His Name was Ben

by Paulette Mahurin

  “I like that.” He took hold of her hand and pressed it against his lips. “I like that a lot.”

  “I’d say, all things considered, you’re doing great.”

  “You’re being out of that bandage isn’t hurting anything either,” he laughed.

  Kissing his chin, moving down, relieved he wasn’t in pain and was tolerating their intimacy, “I told you you’d get lucky.”

  “Ahh,” he nestled her head in his hands, “that feels so good.”

  Day by day, Sara’s passion grew, and so did her effort to please him. Pushing aside thoughts that robbed them of quality time, they discovered new ways to be tender and trusting. Lying beside him, she purred, “We’re creating great memories.”

  “Yes, we are,” he kissed her forehead. “I hear crickets. Let’s go see.”

  “Have you ever seen a cricket?” she laughed.

  “Yes, I have, even in daytime trying to hide in the grass.”

  Out on her deck, she said, “Ben.”

  Watching the sky streak pink and fade to gray, “Yes.”

  “I just wanted to say your name.”

  “Be my guest, honey.”

  As the last of daylight moved below the horizon, the night’s din grew louder. “You like the sound of insects chirping. I like the sound of your name.”

  Wrapping an arm around her, “Do you know why crickets chirp?”

  Pressing his hand, “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

  “Contrary to popular belief, it’s not from rubbing their legs together. It’s the male calling to the female.”

  “You’re having me on.”

  “No seriously, the male’s wing is constructed with ribs and scrappers that make the noise. They even have different tones, the loud song to attract the girl, soft courting when she’s near, an aggressive chirp to ward off other males, and a different one after they’ve copulated.”

  Looking up to his watchful, inquisitive face scouting her lawn for the source of what his ears were hearing, “You’re not messing around, are you?”

  “It’s fascinating when their symphony grows louder, one of the many voices of the night. I wondered about it and looked them up on the web. The more I study things in nature, I see how alike we are, especially the noise they make after the sex part,” he chortled.

  “My own private all-living-things tutorial.”

  “Yeah,” he breathed in the scent of orange blossoms.

  “We’re so lucky we both love the outdoors.”

  Spending as much time outside as they could brought them to a synchronicity with every living thing. Ben motioned to the cypress tree off the deck, “We give it carbon dioxide and it gives us oxygen.”

  “I know.” She felt her chest’s motion. “The dance of life. So beautiful, Ben.”

  In accepting their fate, and directing their attention to the real world as it moved moment to moment, they found inner peace, with each other and individually.

  Wednesday came with Sara dressed in beige linen slacks and a light pink silk blouse, Ben in his khaki pants with an azure polo sport shirt, highlighting his blue eyes.

  “We’re ready,” yelled Sara, and when Ellen trundled down the hall with Tazzie in tow, she was surprised. “Look at my girl! So cute!” On the sly, Ellen had made a pink dog top for Taz, on which was an inscribed heart, Congratulations mommy Sara and daddy Ben.

  “Aww, Tazzie, you look spiffy all decked out.” Ben turned to Sara. “And you,” he gave her the once over, “are gorgeous as ever.”

  Piling into the car, Ellen drove, with Ben, Sara and Tazzie in the back seat. “It’s great that they’re letting you bring Taz,” said Ellen as they made their way to the County Clerk’s Office.

  Rosalie and Irving were waiting in the corridor outside the room Ben and Sara were to be married in. They were overdressed for the weather, she in a knit suit and he in wool pants and a shirt with a tie. Sara was sure that was her mother’s doing. On seeing Sara approach, Rosalie reached out and touched her daughter’s pants. “Linen, for once you’re dressing nicely. You should do this more often.”

  Irving grabbed Rosalie’s arm and moved her through the door.

  “Give me the word and I’ll muzzle her,” Ellen said, tightening the rein on Taz. “Or better yet, throw her down the stairs.”

  “Shh,” Sara laughed it off.

