Someone Dies, Someone Lives

by Lurlene McDaniel

  As Katie left the hospital, the whole transplant team, the nurses on the ninth floor, and every member of the staff who’d worked with her lined the hallway and applauded. She sat in the wheelchair in jeans and a sweater, holding a bouquet of roses, her parents on either side of her. As she rolled toward the elevator, watching their faces, seeing their smiles, hearing their good wishes for her, she cried.

  At the elevator, Dr. Jacoby pushed the button for the lobby. “Are they clapping because they’re glad to be rid of me?” she quipped to the doctor.

  He laughed. “That’s right. They never want to see you up here again—unless it’s for a friendly visit.”

  Barry offered up the Vulcan peace sign, “ ‘Live long and prosper,’ ” he said. “You call me if you need anything.”

  She had lists of information and fistfuls of pills going home with her. At the lobby door, looking outside into the cold November morning, she experienced a twinge of panic. Here in the hospital, she was surrounded by people who could help her at a moment’s notice. At home, she’d be depending on her parents and herself. The idea was scary. She didn’t want to be dependent on her parents. She’d spent sixteen years learning how to be independent of them. What if something came up none of them could handle?

  Katie could tell by the pinched expression on her mother’s face that she, too, was feeling the strain. When her mom helped Katie into the car, Katie felt the icy coldness of her hands and realized that her mother was probably panic-stricken. All of them had a lot of unwanted responsibility thrust upon them because of her transplant. She told herself that if she was ever going to break free again, she’d have to be the strong one and act unafraid. “Come on, Mom,” Katie joked playfully. “We can do this. You know what they say—this is the first day of the rest of my life.”

  Her mother gave her a wan smile, took hold of her hand, and didn’t let go all the way home.

  Fourteen

  “I CAN’T FIGURE out how you pulled this off, Katie,” Melody exclaimed.

  “Pulled what off?” Katie asked. She’d been home for weeks, spending mornings with a tutor to catch up on her schoolwork, and afternoons with her friends whenever they dropped by after school. She and Melody were playing a halfhearted game of Scrabble one cold, rainy Friday afternoon.

  “You spend weeks and weeks in the hospital in virtual isolation, and you still manage to meet Josh Martel—one of the cutest guys at school. How did you do that?” Melody slouched in her chair across from Katie, grumbling.

  Katie smiled sweetly. “I told you, he wandered into the visitors’ lounge at the hospital, and I was desperate for human contact. So, I pinned him against a wall with my wheelchair and told him if he didn’t promise to come see me every day, I’d break both his legs.”

  Melody rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Maybe I should check in to the hospital. I haven’t had a single meaningful date this year.” She fiddled with several of the game tiles. “I remember seeing him in the halls at school. He always keeps to himself, though—kind of a loner, you know.”

  Katie knew. Josh came to her house often, but he rarely talked about himself. “I’m sure he just feels sorry for me,” Katie said. “And besides, how many girls does he know who’ve had their hearts replaced?”

  “Are you saying that he’s hanging around for the sake of bragging rights? Get real, Katie! He likes you. I can tell.”

  Katie wanted to believe Melody. She was half sorry she couldn’t tell her friend the whole truth, but she had sworn to protect Josh’s privacy about the origin of her heart. Deep down, she knew that some of Josh’s attraction to her was because of Aaron’s heart. Not that Josh was obsessed or anything, but it was obvious to her how much he’d loved his brother. And how much he missed him.

  She thought back to the first time he’d come over, bringing photographs of Aaron. The moment she glimpsed at Aaron’s face smiling up at her, Katie started crying and couldn’t stop.

  “What’s wrong? Are you all right?” Josh asked.

  She was crying so hard, she could only nod in an attempt to assure him she was fine and to eliminate the worried expression on his face. She thought that the two brothers looked very much alike, except Aaron’s hair was brown and his eyes were hazel. Katie stared for a long time at the photo of him wearing a graduation cap and gown. Finally, she blew her nose and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall apart that way.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you wanted to see my brother.”

  “You know I did. And it didn’t upset me. It just made me so sad. As long as I never put a face with my donor, it was easier to accept the idea that a real human being had died and that I’d been given a part of him. Now, seeing him, knowing that he was real and seeing what he looked like … I can’t explain it.” She shook her head, wishing she could put into words what she was feeling.

  “I understand,” Josh said. “That’s the way I felt about seeing you. It was something I had to do because it would bring Aaron back to me in a way. I couldn’t tell anyone because I thought I’d be committed to the funny farm.”

  Katie touched his arm. “So, here we are, two strangers brought together by a guy who never had anything to say about it.”

  Josh nodded. “That’s about it. I’m glad I know you, though. It helps.”

  For a long moment, neither of them said anything; they simply stared into each other’s eyes. When she felt color begin to creep up her cheeks and her pulse quicken, she broke the eye contact and began rifling through the other pictures. “Is this one of him in his football uniform?” she asked. It was a dumb question, because it was obvious that Aaron was in uniform.

  “High school,” Josh said. “Gramps and I never got around to taking one of him in his college uniform. I just figured there’d be plenty of time to do it.”

