The Hard Truth About Sunshine

by Sawyer Bennett

  "I just wish we could have recognized some sign," Connor says. "Something that would have alerted us... gave us the chance to do something."

  I want to tell him there was no sign--that her decision to do this was imminent.

  No obvious signs anyway.

  It's in this moment I have a new appreciation for Keith when I sneered at him for having "survivor's guilt." I know Connor's feeling it, and I've got a prickle of it making me uneasy.

  I do think she was opening up, and that she was carefully watching the group come together as a unit. She had some fun times this week, and I think some of her wounds were cut open again. But mostly, I think she developed as close of a bond as someone like her could with Connor. Whether it was his youthful enthusiasm to want to do something as silly as egging houses, or the intimate moment she shared with him, Barb had let him in and she cared for him.

  Last night... when Connor invited us to his house to watch movies... I think that's when she made her decision. I think Barb knew she would never survive Connor dying. That she didn't want to be around and watch him wither away. She didn't want to have her soul shredded from watching him suffer. I think last night, she chose to go out of this world on a high note, or as high of a note as someone like Barb can achieve in her dark world.

  In my mind, she wanted her last memories to be of Connor watching the sunset over the Pacific, knowing he achieved his ultimate goal on this trip and that she was a part of that.

  There is no way in hell, however, that I will ever tell Connor that. He'd take it personally, and it would overwhelm him with guilt. I'd much prefer him to think that Barb was being selfish so he doesn't have any more burdens on his plate.

  "I'm sure we'll talk about this when we get back with Mags," I suggest. She's a professional. She'll be able to help him make more sense of it.

  "But we don't have any more sessions with her," Connor points out. "She said she'd let us all out of them if we went on this trip."

  "No," I correct with a smile. "She said she'd let me out if I went on this trip. But I think it would be good for us to get together with her when we get back. This is hard to process."

  And I cannot even believe I'm actually volunteering for therapy. Man, the changes in my life in the last eight days are making my head spin.

  Connor nods in understanding, dropping his gaze briefly before raising it again. "I'm sorry I'm not driving back with you two."

  I glance over at Jillian, seeing the tears well up in her eyes again. I think she's worried this is the beginning of the end for Connor. That maybe his soul has taken such a blow by what happened today that his body is going to feel the effects of it. When he talked to his dad earlier, he was so upset that all he wanted to do was go home and be with them. All three of them are flying to Raleigh tomorrow.

  "Hey," I say as I turn back to him. "We had a blast. This trip was momentous. Who cares if we're cutting it short?"

  Jillian nods in agreement, sucks in a breath, and adds in a cheery voice, "Yeah. You accomplished a lot on this trip, and we have so many more things we'll do together when we get back."

  Jillian and I haven't even discussed it yet, but I assume we'll be heading straight back across the country. I know I'm personally not up for continuing with the trip. Without Barb and Connor, it's just not right, and I bet Jillian feels the same way.

  "You promise?" Connor asks hesitantly, his eyes flicking back and forth between Jillian and me.

  "Promise what?" she asks.

  "That we'll do stuff together when you two get back?" His voice is small and afraid. I think he knows this is the beginning of the end too, and that he might suspect Barb took the easy way out to avoid watching him die. He probably thinks we won't tough it out with him either.

  I grin at him to lighten the mood. "Fuck yes. First on the agenda is movie night at your house for The Lion King. Tell your dad to have lots of beer for us, okay?"

  Connor's mouth curves into a smile as his gaze drops almost shyly before coming back up again. He turns to Jillian, but he's addressing both of us with a clear warning. "It's not going to be pleasant. Watching me die."

  "And yet we'll watch you and be with you all the same," she promises him.

  Swallowing a hard lump in my throat, I nod my agreement. In my mind, there is no other choice for me. I have to see it through with him.

  Just eight days ago, Connor was nothing but "Dead Kid" to me. But I know the end is coming soon, it's going to be bad, and I allow myself a brief moment to envy Barb for the out she took.