  Inside, Ben paid the forty-five dollars for the short and sweet ceremony, followed by hoorays from the staff as he kissed his bride.

  Back at Sara’s for a celebration around the dining room table, Ellen poured everybody sparkling apple cider. “A toast,” she raised her glass. “To my best friend, Sara, and her hubby, Ben. May love stay with you always, no matter where life takes you.”

  “Here, here,” added Irving.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Ben laughed. “But let me add,” he looked at Sara, “to my wife, the woman who brought meaning to my life and taught me that time isn’t measured by the clock but by the moments of shared love. I love you, Sara.”

  Seeing Rosalie dab her eyes with a napkin, Sara was overcome with emotions. “I don’t have adequate words…”

  “Saying nothing works for us,” smiled Ellen.

  The evening moved on with carefree chatting until Sara saw her father yawn. “It’s late, how about spending the night?”

  “We don’t have pajamas or a change of clothes,” protested Rosalie.

  “I’ve got things you can wear,” and when Sara saw her mother in one of her t-shirts and baggy sweat pants, she cracked up.

  “You’ll asphyxiate in that.” Irving continued joking, “She won’t sleep naked,” throwing them into hysterics.

  Ellen offered up, “You want to try something of mine?”

  “You’re larger than Sara,” Rosalie gave her a stern look.

  “Oh come on Rosalie,” Irving pinched his wife’s rear, “let’s have a look at you in something I can easily get off.”

  Rosalie, whacking his hand away, broke into rare laughter. It didn’t last. Seconds later, in her usual form, she stretched out the pant leg a good eight inches from the side of her body and sarcastically asked Sara, “When are you going to get rid of these junky clothes?”

  “Go to sleep, mom.”

  The following morning, they had a light breakfast before Irving and Rosalie left and Ellen drove Sara to UCLA for her treatment. Ben phoned his brother and Candace to bring them up to date. There was no mention of his parents.

  Arriving home to find a couple of electrical cords leading out to the back deck where Ben was blowing up an air mattress, Sara asked, “What’s this?”

  Scrunched down by the inflatable bed, he looked up at her. “Our honeymoon. I’ve been busy planning the perfect trip.”

  Ellen came out to see what was going on. “What’s with the floor heater?” referring to the one he had next to where he was working.

  “Don’t trip on that,” he pointed to the electric wire leading to the plug in the house. “It’s for later when it gets cooler. I don’t want my bride to freeze.”

  “You’re too much,” said Ellen. “Come on Tazzie, let’s go for a walk.”

  With the sun slowly setting and the moon rising, Sara felt the air start to chill. “You’re sure it won’t be too cold for you out here?”

  “We’ll be okay.” Turning on the heater for show, “See, it works. Just in case.”

  Knowing how much he loved nature, how it lifted his spirits, she wanted to accommodate him, to help him be a part of it as long as she could. She bent down to kiss him and turned the heater off. “Probably won’t need this.”

  “We’ll keep each other warm counting stars till we drift off like birds perched for the night.”

  “Nicely said, my poet laureate.”

  “You just gave me an idea.” He finished with the bed, plugged the nozzle, and rose to leave.

  She watched him take his time to get up, using his hand to steady himself holding onto a deck chair. She was glad they weren’
t dwelling on how he was feeling, hour-to-hour; he didn’t want to. He made that very clear when he told her it didn’t help him. He didn’t want to regurgitate what had already happened and focusing on where he was heading was counterproductive. Since the medication was keeping him comfortable and his mood was good, that worked for her. “Where you going?”

  “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”

  The nearly full moon cast enough light for Ben to see the piece of paper in his hand. As they lay snuggled into a down sleeping bag atop the airbed, “Here’s my other wedding present to you.” He then recited:

  In the shadow of eve you found me

  To the light of morn you pulled me

  From the bare cave of my loneliness

  To the fullness of your meadow we fled

  To romp in the grass

  To smell the flowers

  To fly like birds

  To count the stars

  “What a beautiful surprise. You wrote that today?”

