Erin Bennett 1&2 - The End of Forever

by Lurlene McDaniel

  “The sooner, the better,” Shara said. “I like the music, don’t you?”

  Erin was relieved that Shara had changed the subject and was forgetting their earlier disagree ment. She didn’t mean to argue with her friend. “Yeah, it’s good music.”

  Shara broke into the words from the song “Tonight” and whirled around the locker room, her soprano voice echoing off the empty walls.

  Erin listened to Shara’s beautiful voice. It reminded her of springtime, and suddenly she imagined dandelion seeds floating above Amy’s casket. A dull ache began to inch its way up her neck and lodge in the back of her head. “Be careful, or you’ll fall down,” she said to Shara.

  Shara stopped twirling, then reached out and steadied herself on the bank of lockers. “Whoa! You’re right. How do dancers twirl around and not get dizzy?”

  The ache had spread to her forehead, and her eyes began to hurt. She rubbed them. “You have to focus on an object and every time you turn, you have to make sure you come back to that object.”

  “I guess that’s why I sing,” Shara said with a shrug. “Less danger of falling over.”

  Erin dropped to a bench. She began to see pinwheels of color, and the throbbing increased in her temples.

  “Hey, you okay?” Shara asked. “You look white as a sheet.”

  “Did you drive your car today?”

  “No, Dad dropped me off on his way to make hospital rounds. What’s wrong, Erin? Another headache?”

  Erin never tried to keep the headaches a secret from her friend. Her parents had asked Dr. Perez for the names of specialists to treat her when the headaches had first started. “It came on real sudden.”

  “You want me to drive you home in your car?”

  “Could you, please?”

  Shara quickly gathered up their things. “Do you have your pills with you? Maybe you should take some.”

  “Yes, you’re right.” Pain stymied her. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She found the pills, took two without water, and leaned against the lockers. Her breath was shallow. “I wish it didn’t hurt so bad.”

  “Your doctors still haven’t found what’s causing them?”

  “Not yet.” By now Erin was feeling sick to her stomach. She gripped Shara’s hand and allowed her friend to lead her out of the gym. Outside, the late-afternoon light stabbed at her eyeballs like hot needles.

  “This isn’t right, Erin,” Shara muttered. “You can’t go on this way. How are you ever going to do the play—”

  Erin dug her nails into the blond girl’s palm. “Please, don’t say a word to Ms. Thornton, Shara, okay? Not one word.”

  “You know I won’t. But I can’t stand to see you hurting like this.”

  “I want that part, Shara. And I’m not going to let these stupid headaches stop me.” She was dizzy now and very nauseous. She braced herself on the car while Shara fumbled with the key.

  “Even if you have to play opposite David Devlin?” Shara asked shakily.

  Erin tried to nod, but every movement sent fresh waves of agony shooting through her head. “Even that,” she whispered, falling across the seat as the door opened.

  “You need to think of your headaches as a friend, Erin,” Dr. Richardson said Thursday afternoon in her office.

  “Theres nothing friendly about them,” Erin retorted.

  “The headaches are your body’s way of letting tension out. Well be detectives and try to give this friend some tangible features.”

  Erin thought it was a dumb idea, but rehearsals started the next afternoon, so she was desperate to do something about the headaches. “Okay. How do we start?”

  “We look for a pattern. For instance, when do they occur most often?”

  “No particular time.” She shrugged. “They’re just there.”

  “When did you have your last one?”

  “Monday, after play tryouts.”

  “Did the tryouts go well for you?”

  “I got the lead.”

  “Congratulations,” the counselor said heartily. “But did the competing make you tense?”

  “Not really,” Erin answered honestly. “I’ve been auditioning for dance roles all my life. Its part of the fun.”

  “Was it easy being with the other kids? Didn’t you tell me Berkshire was doing the production with you?”

  “When you go to an all-girls school, being around guys is different at first. But some of them are really good-looking. Except one. His name is David, and I don’t like him very much. But I’m going to have to adapt, because he got the part of Tony.”

