so it was.
Every day, no one spoke of Anna. It was the one thing that they could do to help each other, since it was too hard to bear on your own. No one mentioned her, when she was returning, what was happening, because no one wanted to think about it. There was no way of knowing if she was ever coming back.
Days were long, and uneventful. Conversations were short, and usually wet with a few tears. Millie seemed to have finally abandoned the tough girl act; it was simply too hard for her to be lively without her twin around to keep her in check.
But worse than Millie's suffering, was, I think, Kowalski's. He couldn't stop blaming himself for what had happened. Every night, he had terrible nightmares. And every night could barely prepare him for the haunting realization that when he woke up, the nightmare might come true.
Depressed, lonely, exhausted, Kowalski couldn't find anywhere to turn. He had to have his Anna; he had to. But Anna wasn't around anymore.
It wasn't until about three weeks after she had left for treatment that Kowalski found it.
Hidden in her bunk, beneath her pillow, was the same purple journal he had discovered in the crate the day he had met her. It was a little more worn, true, but the same nonetheless.
And Kowalski felt a wave of sadness wash over him as he saw it. This was Anna's personal journal and book. She wrote in here, nearly every day. In his minds eye he could see her again, with her pencil wrapped awkwardly in her flipper, drawing those squiggles he had worked so hard to know how to decipher.
Feeling a sudden urge to have some part of Anna with him, he flipped open the notebook. Tears welled in his eyes when he saw her name, written neatly in print, on the first page. Blinking them away, he glanced around. Everyone else was outside, so surely it wouldn't hurt to read a little?
He flipped to the second page, where the writing began.
This is the diary of Anastasia Weiss.
Don't read unless you have my permission!
Kowalski sniffed a bit, and gave the page a watery smile. I'm sure Anna would be ok with me reading some of this… he thought, Especially if she isn't… but then he stopped that line of thought before it reached it's conclusion.
Feeling the need to read something that Anna had written about her life here at the zoo made Kowalski skip to the end of the diary, allowing the scribbled words to blur into looping ink pictures as he flipped. Finally, he saw a date he recognized.
August 16, 2009
That's about a week before we came back.
I think I'm getting worse. Sometimes it gets so hard to breathe, but Millie's here to help, so I guess it's not so bad as it would be without her. I worry about her sometimes, though. She seems so upset. I know she worries about me more than she should, and it's making her sick inside. I wish I could help her more, but I'm asleep most of the time now. She gives me more medicine than I really need.
I had another dream about Kowalski. This time, he left but never came back. That's different than all the others. I wonder if I'm losing hope in my mind, even if I don't know it yet. But I still think he'll return.
In fact, I know it.
August 17, 2009
It rained today. I think that helped my spirits a little, to see the world cry like that. I don't know why, but rain has always seemed far more beautiful to me than sunshine has. I guess its because you can't ever see a rainbow without it, and everyone needs a rainbow, right?
Marlene came by this morning, too. She looks nervous around me now, and whispers. I wish she would be herself; don't people know it is so comforting when they don't act differently around you, even when you're sick? I don't blame her though. I caught a glimpse of myself in a puddle this morning, because Millie let me out of bed for a little while. I looked like a zombie! It was so comical, it made me laugh. And then, I don't know why, but I started crying. I guess I just wished the rest of my family was here to laugh with me.
August 18 2009
I wonder if Kowalski ever misses me?
How could I not miss you, Anna?
August 19, 2009
I found Millie crying today, in the lab. She asked me if I was scared of death. At first, I wasn't sure what to say. I kinda am, to tell the truth, but not OF death, just the moment of. I told her why as well; because I wouldn't be at peace if everyone around me was sobbing, and begging me not to go. Somehow, I don't think the dying get much choice when they get to leave, and telling them not to go would be making them feel guilty for doing so. I think I helped her a little, but then (of course) I fainted. She gave me some more meds and I woke up a few hours later.
I know she's mad at Kowalski, and she thinks it's his fault. But it isn't. This would have happened no matter what he had done. He or anyone else, really! But I wish he was here, anyway, if for no other reason than to hold my hand when the time comes, and help me feel happy to leave the world when it does.
At this point, tears started dripping off of the end of Kowalski's beak, splattering the paper with colorless stains. He pulled his head back, not wanting to smear the writing which was so painfully familiar to him.