  Chapter 33

  Two days later...

  When the automatic pump clicks off, I pull the nozzle out of the gas tank and return it to its holder. Fishing my wallet out of the back of my shorts, I open the driver's door to the Suburban and ask Jillian, "You want anything from inside?"

  She's got her thick glasses on and her head bent over her art book, but she doesn't even bother looking at me. Just a slight shake of her head and a soft, "No thanks."

  With a sigh, I shut the door and head in to grab me a coffee. I'm tired as fuck, but Jillian and I are anxious to get home. We know Connor's there and we don't want him to feel abandoned, so we're racing to get there. The first day we left Portland, I drove almost eleven hours to Salt Lake City. Jillian and I had collapsed into bed, utterly exhausted from the weight of our emotions.

  The next day, I went even further, spending fifteen hours on the road and making it to the eastern side of Kansas City. We were still over fifteen hours from home, but one more day of hard driving isn't going to kill me.

  Besides, I want to get Jillian back in her environment. She's been so fucking quiet since Barb died that it's wigging me out. I've tried to engage her, and she'll talk in short sentences. She's sleeping a lot in the car and not eating very much.

  Last night, I tried to snap her out of it when we got into the hotel room. I realized tiptoeing around her wasn't going to work, so I told her point blank, "I need you to talk to me and tell me what's wrong."

  It pissed her off. With flashing eyes and red cheeks, she said, "Well, I'm fucking sorry I'm being so quiet, Christopher. A friend of mine just committed suicide."

  That pissed me off, and I--admittedly wrongly--told her, "Barb was no friend of yours. You two barely tolerated each other."

  That was the wrong thing to fucking say for sure. Jillian's blue eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip quivered. "You're an asshole," she said quietly.

  God, I was a total asshole. But I rectified it immediately by pulling her into my arms and laying down on the bed with her. I told her how sorry I was and whispered words of comfort, assuring her Barb was indeed our friend and that I was as confused and lost as she was. These words were all the truth, and she accepted them.

  And then she admitted something to me that set me on my heels. "Seeing Barb there... dead and knowing she felt so alone that it was her only option... that was the darkest day of my life, Christopher. Even worse than when Kelly died, and way worse than when I got my diagnosis."

  "How's that?" I asked in a raspy voice as my hands rubbed up and down her spine to soothe her. That was a pretty strong statement to make.

  "Kelly dying was awful. She was my sister. My other half. But she was happy and had a fulfilled life. I think her calling was greater than what she served here on earth, and I know she's in a happier place. But Barb... she was so lonely, so afraid, and I was just starting to see her open up to us. I let my own goddamn optimism convince me that she'd be okay. That she would look at the bright side the way I always stupidly tell everyone to do. I spouted crazy shit to you about the hard truth about sunshine... that it's always there, you just have to see it in other ways, and I realize now that I couldn't have been more naive. I've learned that I really don't know anything at all about life, and I feel like such an idiot."

  "You are not an idiot," I scolded her. Pulling back my face, I made sure she could look me in the eye. "It's your hopefulness... your belief that a good life is what we're hand
ed but a great life is what we make of it... that made me open myself up to the possibility that I deserved more."

  She shook her head, so mired in her own pity that she refused to accept acknowledgment of the gift she'd given me. "No... you had that within you already."

  "Exactly," I tell her. "But I couldn't pull it out without you. Barb didn't have it in her. There are some people who can't be helped, baby."

  Jillian didn't respond to me, but she did snuggle in closer. I continued to hold her and stroke her back until she fell asleep. I had hoped that maybe my words would penetrate, but she's as closed off as ever this morning. Now I'm getting worried. I'm not sure I can handle it if the woman who made me believe loses belief in herself.

  Inside the gas station, I quickly grab a large cup of coffee and take it to the counter. I consider buying a pack of smokes, but I resist. I never did go out and get another pack after our talk with Connor in Portland, but I sure as hell wanted one. To say the last few days have been stressful is an understatement.