  “What don’t you like about him?”

  “He came on too strong, I guess. He acted too friendly, sort of Mr. Personality, Life-of-the-Party, you know the type? He wasn’t the one I wanted to get the part either.”

  “What did the others think of him?”

  “Shara, my best friend, likes him. She says he’s a real comedian.”

  “Is that when your headache started?”

  “No. It was later, in the locker room. But I don’t see how David could have set it off. He’s more like a pain in the rear end.”

  Dr. Richardson laughed. “What about the headache before that? When did it come on?”

  They spent some time listing what Erin could recall when each headache started. Most of the events were hazy because of the pain. Still, the pattern seemed undiscernible, and she told Dr. Richardson as much. “Don’t be discouraged,” the therapist said. “Something’s here, we just haven’t singled it out yet.” Dr. Richardson studied her notes briefly. “The headaches started about a year ago, is that correct?”

  “More or less. They got worse over last summer. They slacked off when school started, but they seem to be coming more often now. Since it’s spring, couldn’t it be allergies?” she asked hopefully.

  “But you’ve never had allergy problems before.”

  “So? Allergies could explain everything. I think my parents should take me to an allergist. Don’t you?”

  Dr. Richardson tapped her pencil on her notepad. “We won’t rule it out, but let me ask some more questions first. What happened in your life about a year ago?”

  Erin knew what the therapist wanted her to say, so she chose the most direct, hard-hitting words she could. “I’m sure my parents already told you that my sister, Amy, was in a car wreck and in a coma for three weeks before she died. I’m not ‘retreating from reality,’ if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Where did you hear that phrase?”

  “From one of the doctors Mom took me to in the beginning. I know that my sisters dead and nothing’s going to bring her back.”

  Dr. Richardson frowned. “It was unfair of that doctor to make a diagnosis without a thorough evaluation. We need to look at the total person, not just body parts.”

  “That’s the way they treated Amy,” Erin said ruefully. “There was a doctor for her brain, one for her heart, one for her other organs. They just sort of parceled her out in pieces.” Erin shook her head to chase away the images of machines and monitors and antiseptic smells.

  “YouVe telling me that you hated to see her in that condition, aren’t you?”

  A lump filled Erin’s throat; she swallowed it down. “I know they were trying to save her life, but still it was like she was just some sort of lab experiment. I’ve accepted Amy’s death,” Erin added. “I know I won’t see her again until I get to heaven. So it still doesn’t make any sense for me to have the headaches.”

  Dr. Richardson leaned over the desk and touched Erin’s shoulder. “Your heart hurts, Erin. It hurts so bad, it’s making the rest of your body hurt too. The headaches may involve Amy’s death, but I believe there’s more to it than that.”

  “But what?”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out together.”

  “Don’t you just love Friday night at the mall?” Shara asked Erin as they passed in front of a plate-glass window filled with bright spring fashions. “Everybody’s here.” />
  “It’s too crowded,” Erin said. “If I fell down, I’d get squashed.”

  “Don’t be negative. Maybe if you fell down, you’d get rescued.”

  “By whom? Have you seen some of the scuzballs hanging around this place?”

  Shara let out an “Eek!” of exasperation. “Then lets count tonight as a celebration of the first rehearsal.”

  “It was chaos, and you know it.”

  “True, but it gave me plenty of time to flirt with Seth,” Shara said with a dimpled smile.

  “And me too much time to avoid my leading man.”

  “But why do you want to? David’s so sweet, and he seems crazy about you.”

  “Hes crazy, all right,” Erin muttered.

  “Hes got a smile that lights up the stage, too,” Shara insisted.

  “If you think he’s so terrific, then let’s trade. I’ll take Seth.”

  Shara made a face. “David doesn’t know any other girl is alive. Sorry, Erin, he’s absolutely zeroed in on you.” Shara patted her shoulder. “Tough life, having some guy drooling at your feet.”

