* * * * *
An uneventful week went by, while JT waited patiently for Michael to say anything about the progress he and Jenny had made on finding out how they could stop the auction of Warhead Dale. JT had learned patience pretty well when he lived on the Shorts’ farm, but, since he had come back to Athens Eden, he had a hard time finding his patience. Life at the Shorts' had been slow and deliberate.
Oddly, JT and Michael didn’t talk much about their adventure through the mahogany door and into Bruinduer just a few weeks ago. As JT allowed the events to sink in, what they accomplished humbled him. He started, in a peculiar way, to have fleeting thoughts of reckless abandon, urging him to return to the Vryheid world. Maybe a fresh adventure with the right direction might turn out better than the first. An adventure on the swashbuckling high seas might just be what he needed.
Then he quickly remembered that the cane he still possessed was worthless; only the steward of the key could enter the world.
His thoughts always shifted back to Kali at that point.
He wanted to see her again. He could only remember a trace of the lavender scent when she flicked her hair. Burned in his brain, he saw her lying helpless and broken on the desert sands or locked in a kiss with him after the Bridge of Common was destroyed. Though those had been devastating moments, he would almost rather be surrounded by pain and misery in her arms than safe without her.
When JT shook off thoughts of Kali, he did do a few fun things with Michael, like watching some movies or having ice cream, but most days he worked at the diner and then snuck off to his bed to read more of Ol’ Captain Luke’s journal. JT had begun to feel somewhat normal with a normal routine. Then Jenny found the information they needed and his mood shifted.
The silver bell gave off its high-pitched jingle as Jenny stumbled into the diner with two large packing boxes, full to bursting with formal legal documents.
“Hey, JT.” Jenny plopped onto one of the barstools.
JT slid over, leaving his washrag on the counter, and sat beside Jenny. Her ponytail, in a hair tie held together by a few strands of string, looked about to fall apart. JT knew she pulled her hair when reading, so he figured that had led to the tie’s destruction as she read through the numerous documents in the boxes. Despite that, she had an odd smile on her face, as though the exhausting task of thumbing, prodding, and drilling through the mountain of documents was somehow worth it.
“So.” Jenny let out a large breath. She grabbed JT's hand, more for her comfort than his. “I am so sorry that it took me a while to get back to you, JT. I really thought it would be worth just leaving you alone until I found something that could help save your grandfather's house. I should have gotten to you earlier, but time just flew by.”
“It's okay, Jenny,” JT answered. “I really appreciate you looking into everything for me.” Uneasy, JT fiddled with his hands. His chest felt tight.
“Where's Michael?” Jenny’s face dropped. She had hoped he would be there.
“I'm not so sure.” JT paused, looking around. He hadn't realized Michael was gone. With his routine of work and reading his grandfather's journal, he often lost track of Michael and even what day it was.
“Oh. Okay.” Her shoulders drooped. “He really helped me a lot, JT. You should have seen him looking through these old records. He really kept me organized, in his own way." Jenny turned pink and her mind wandered, remembering doing research with Michael.
“So what did you find?” JT asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He thought he learned a lot by reading the journal, but now he felt he might find solid reasons to stay in Athens Eden, reasons to prevent Warhead Dale from being auctioned off.
“Oh, JT, there is so much to go over with you.” Jenny slapped her hand on top of the box bloated with papers. Her voice sounded quite soothing at that moment. For the first time JT could remember, it did not grate on his nerves. “I found out some horrible news about twenty minutes ago, though.”
“Really? What's that?” JT asked with careful curiosity. He tried not to think of it, but for some reason he felt something bad might have happened to Kali. He felt a lump sink down his throat.
Jenny's voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “I found out that Mary Catherine Taylor is sick and dying, JT. I'm so sorry. Michael told me she was a good friend of yours when you were younger.”
JT did not say anything when the name slipped from Jenny's lips. An odd feeling washed over him and an amber haze engulfed his brain. The last times he had seen the mist, the yellow cloud had draped over the world outside of his body. This time, the haze covered his thoughts.
A young girl came into focus, running across what looked like a sports field. What sport, JT could not guess, but the girl jogged over to him and knelt by his side, holding a green water bottle with a white top. Her eyes squinted with concern for a second, then her gaze gave way, her eyes loosening and her face breaking into a caring smile. She lifted his head and squirted the cool liquid in his mouth.
“JT, you're going to be fine,” the young lady assured him. He could smell a sweet flowery perfume mixed with the scents of fruit juice and sweat. It was soothing. JT could feel the fresh liquid slide down his throat. He winced as she caressed the back of his head. JT, though not in pain in the present, sensed that the scene that played in his memory was a time when he had been injured.
The haze swam in his head like a gentle breeze on a sun-drenched day. It felt good; he did not want the thought or emotion to end. He deduced that the young girl was Mary Catherine and he remembered her.
JT jumped from his chair, startling Jenny. “Where is she?” JT's voice came out loud and harsh. “She's dying? I have to go to her now!” The customers in the diner went silent.
Jenny jumped up and took JT's shoulders to calm him. “She's at the county hospice. It's on Terillion Ave. I'll take you if you want.” Jenny nudged JT softly back onto his seat.