  “Yes.” Looking to the starry night, “You see there, it’s Orion. I gift it to you, a forever keepsake. Whenever you want me,” he pointed up, “I’ll be there.”

  She kissed his cheek, shoulder, arm, everywhere her lips could go over his jaundiced body. “Including every last star, that’s how many lifetimes we’ll have together.”

  “That’s a great big universe out there.”

  “Exactly,” she cuddled into him.

  “Do you know that our Milky Way galaxy has around two hundred billion stars in it? Not to mention other galaxies, astronomers estimate that there are approximately one hundred billion to one trillion.”

  “Okay, Mr. NASA, you made your point.”

  “Nope, I made your point. I just quantified forever,” he laughed.

  They talked and listened to the sounds of the night and awoke to the sun beating down on them. Tazzie now by their side, the coffee permeating from the kitchen, “God bless, Ellen,” said Ben.

  “Yes, she’s a wonderful friend.” The fullness in Sara’s heart was inexplicable. Were it not for Ellen, none of this with Ben would have happened.

  The three of them sat outside and had their coffee with toast. “My brother’s coming down,” said Ben. “I told him not to but he insisted.”

  Sara knew Ben had spoken with Michael when Ellen took her to UCLA. “What about his schedule?”

  “He cleared it. Candace is coming with him.”

  “When?” asked Ellen.

  Sara, grateful for the lull in the storm, watched Ben contemplating what he was about to say, looking better than when he arrived back from the hospital. She appreciated how none of this, our existence, is under our control. One minute you can be dying and the next a miracle happens in the form of a remission, a new drug, or some other stroke of luck. She also knew that Ben’s good attitude helped his immune system function to better hold at bay what would otherwise ferociously march in.

  “They should be on their way,” he responded.

  They figured out the arrangements for all of them to be at Sara’s. Ellen would continue to work the next two days, sleep over, and spend time with them on her days off. When Ellen tried to insist that she could go back to her place, “You’re family, El,” said Sara, who would not have it any other way.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The coastal fog bank was late in clearing, leaving behind a sultry, midafternoon air, thick with humidity and enervating Sara, in the kitchen prepping salad for dinner. Ben was resting outside and Tazzie hadn’t left the front door since Ellen went to work. Her barking alerted Sara that Michael and Candace had arrived. Entering, they were instantly impressed by the arts and crafts appearance of her place. “Very nice,” said Candace. “Hey there,” she bent to pet the dog, “little miss rottie.”

  “It’s hot here,” commented Michael, leaning in to hug Sara.

  Sara felt the moistness on her body, running rivers of perspiration. “More humid than usual.”

  Michael wore a worried, squinting expression as he looked around for his brother. “Where’s Ben?”

  He was on the wooden swing at the back of the lawn.

  “You didn’t see him when you pulled in?” Wiping her hands on the apron she was wearing, Sara took it off and threw it over the nearest chair. “Come on, let’s go find him.”

  The grass, soggy from watering, sloshed under their feet as they made their way to Ben. “You have a creek,” Candace eyed the grounds, “and so many trees. What a great piece of property.”

  “You can hear the water flowing when it rains, which isn’t that often.”

  “Yeah, the drought’s a problem down here,” commented Michael, noticing the dry patch by the rose bushes.

  Catching sight of Ben a few feet away, slouched over with his eyes closed, Sara raised her voice, “Wake up, sleepyhead.” His non-responsiveness panicked her and in a knee-jerk reaction, she rushed to him. “Ben!”

  Michael spun around from looking at the flowers, and ran full force to his brother. Nudging a shoulder, he instinctively felt for a pulse. “Ben,” he shook him harder.

  Lethargic and jaundiced, Ben slowly stirred. “Oh wow,” he slurred. “Hey, Mike, you’re here.” He looked at their frightened faces. “I must… have fallen asleep.”