  Erin started to retort but heard someone call her name. She turned to see a girl with short reddish hair weaving her way toward her. Erin’s eyes narrowed. She knew the girl but couldn’t quite place her.

  “It’s me, Beth Clark. Remember? From the hospital last year. My mother needed a kidney transplant, and your sister was in a coma. How did it ever turn out for her?”

  Chapter Four

  Seeing Beth again was like seeing a ghost. For Erin she was a painful reminder of the hospital and endless days of waiting. Erin stared at her, unable to speak. Shara must have realized her friend needed rescuing, because she said, “I’m Shara Perez, Erin’s friend. I used to sit with her in the waiting room.”

  Beth nodded. “I remember you. How’s Amy?”

  “She—uh—she …” Shara stuttered.

  “She died,” Erin interrupted.

  Beth’s face looked stricken. “Oh, fm so sorry.”

  “We donated her organs.”

  Glancing around, Beth asked, “Would you like to go to the food court and talk?”

  “Sure,” Erin said, marching off swiftly in the direction of the mall’s fast-food area while the others tried to keep up. Once they’d bought drinks and settled at a table, Beth said, “I’m really sorry about Amy.”

  “You were still in Gainesville when we had her funeral. Then later—” she shrugged and let the sentence trail. “So how’s your mom doing?”

  “All right. But not perfect.”

  “I thought that getting a new kidney would make her well.”

  “She still has to take medication to suppress her immune system so she won’t reject the transplant. The doctors are having a hard time finding the right combination. She’s depressed a lot.”

  Beth let her gaze wander, and Erin sensed there was a lot she was leaving out. “So, how are you doing?” Erin asked.

  “As well as can be expected.”

  “How’s that boyfriend of yours?”

  “We called it quits. Between schoolwork and all the stuff I have to do at home, I didn’t have much time for him.”

  “What stuff?” Shara asked.

  Beth took a sip of her soft drink. “Taking care of my sisters and kid brother. Mom’s not able to do much housework, or even cook, so I have to make sure it all gets done.”

  Shara grimaced. “What a drag.”

  “So what’s going on in your life?” Beth asked, and Erin told her about the play. “Sounds exciting. I was in a play at my school last year, but I didn’t have the time to go out for one this year. Who’s in it from Berkshire? Maybe I know some of them.”

  Erin ran through several names. Shara added, “You forgot David Devlin. He’s got the lead.”

  “David?” Beth said, breaking out into a grin. “I know him. He’s so good! And funny too. You’re going to have a ball playing opposite him.” Erin held her tongue in spite of the “told-you-so” smirk Shara gave her. Was she the only person in the universe who didn’t think David was Mr. Wonderful?

  Beth glanced at her watch. “I promised Mom I’d be back in an hour. It was great to see you again, Erin.”

  “Same here.”

  “Uh—maybe you could call me and remind me about the play, I’d like to see it.”

  Erin suddenly felt very sorry for Beth, thinking how hard it must be for her at home. Even though her family had its problems, at least her basic routine had remained about the same, “I’ll let you know,” Erin told her.

  After Beth had gone, Shara asked, “Do you want to hit a few more stores?” Erin shook her head. “Are you getting a headache?”

  “No,” Erin said, both relieved and disappointed. On the one hand, she didn’t want to face the pain, but on the other she could now be reasonably certain that her headaches had nothing to do with seeing someone who she associated with those horrible few weeks before Amy died. She made a mental note to tell Dr. Richardson. They were no closer to discovering the reason for her headaches than before.

  “Quick! Duck! Devlin’s got a can of slime, and he’s hitting everybody!”

  Seth’s shout made Erin flatten herself against the wall the second she emerged from the theaters dressing room. What now? she wondered irritably. The rehearsal had gone well, but now that everyone was supposed to be getting ready to leave, David was pulling a stupid prank.

  She heard kids giggling and saw Shara slip behind a partially painted flat with Seth. Erin calculated the fastest route to the outside stage door and away from the dumb game. She inched along the wall, spied the door, and prepared to make a dash for it. Suddenly all the lights went out.