August 20, 2009
I can't breathe. It hurts to move at all. Headaches. Medicine isn't working anymore; immunity built up. Hard to see what I'm writing down.
I know I'm going to die very soon. I just wish I got to see Kowalski one last time.
Knowing that he was about to break down, Kowalski closed his eyes and flipped back in the journal several pages, as if trying to pretend that he hadn't ever read that, like time could rewind. When he settled on a page, Kowalski opened his eyes and started to read again. He wanted to read something that Anna had written when she was well. Something that the sweet, sunshiny Anna he knew would put down in her diary.
August 20, 2008
How he had flipped back exactly one year, Kowalski couldn't fathom. But when he started reading, his eyes widened. He remembered this day as well as Anna had.
The boys took me and Millie to the beach today! First time ever! It was so exciting! The waves were so, so, huge. I can't even describe them. They were enormous, and cold, and wet! I splashed around a bit with Private and, guess who, Kowalski! I felt so dizzy I almost couldn't breathe. We hunted for seashells together, rode some waves into shore, and got to talk. It was so perfect; it was just like a dream.
And then, on the way home, I got to sit next to him. I swear I was hyperventilating. He is just so…perfect. He's sweet, sensitive, (so smart, too)…I mean, I couldn't ask for someone more amazing than him. I really, truly, think I'm in love.
But when I got home, I was gluing shells up to my bunk roof, and he came over and helped me! We glued them up so I could see them at night, when I look up at the ceiling of my bed. They look like colorful, misshapen stars hanging there. But my favorite is right above my head, and I think it might be my favorite because Kowalski hung it up.
If Jennifer (oops, I mean, Millie) read this, she would tease me forever. So just in case she somehow gets a hold of this, I'd better keep the rest of my sentiment in my head.
Kowalski shut the journal slowly, after reading over that entry two or three more times. Just looking at her spell his name made his heart leap. How could someone so angelic be so sick? He asked himself, over and over, feeling like he was stuck on repeat.
Clutching the journal to his chest, Kowalski carefully bent down the corner pertaining to that day. He had the feeling that he would want to read it again. Sneakily, in case someone else was watching, he stuffed it beneath his own pillow.
Come home, Anna, Kowalski thought, feeling his eyes fill again, Come home.
And then came the day when another new penguin was introduced to the zoo.
The crate was made of pine wood, and it was stamped 'URGENT; FRAGILE!' on the side. It was hard for Kowalski to even look at it. It was just like the crate that…someone…had left in.
Skipper didn't ask Kowalski to open it; didn't even ask him for options. He knew how hard it was for Kowalski to even look at the box without tearing up. So Skipper, taking a crowbar from Rico, opened the crate.
Kowalski looked away. He didn't want to meet a new penguin, to see the way the sunlight glinted off of her beak, hovered on her eyelashes like drops of frozen gold. He wanted Anna. And she wasn't ever coming back, was she? When she left, she was simply too far gone.
He slapped himself mentally. He couldn't allow himself to think like that; Anna had believed in him. She had believed in him when he had left, and now it was Kowalski's turn to believe in her.
And that was when something light, and strawberry scented flung her arms around his neck, laughing with delight.
"Kowalski!" Anna cried, beaming and crying a bit at the same time. She had her face buried in his shoulder, as if she never wanted to let go of him.
And then Millie was hugging Anna, and crying and laughing, and they almost fell off the edge into the water. Kowalski drug them off of him, pulling Anna back so he could look into her green eyes, those eyes that he had seen so many times in his dreams. "Anna?" he whispered, not believing what he was seeing. "Is that…are you…?"
"Of course it's me, Kowalski! I'm here, and I'm well again, and everything's fine." She was so beautiful, with her eyes glowing like stars, her head feathers much shorter than they were when she had left. Chemotherapy, he realized, loving her all the better for it.
But then she turned to greet her sister and the others, and Kowalski had a moment to catch his breath. This was too right; too perfect. Something had to be wrong. Someone so truly breathtaking couldn't be his, could she?
And then Anna turned back to him, and kissed his cheek. She wrapped her arms around his neck again, and whispered, sounding so relived to be home. "I missed you." She said, closing her eyes.
And Kowalski realized in that moment that everything could be perfect, after all.