  “My dad says you’ve got to do something the minute it crosses your mind, or the opportunity will get away from you.”

  “I like your dad,” Josh said. “I like your whole family.”

  “They like you, too, Josh. Especially Daddy.” She laughed. “All these years, I’ve had to be the son he always wanted. I tease him about it a lot.”

  “I can tell he wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  She sorted through more of the photos. They all seemed to be of Aaron and Josh, none with either of their parents. She started to ask about it, but thought better of it. She didn’t want to pry and felt that if he wanted to open up to her, he would do so when he felt the time was right. “Do you mind if I hang on to these for a while?” she asked.

  Josh hesitated, and she quickly added, “I’ll take good care of them, I swear.”

  He plucked one from the pile. “All right. Just let me take this one back home with me. I can’t let them all go.”

  His sentiment touched her. There was a sadness about him that transcended the death of his brother. Katie didn’t know how, but she sensed that Josh had been deeply wounded.

  “He’s a loner, all right,” Katie heard Melody repeat. “I see him on the indoor track every morning for a workout. He doesn’t say much to anyone, just runs his laps and goes off to classes.”

  The image of early morning workouts with the track team caused Katie to feel a sharp pang of regret. She should be working with the team, as she had in the past. She felt robbed, cheated. “I’m going to run again,” she said.

  Melody drew back, her eyes wide. “Are you serious? How can you?”

  Katie felt a sudden quick rise of anger. “Good grief, I’m not handicapped,” she said, knowing she was beginning to sound like a broken record. “Heart transplant patients can live regular lives, you know. Why, they even have special Olympic-style games for us.”

  “You’re going to participate?” Melody sounded incredulous. “Your parents will let you?”

  “I plan to go, no matter what they say.” Katie lifted her chin. “And next year, I’ll be back running track for the high school.”

  “What are you telling your fr
iends?” Katie’s dad wandered into the room on the tail end of their conversation. He came over to Katie, hugged her shoulders, and planted a kiss on top of her head.

  One thing about her transplant, Katie thought wryly, her parents had become much more affectionate toward her. “I said, I’m going to take all-city in my senior year. Is that a problem for you?”

  Her father looked as if he was going to say something negative, then shrugged and gave her a big smile. “Not for me. You know how I’d like to write another column about my girl.”

  “Oh, Daddy—”

  Melody giggled. “What about me? Will you write about me, too, Mr. O’Roark?”

  “If you earn some bodacious award, you bet.” He went on to ask her several questions about the upcoming track season, and Katie could only listen. She felt left out and resented it. All she wanted was to be a part of it all again. She was tired of taking it easy. Sick and tired of playing by everybody else’s rules while life passed her by.

  That night, she took her prescribed pills and went to bed. She lay in the dark and traced the path of the scar from her neck to her stomach with the tips of her fingers. Her mother had been right, the scar was shrinking; but Katie knew it would never go away. It would always be there to remind her that she was living by the grace of a stranger’s heart and the skill of a dedicated surgeon. Plus, the pills she took three times a day were a constant reminder that she owed her daily existence to a microbe as common as dirt. Of course, she was grateful. Who wouldn’t be? It was just—Just what? she asked herself.

  Her thoughts drifted to JWC, the one person who truly understood what learning to live with health problems was all about. The kinship Katie felt with this mysterious person was uncanny. No one knew what her life was like. Josh came the closest, but even he couldn’t grasp what compromises she’d have to make in order to take advantage of the “new” life her transplant had afforded her.

  Katie thought about the money. Didn’t everyone dream of winning the lottery, or of hitting a jackpot? Yet, when it came right down to it, such a large amount of money as the Wish Foundation had given to her came with an equal amount of responsibility. It was difficult for her to dwell on spending it, especially on something that didn’t benefit humanity in some grand way.

  “I want to have some fun,” Katie whispered to herself in the dark. She was tired of confinement, sick of rules about what she could and couldn’t do. She longed for the days before her heart became diseased. In those days, she’d been able to do anything she wanted, physically. She’d been able to run like the wind … Confused, frustrated, Katie cried herself to sleep.

  Sometime later, she awoke to the sound of voices coming from down the hall. Groggily, Katie sat upright. The voices were coming from her parents’ room, and they sounded angry and loud.

  Fifteen

  THE SOUND OF their voices rose and fell, and occasionally Katie heard her name mentioned. Alarmed, she tossed off the covers and scooted out of her warm bed. Shivering, she wrapped her blue velvet robe around herself and eased down the hallway. The closer she got to her parents’ room, the louder and more distinct their voices became.

  “… can’t believe you’d encourage such lunacy, Dan!” Katie heard her mother shout.

  “Lunacy! Because she wants to resume a normal life? What’s crazy about that?” Katie heard her father shout back.

  “A normal life, yes! She should have a normal life. But tell me, what’s normal about her running in races that could possibly kill her?”

  “Where do you get your medical information, Barbara, The Farmer’s Almanac? Running won’t kill her! If anything, it can help prolong her life.”