  Erin froze, hearing muffled screeches and kids banging into chairs and props. Someone yelled, “You’re dead meat, Devlin!”

  Erin crouched, trying hard to remember the path to the door. An arm shot around her waist and pulled her close against a warm body. A melodramatic voice rasped in her ear, “Now you’re mine, my pretty!”

  “David!”

  “Shh,” he warned. “Don’t give away our position.”

  “Don’t you dare slime me,” Erin hissed.

  “What? I’d sooner deface the Sistine Chapel. No, you’re my hostage.”

  “Let go of me!”

  “Can’t,” David whispered. “Seth and Andy have cans of slime too. It’s them against us now.”

  “I don’t want to play.”

  David seized her hand and pulled her behind him. “Too late. If they see you with me, you’ll get slimed for sure.”

  From the far side of the stage, Andy yelled, “Pinky, turn the lights on.”

  Great, Erin thought. Everybody was involved in the foolishness. She tried to tug away from David, but his grip was tight. “In here,” he said, pulling her down into a large wooden box.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “Prop box,” David said. “I cased it out when I got here tonight. They’ll never find us in here.”

  “You mean you planned this?”

  “Of course. The cast needs to lighten up and have some fun. And so do you.”

  “Ms. Thornton and Mr. Ault will have an attack.”

  “What are they gonna do, fire us?”

  Erin knew he was grinning, even though she couldn’t see his face. “I don’t want to be here with you,” she said, hoping to sound icy.

  “So where would you rather be with me? Just name it.”

  Outside, Pinky shouted, “I found the lights!” The lid of the prop box was closed, so Erin saw only a small stream of light through a crack. Andy called, “Come on out, Devlin. I promise to make this as painful as possible.”

  David scrunched lower and, not knowing why, Erin ducked in tighter next to him. She could tell by the sound of Andy’s voice that he was standing right outside the box. Her heart pounded and she held her breath.

  Next to her, David coiled. He dropped her hand. She sensed what he was going to do and pulled to one side.
With a rebel yell, David flipped up the top of the box, stood, and sprayed a startled Andy directly in the face.

  “He slimed me!” Andy wailed.

  Erin peeked over the edge of the box in time to see five kids emerge from the shadows and surround David, who skidded to a halt.

  “We’ve got him now,” Seth said. “Tighten the ranks,” he ordered. Shara, Pinky, and three boys locked arms and slowly closed inward.

  David shook his can of slime and shrugged. “Gee fellas, I’m all out,” he said.

  “Prepare to die, alien,” Seth said.

  Erin climbed out of the box, wide-eyed, torn between wanting to see David get his just rewards and wanting to see him outwit his friends one final time. Seth hit the nozzle as David did an elaborate pratfall. The movement was so quick, so well timed, and so effortless, that no one saw it coming. The slime spewed across the small circle and doused Shara and Pinky, while David rolled like an acrobat, sprang to his feet, and darted away.

  Erin felt struck by déjà vu as an image of a similar pratfall flashed through her mind. She struggled to bring the memory into focus, but it eluded her like mist, and the screaming and laughing around her pushed the memory even further out of reach.

  Soon everyone scattered, still laughing and talking, to clean off the messy slime. Erin, haunted by David’s pratfall, heard him organizing a trip to McDonald’s. “Hey, Erin, can you come with us?”

  A hard knot of tension was forming at the base of her neck. “I—I can’t.”

  He walked over to her. “Are you mad?” he asked.

  “No. I just can’t come tonight.”

  “Maybe next time?” Erin started to feel desperate to get away. Shara walked past, and David caught her arm. “Can you persuade Erin to come with us?”

  Shara questioned Erin with her eyes. The knot was growing, and Erin felt the tightness inching up her skull. She had to get out of there fast and drive home while she still could. She kneaded the back of her neck, hoping Shara would get the message. “I really can’t,” she said.