  As the cashier rings me up and I hand over a five-dollar bill, I notice some colored tri-fold brochures. I pick one up out of the holder and examine it.

  "Those tours are a lot of fun," the cashier says. "And the history is cool too... you know, if you're into that sort of thing."

  I look up to him. "Oh yeah? Is it far away?"

  "Nah... about half an hour northeast of here," he says, unknowingly giving me my chance.

  I shove the brochure in my back pocket. "Maybe we'll give it a try. Thanks."

  "I don't understand why we're stopping here," Jillian practically whines.

  "Because I've always wanted to do a cave tour," I lie. "It was too close to pass up."

  Truth is, touring caves would probably be the last thing on my agenda. I'm slightly claustrophobic, and I sure as fuck don't like bats. But we need a break. A change of scenery. The long miles on the road coupled with grieving have left us in a very weird place. There's hardly any conversation, and I can't tell if we're running toward something or away from something, but whichever direction we're going, I'm feeling alone in my travels right now. We need to reconnect.

  So we're going to take a little break on this hellacious drive home, and we're going to do something different. It might not be on either of our bucket lists, but we can have bragging rights after that we toured the historically significant Mark Twain Caves.

  Jillian is either sulking or just doesn't have it in her to talk to me because she's completely quiet the entire time I sign us up for a tour. We congregate to watch an informational video first, then our tour guide brings us into the cave.

  Interestingly enough, I actually kind of dig the tour. The passages are wider than I'd imagined and the place is well lit, so I don't even have a moment where I felt claustrophobic. I'll admit, I'm a little wigged out to learn that a mad doctor in the 1840s used the cave as a mausoleum for his deceased daughter, but past that, it was interesting to learn how Mark Twain wrote about the cave in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, one of the few books I liked reading when I was in school.

  Jillian listens to the guide intently and because the cave is dank and chilly, she presses up against me often. Our hands remain clasped the entire time. This I like very much, and I'm glad I decided to take this detour. We needed a bit of a stress reliever.

  As the tour winds down, the guide--a young female, probably a college student working for the summer--stops and says, "Now, before I open this up for questions and answers, we have something a little fun we like to do."

  With dramatic flourish, she points out that the cave has been outfitted with electricity to make walking through safe, but she asks us to imagine the days when Mark Twain would run through here as a little boy with only a fire torch to light the way.

  "And imagine... being deep in the caves and your light goes out," she says ominously. And, with perfect timing, the overhead lights go out and we are plunged into absolute and complete darkness.

  Several people gasp as it's disorienting, but Jillian actually lets out a pained cry that sounds like it ripped her chest open. As the tour guide drones on about finding the way out of a cave in the dark, Jillian's hand squeezes mine so hard I'm positive she's breaking bones. Her voice is nothing but pure panic when she whispers, "Christopher... I can't... I need out of here. Where's your lighter? I need light."

  I can hear the tears in her voice, the hysteria vibrating off her. Jesus fucking Christ, Jillian is experiencing total blindness and for someone who will one day be blind, I bet it's completely freaking her the fuck out.

  I slap at my pocket and realize I don't have my lighter because I'm not smoking anymore. Instead, I reach out and blindly wrap my arms around her, somehow managing to put my lips near her ears. I keep my voice low and reassuring, "Jillian... you're fine. This is just temporary. I'm right here, and I'm not going to let you go. Just close your eyes, take a deep breath in, and--"

  The lights pop back on. I know we couldn't have been in the darkness any more than ten seconds, but it was about nine seconds longer than what Jillian could tolerate. My eyes squint against the sudden light, but they immediately adjust since we weren't in the dark that long. I can't stand the look of terror in Jillian's eyes when I look at her.

  Taking her by the hand, I push my way through the group of tourists and walk out a door on the left side of the cave that's marked with a lit exit sign. We practically burst out into the Missouri summer sunshine, and I immediately turn to Jillian and place my hands on her shoulders.

