“Alyssa is very dear to my heart and I will miss her.” Sutton’s voice cracks a little. “I wish I could save her, and, Alyssa, if you can hear me, I am so sorry I failed you.” I sniffle as he says those last words. “I remember one time I fell asleep in her chair and she threw a cup of water on me to wake me up.” Sutton and I laugh, but then he grows serious again. “The virus beat her down and she withdrew for a while… until she met you. Lexi, she lights up when you’re around her. I never saw her so happy. Honestly. Thank you.”
I wipe the salty tear gliding over my lip and hiccup again. He laughs. “The truth is she helps me more than I help her. I truly love that girl.” I have to stop to keep from blubbering more. He gives me another squeeze, wipes his eyes, and stands.
“We have to go down to the main supply closet on the first floor to grab a few things,” he says.
“But—”
“It’ll be quick. Come on let’s go.”
I whisper in Alyssa’s ear that we’ll be right back and then accompany Sutton to the supplies. He fills my arms with gauze, a Foley catheter kit, staple removal kit, and some other items I’ve never heard of.
“All right, that should do it.” His pager starts to beep. He puts his things down, reaches for his pager, and holds it closer to his eyes. His face turns white.
“No!” I drop the items to the floor, turn, and sprint down the hall.
“Wait for me,” Sutton calls out to me.
I keep running, feeling frantic. I swing open the door to the stairs and take two or three steps at a time. I push through a slow crowd, and ignore their indignant expressions. “Get out of my way!” I slip through them and around them like liquid in rocks. Two men block my way. “You have to move. I need to get to her!”
“Maybe you should learn some manners,” a man with white hair says to me.
I have no idea what his problem is, but it causes me to erupt. “I’m tired of being polite. Now get out of my way!”
“Nope.”
“Let her through!” Sutton yells from a few flights down.
He doesn’t budge.
“Screw it.” I throw a punch directly into his groin. He topples over groaning and I leap past him. My lungs burn and my legs feel gummy. When I reach the eighth floor, I have to take a second to catch my breath because I’m light-headed.
When I look down, I see Bertha standing outside of her door crying. No, please no! Like lightning, I run. I turn to go in her room when Bertha grabs my arm.
“What are you doing? Let go of me.”
“She’s still with us,” Bertha says.
“Oh, thank you, God.”
Sutton joins us. “What’s wrong?” He huffs the words out.
“She’s talking to her mother. She wants to go with her mother.”
“Her mother’s here? Now, after all this time she decides to show up and see her daughter? No way she’s leaving. I won’t let her—”
“Her mother’s dead,” Sutton says.
Then I remember, the book said sometimes when the end is near, they can see people who’ve died before, and it’s possible they might talk to them. You’re not supposed to tell them they’re wrong because it only makes the patient more anxious.
“Okay, I get it. Now can I see her?”
Sutton nods his head.
Nothing can hold back my tears. I hurt all over. I have no idea how I move my legs, but eventually I get to her and she smiles.
“Don’t be sad,” she says softly. “My mommy wants me to go home, and she said they’re going to let her. I’m going to get out of here. Can you believe it? I won’t die a sinner in the Hole. I never thought this was possible.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you. Do you want me to pack your things for you?” I choke out.
“Oh, that would be great because we have to leave soon.”
My body wants to convulse and my eyes want to pour the agony forth, but I do everything to hold it back. A single tear escapes and she feels it trail down her arm. She looks up at me, her glassy eyes opening wide.
“Please, come with me. I don’t want to leave you.” She gasps for air.
“I wish I could, so much, but now’s not the time for me. There’s some things I need to take care of first.”
“When you’re done, will you come?”
“Of course.” I get under her covers and hold her in my arms. She rests her head on my shoulder.
“I’m so tired.”
“I know,” I say.
“Lexi.”
“Yes.”
“You’re my best friend. I love you.”
Like a waterfall, my tears spill over, drowning me. “And you’re mine.” I sob now. “I love you too, so much.”
“Thank you for saving me.” I feel her tears falling on my arm.
“Thank you for saving me,” I say back to her because she did. Somehow, this girl found a way into my heart, and taught me how to live, how to care, and most importantly, how to love someone.
“My mom’s here now. Should I go with her?”
Every part of me wants to tell her no because I’m not ready—stay a little longer, tell your mom to come back tomorrow. But I know that’s me being selfish, because I’m not ready to say good-bye and lose her forever. I want to hold her tight and keep her from leaving, although I know that won’t keep her with me. I kiss her on the head.
“It’s okay. Don’t keep her waiting. I’ll see you soon,” I say through my sobs.
“Promise?” she says.
“When it’s time for me to go, I’ll come find you. I promise.”
“Did you hear my mom?”