  “Oh, give me a break!” Katie heard her mother slam a closet door, as if to punctuate her sentence. “Katie isn’t your typical athlete anymore. She was hours away from dying, Dan, or have you forgotten what it was like before her transplant? She couldn’t even shuffle across the floor without an oxygen mask.”

  “No, I haven’t forgotten.” Her father’s voice sounded harsh. “I remember every moment of that living hell. I’d sit in my office, and every time the phone rang, my stomach would tie in knots. I was afraid it would be you, telling me she’d been taken to the hospital—or worse—that she was dead.

  “Barb, don’t you see? All that’s behind her now.” Her father’s voice turned cajoling. “She has a brand-new lease on life, and she wants all the things that she had before that lousy virus attacked her heart. Katie’s smart; she won’t act foolish. She’s a natural athlete. She knows how to train and how to pace herself.”

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Katie heard her mother answer, with an unmistakable hint of tears in her voice. “You would allow her to risk her life so that you can have your ‘jock’ daughter back, wouldn’t you? It’s eating at you that Katie isn’t going to be your perfect little athletic wonder ever again.”

  “That’s a low blow, Barb. And completely untrue. Is that what you honestly think? That all I’m interested in is her athletic prowess?”

  “I think it’s a factor,” Katie’s mother replied defiantly. “I think you miss her athletic status, the common ground the two of you shared.”

  Katie’s heart hammered. She knew that she shouldn’t be eavesdropping, yet she couldn’t docilely head back down the hall, either. This argument between her parents might be setting the course of her life. She braced her hand on the wall, waiting for her father’s comeback.

  At last, she heard him say, “And what about you, Barb? How’s it helping Katie to have you smothering her to death?”

  “Smothering her! I love her. I’m scared for her. We almost lost her once. I won’t go through that again just so she can run in a few track events, so that her father can write about her in his column.”

  “For crying out loud! Give me some credit for a little sense, will you! If Katie never runs another step, if she never goes away to college, if she lives with us for the rest of her life, it will be fine with me. I would lock her in her room before I’d allow her to do anything to harm herself in any way. All I’ve been trying to tell you is that she’s determined to live as normal a life as possible. And for Katie, normal is running. As her parents, we’re going to have to make some kind of peace with her medical condition and her willpower. If we don’t, we risk alienating her completely.”

  “And if we do, she may die,” Katie’s mother countered.

  Katie had heard enough. She stole quietly back to her room and slipped under the covers without taking off her robe. She huddled in a ball, trying to get warm, because she felt a chill that had little to do with the temperature of the air. She lay awake in the dark for a long time, pondering what she had overheard. It was obvious that her mother would never be persuaded that running wasn’t going to harm her, and that while her father saw Katie’s side more favorably, he probably wouldn’t go against his wife’s wishes. Nor, Katie told herself, would it be fair of her to divide them.

  Katie shivered, feeling more depressed than ever. Suddenly, the words from her Wish letter floated into her memory. JWC had written, “… I can give you one wish, as someone did for me. My wish helped me find purpose, faith, and courage.”

  Katie knew that she already had a purpose. She also knew that she had faith in herself to accomplish her purpose. What she desperately needed was courage. She knew that the money alone wouldn’t buy it, but taking her cue from the secretive JWC, Katie vowed to search for it—no matter what it cost her.

  “I didn’t believe it when Melody told me you were coming here all by yourself every morning,” Josh said, falling in alongside Katie as she jogged around the indoor track.

  “Don’t set your workout pace by me,” Katie told him breathlessly, hardly glancing over at him. “I’ll only slow you down and throw you off your training schedule.”

  Josh’s arm darted out and stopped her progress around the track.

  “What are you doing?” Katie asked. “Let me go.”

  “Not till you tel
l me what’s going on.”

  Angry, she whirled to face him. “What does it look like? I’m training—getting back in shape to run competitively.”

  “Does your doctor know? Your parents?”

  “Who are you? My keeper?”

  “I have a vested interest in your welfare, Katie,” Josh insisted.

  “Why? Because I’m toting around your brother’s heart? It’s my heart now.”

  He looked as if she’d slapped him, making her regret her cutting retort. “Look, Josh, I’m not mad at you. It’s just that everybody keeps telling me what to do … what’s best for me. I want to decide what’s best for me. I’m not stupid, and I know how to take care of myself. I would never take unnecessary chances.”

  Josh stared down at her, fighting against hundreds of emotions bombarding him. “How long have you been working out?”

  “About a week.”

  “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”

  Katie scraped the toe of her running shoe against the surface of the track. “I come at six-thirty, before Coach and any of the team members show up for their workouts.”

  He looked amazed. “How do you manage to sneak past your parents? I know how they guard you.”

  “It’s easy—Mom’s taken a job as a full-time substitute for some teacher on maternity leave at an elementary school in the next county. She has to leave the house by six-fifteen to be on time. And Dad’s been leaving around six every morning, trying to work extra hours.”

  Katie didn’t tell Josh that her parents were hardly speaking to one another and that each seemed glad not to have to talk over the breakfast table as they had all their married life. Katie felt that their estrangement was her fault. And that was another reason why she wanted to attend the Transplant Games. A vacation for the three of them in Los Angeles might make them feel like a family again.