  "Are you okay?" I ask her with worry.

  She nods but has to take a couple of deep breaths. "I'm sorry. That was just... really intense and scary as hell. I wasn't prepared for it."

  I can imagine. Jillian and I had talked a lot about her medical condition that day on Cannon Beach so I could understand it. I was heartened to learn her blindness wouldn't be a complete blackout type of inability to see, but more of a blurred distortion that will make it impossible for her to see much other than large shapes or moving shadows. She would be legally blind one day, but it won't be blackness. And though she may not be able to see the actual shape and color of the sun, some of its miraculous light will be able to get through.

  But still, there's no doubt that having her sight ripped away when she wasn't prepared for it, knowing it's her permanent destiny one day, shook her up and with good reason. I'm surprised Jillian's still standing on her feet.

  "I'm sorry," I say as an afterthought. "I didn't even think they would do something like that."

  "No, it's okay," she says, still a little breathless. Something that sounds like it may be a laugh comes from her, but then her face crumples and tears fill her eyes.

  "Hey, hey... what's wrong, baby?" I say in a soothing tone as I bring my hands to her face. Other people are now walking out of the cave past us, but I pay them no mind.

  "I'm an absolute mess," she says with a quavering voice. "I talk such a good game of being brave and optimistic that I almost believed my own hype."

  "Jillian," I start to say consolingly, but she shakes her head.

  "A few seconds of darkness and I freaked out," she says quietly, dropping her gaze from mine. "And do you know what was running through my mind?"

  I shake my head, but she doesn't see me because she's looking at the ground, so I clear my throat and say, "What was running through your mind?"

  "That I couldn't do this," she says with utter desolation. "That I cannot handle being blind. I don't want to lose my sight. It's not fair."

  I use my palms to tilt her face back up, leaning down so we're staring eye to eye. "That's bullshit, Jillian. You can handle anything."

  "No, I don't--"

  "I said it's bullshit." This comes out forcefully and with firm resolve. She blinks at me in surprise. "Listen... it's okay if you want to sunshine your way through life and look on the bright side of things. And it's also okay if you get scared and think the world is falling in on you. You can have both. You can have moments of
great confidence in yourself, and then moments where you're so low you don't think you can make it another day. But the one thing you can never do is give up the belief that it will all be okay. And you'll know it will all be okay because regardless if you're up or down, I'll be with you through it all."

  Jillian's mouth falls open, her eyes filling with surprise. "You will?"

  I don't answer her directly. Instead, I follow my heart because it is now completely wide open with all the amazing possibilities that could be my life if I have the courage to face it. "One day in the future, a long time from now when we're old and gray, someone will look at me and they'll note the way I look at you. You may not be able to see me, but they will. And they'll see that look on my face, and they'll be compelled to ask me, 'Christopher, do you remember the day you started to fall in love with Jillian?'."

  "And what will you say?" Jillian asks on a whisper.

  Leaning down, her face still held in my hand and a half, I brush my lips against hers. "I'll tell them the truth. That the process started for me on the very first day I met you. I'll never forget the radiance that you emanated from your sunshiny blonde hair, to your sweet, tender voice, to the way in which you clearly had room in your heart for everyone in that room."

  "Even assholes like you?" she asks with a smile.

  "Even assholes like me," I tell her and then I continue. "And I'll tell them that I kept falling in love with you during an amazing seven-day trip across the country where not even death could mar the perfectness of our time together."

  "Wow," Jillian says in breathless wonder. "I did not know you had such poetic words in you."

  "Neither did I," I tell her truthfully with a grin. "But I mean them. You've taught me so much in such a little bit of time, and I am so fucking lucky that you can see past the broken parts of me. You made me see that hope is a wonderful thing, and I want to work hard to turn those dreams into reality. Jillian, you were my bucket list and I didn't even know it."