Topher found the backpack on another chair by his bedside. He zipped it open and pulled out the binder. It was filled with dozens of letters addressed to Cash; some were handwritten and some had been printed off the Internet. Topher didn’t understand their significance until he recognized the handwriting and saw they were all written by the same person.
“Holy shit,” Topher said. “These are all mine.… You’ve saved every letter I ever wrote to you.…”
“I promise it’s not as creepy as it seems,” Cash said. “Nine years ago when the show started, you were the first person that sent me a letter addressed to my name and not Dr. Bumfuzzle. You didn’t act like the show was real, you didn’t pretend I was anything but an actor doing a job, and you never asked me for any favors. You just thanked me for the work I did and treated me like a person—and I didn’t get that very often. You were only eight when you wrote that first letter and I was only twelve when I read it, but your letter meant the world to me. I had the companies running my fan mail and website keep an eye out for anything else you might send. It was nice knowing there was someone out there who knew I was just a kid and not a quantum physics expert.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Topher said. “There are letters in here that I don’t even remember writing.”
“Oh gosh, I was like your therapist.” Cash laughed. “You wrote to me after the very first episode of Wiz Kids aired and told me how amazing you thought it was. You wrote to me the day you met Joey, Sam, and Mo and said how excited you were to make such cool friends. You wrote to me when your dad took his first teaching job in another state and told me how sad it made you. You wrote to me when your brother was diagnosed with cerebral palsy and told me how much it scared you. You wrote to me on your first day of high school and said how nerve-racking it was. You wrote to me senior year about how worried you were that you wouldn’t be your class valedictorian. Your letters were always so descriptive I felt like I was right there with you! They were the only thing that made me feel like I was a normal kid.”
Topher turned to the last page of the binder and found the letter he had written the actor the night before their trip.
“And then I invited you to join our road trip and you actually showed up,” he said.
The actor teared up and gently nodded. “I needed to say good-bye,” he said. “You know, in each and every letter you thanked me and gave me the credit for your bravery—but I think it was really you who was inspiring me to be brave all along. In an industry that makes a hobby of ripping celebrities apart, and on a set controlled by people who didn’t care for me very much, knowing I had someone like you to inspire made everything worthwhile. You’ve been my hero as much as I’ve been yours.”
Cash’s words made Topher look at his life in a drastically different light. Everything he had ever been through seemed to have a much deeper meaning than the mediocrity it had before. Topher couldn’t believe he was standing at the deathbed of his childhood hero and being made to feel so significant. It sent a wave of emotions through him that he couldn’t handle in front of the actor.
“I need to find the others,” Topher said. “They were parking the car when I came in and I think they got lost. I’ll be right back.”
He dashed through the halls of the Sunny Skies Care Center and ran through the parking lot like a crazy man. His friends were relieved to finally see him but annoyed it had taken as long as it had.
“About time,” Joey said.
“Yeah, I’m so bored I could die,” Mo said.
“Did you talk to Cash?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.” Topher panted. “And I know you guys don’t want to see him—but you really need to come inside.”
“No way!” Mo said.
“We aren’t changing our minds,” Joey said.
“Topher, can we just get back on the road?” Sam asked. “We’ve got so much ground to cover—”
“CASH IS DYING!” Topher blurted out.
All the emotion he had been suppressing rushed out of him like a waterfall. It wasn’t until he said the words aloud that the reality of the situation hit him. Topher leaned against the station wagon, slid down to the ground, and sobbed. His friends got out of the car and approached him like he was a wounded animal.
“Topher, is this some kind of joke?” Sam asked.
“No,” he blubbered. “Cash has been sick this whole time and we never knew! He’s been putting on a show for us since we met him! He’s not a bad person—he’s got brain cancer! That’s why he’s been behaving the way he has! He cares more about us than we could have ever imagined—and we almost drove home without stopping to see him!”
The others had never seen Topher like this before. They knew he was serious and took the news exactly like he did. It was hard to accept but made a lot of sense the more they thought about it.
“I can’t believe this,” Sam said.
“We need to see him,” Mo said.