JT latched onto the memory of Mary Catherine comforting him on the field. His hands shook and he felt lightheaded. He could not and would not let go of this recall. He had a memory. Even though it wrenched his heart, he remembered something that took place, something that was good in his mind. It made him content and miserable at the same time. The back of his jaw clenched and poignant chills shot up his neck, making his hair prickle. A tear drizzled down his cheek.
“She’s too good to die.” JT couldn’t cough up any more of an explanation.
Jenny explained to Linda what had happened with Mary Catherine and the woman hugged the blonde girl with her soft, plump arms. “Take him,” she said, peering at JT with sad eyes.
Nothing was said during the twenty-minute trip to the hospice. JT sprang from the car, leaving Jenny in the driver’s seat. Using his cane, he limped with purpose into the brick building.
As he entered into the front lobby, a shy, dark-haired girl sat at a desk listening to music with earphones; a sign-in notebook waited in front of her. As JT wondered why she had the earphones, but then he heard cries of sorrow, sadness, and grief coming from a nearby room.
JT realized that it must be hard for young people to work in a place full of death; the music might help.
JT signed his name in the book and left the young worker alone. She peered at him with worried eyes as he limped away. JT shambled down one solemn hallway, the tapping of his cane was the only sound.
He came to Mary Catherine’s room and faced the door, his heart sinking. He took a deep breath and wondered if he was doing the right thing or not. He turned around to walk away, then remembered the night he stood in front of Warhead Dale staring at the double oak doors which held all of the secrets to his past.
Now another door in front of him led to a path to a time he had forgotten, a person who pierced his emotions and memories of lying on a sports field injured. He stopped and wheeled back to the closed door. Regret washed through his veins at the thought of not saying goodbye to a friend he actually could remember, a friend he knew meant a lot
to him.
Very delicately, JT knocked. The decision was made.
A tired young man opened the door; JT could see he had not had much sleep. JT’s throat caught and filled with phlegm. “Hi…my name is JT Davis. I knew Mary Catherine a long time ago, I believe. I played a sport and she helped me one time.”
JT winced at the vague and boring words he was using with the man in front of him, slow, soft, and cumbersome words. But without hesitation, the young man knew he had come to say goodbye to his wife.
“Please come in. I know who you are.” The young man waved for him to walk into the room.
JT thought about all of the people in town and concluded that, if the man knew who he was, he probably hated him like everyone else. Yet Mary Catherine’s husband did not say a word. Obviously, he had only one thought on his mind; he could not care less about JT and his past mistakes. His mind focused securely on his dying wife.
“She was a good person. She had many friends and was an excellent mother and wife. It was a privilege to be her husband. Please sit; I’ll leave the room and give you a little time with her. It probably won’t be long now.” He walked out of the door.
JT stood alone in the dark room that smelled sterile and lifeless. Only a hint of something besides a germicide wafted delicately in the air. JT could not say what it was, but he clung to it.
He could not believe how gracious Mary Catherine’s husband had been. He thought very carefully that if he were married and a stranger came to say goodbye to his dying wife, he, too, would have a hard time turning them away. People touch each other’s lives in so many different ways, no matter how small those ways seem at the time. When faced with mortality, the small things that seem insignificant shine as bright as any major milestone in life’s journey.
The sight of Mary Catherine’s wasted body lying in a hospice bed took JT aback. The room was empty. The end was near. No flowers or cards lined the walls; obviously the family had taken them home. No one else was in the room, but JT and Mary Catherine. It was heartbreaking to think that the only thing left to do was pray and wait.
As JT looked around that cold room, it hit him like a ton of bricks that one day he might be in a similar bed, waiting a similar turn at death. Even sadder, in JT's mind, was the idea that the long-suffering young woman before him had been full of life and hope for the future a short time ago. Cancer, it is said, is a brutal disease.
JT sat on a small stool and touched Mary Catherine’s hand. It did not tremble. Her hair was gone and her broken body motionless.
A tear slipped from JT’s eye. The memory of Mary Catherine was electric. He could remember Mary Catherine’s shoulder length blonde hair and yellow shirt as he buried his head into her sleeve in pain. He could smell a sweet perfume and feel her earring tickle the side of his cheek. He could taste the wetness of his tears and snot as they flooded her sleeve like a rag. He could feel her arms wrap tight around his neck.
JT squeezed Mary Catherine’s hand as she lay immobile. He thought he felt her fingers tighten in response, but thought it was probably wishful thinking.
“Goodbye, Mary Catherine,” JT muttered with effort. “Thank you for showing me compassion when I was hurt. I only hope that we had other times together. Maybe happier times. I pray that you find comfort, too.”
JT stood up and walked to the door. He turned one last time and nodded. He met Mary Catherine’s husband in the hall and embraced him. “Take care,” JT said. “You are a lucky man.”
“Thank you. Yes, I am,” Mary Catherine’s husband answered.
JT walked out of the hospice and climbed back into the car with Jenny. Though the last moments he had spent with Mary Catherine were brief, they were profound.
Jenny did not say a word as JT wiped his face. “I have to go see Kali now.” JT whispered the command. “She could be dead tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Jenny replied. She drove them back to Linda’s diner.
The next morning, a call came into the diner, letting them know that Mary Catherine had passed into her next life.
JT’s face dropped. The diner was silent.