  Sara was still shaking from the adrenaline rush. “You okay?”

  “It’s hot out,” Ben pulled his wet t-shirt away from his skin. “I don’t do well in this dampness.”

  “Where’s your water?”

  Ben barely moved his lips into a sheepish grin. “I left it…”

  Michael put an arm around his brother. “Let’s get you into the house and get some fluids in you.”

  Sara’s attempt to assist Michael was circumvented by Candace stepping in. “Why don’t we let Michael help Ben?” Once they were out of earshot, “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “The weather isn’t helping Ben.” Sara’s legs grew weak. “He’s also off chemo now.” It’s got to be the heat. He seemed okay when we made love last night.

  “Yes, Ben told us that was his decision on the phone.”

  “He doesn’t want any more needles or hospital visits.”

  “That’s understandable,” Candace shifted her position out of the sun’s glare. “How are you doing with this?”

  “Me?” Sara wiped sweat from her face, “I’m okay.” She didn’t want to dredge up the reminder she lived with daily that Ben’s time was running out. “I think we’re both doing okay, considering.”

  “Let’s sit down here,” Candace motioned over to the swing. “I’m concerned about you.”

  The weight of a sumo wrestler pressed in on Sara’s chest. “Please don’t be… We’re managing.” She rested in the hope that a miracle could happen. There could be another study, a spontaneous remission. She didn’t want to entertain any other thoughts, even though her head told her differently and inside, in her gut, she knew what no one needed to tell her. Her heart and head disagreeing with each other raged a war.

  Seeing the torment in Sara’s eyes, “If you need to talk…” Candace’s tone emphasized urgency. “The stress could interfere with your own health. I’m not just here for Ben,” she asserted, “I’m here for you as well. We caregivers need support also. Please let me help.”

  Knowing Candace meant well didn’t change the fact that Sara felt cornered. Although reluctant, she knew she needed to communicate to put Candace’s mind at ease. She opted to open up about her own situation. “I need to be able to trust you.”

  Softening her demeanor, “You can,” responded Candace.

  “I think I’m going into remission so please don’t worry about me.”

  “That’s great, Sara.”

  “Last week the scan showed regression of several hot spots. Of course, I’ll need follow-up scans but I want you to know I’m okay. I can handle what’s going on with…” Teary-eyed, “I love him so much.”

  “Oh Sara, sweetie. It’s very difficult. But I’m relieved to hear about your news.
Ben must be happy about it.”

  “I haven’t told him.”

  Surprised, Candace flushed, “Really?”

  “No, I don’t want to put the focus on me. I don’t want to jump the gun and then be disappointed if it’s a fluke. I won’t do that to him. I just found out last week. We’re managing and not talking about our illness with each other. I told you so you wouldn’t be troubled about how I’m doing.”

  Candace pulled back, “Don’t you think he’d want to know?”

  “No! Please, Ben doesn’t want to talk about being ill. He never brings it up. What’s the point? We talk about other things.” She tried to clear away the lead balloon stuck in her throat. “We don’t need to bring up the obvious. I start to talk about my news and he withdraws.” Wiping tears, “And it’s not yet definitive with mine. If that happens, I’ll inform him. ”

  “I appreciate where you’re coming from. I won’t mention anything though it’s a good idea to share it with him when the occasion is right.” Candace reached over to put a hand on Sara’s. “How about we take a little walk around the property to give your bloodshot eyes a chance to clear up?”

  Michael, in the bedroom with Ben, watched him nod off.

  “Did you talk… to Zimmerman like,” Ben sucked saliva from the side of his mouth, “I asked you to?”

  Michael tried to veer off the topic. “How ’bout getting some rest and we can talk about it later?”

  “What’d he… say to you?’

  “I don’t think this is a good time to…”

  “I want to know.”

  “Ben…” Michael stopped himself.

  Adjusting a pillow, Ben sat up straight, determined to stay awake, “Mike, tell me.”