Becca

by Krystek, Dean

“Why, yes, it does.”

  “So you’re telling me that I have bone cancer.”

  “Without a biopsy we won’t know for sure. But looking at the film here, you can see how irregular the mass looks. A benign tumor normally has smooth borders on the image.”

  “Normally,” Becca said.

  “Yes. It could be benign. It’s my experience with a picture like this that it is not. I’m sorry.”

  “Dammit,” Becca swore under her breath.

  “I would like to do the biopsy as soon as possible, Rebecca.”

  “When?” Mary asked.

  “Tomorrow afternoon. I would like her to be admitted tomorrow.”

  “Why do I have to be admitted?” Becca asked.

  “As a precaution.”

  “Against?”

  The doctor patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, young lady, it’s routine.”

  “Will you cut my leg off?”

  “It’s too early to talk about treatment. Let’s wait and see what we have.”

  “You don’t have anything,” Becca said. “It’s not we. I’m the one with the cancer.”

  “Becky,” Bill said through pursed lips.

  “That’s okay,” Dr. London said. “Rebecca, even if it is cancer. We don’t necessarily have to take your leg off. My goodness, we may not even have to operate. There are other treatments available, depending on our prognosis.”

  “Like what other treatments?”

  “Radiation. Chemo therapy.”

  “Oh, they sound better. I don’t want to lose my leg.”

  “Listen. Go home tonight, Rebecca. I don’t want you to get too upset right now. We don’t know how serious it is yet—or even if it’s serious at all.”

  “It’s cancer—that’s serious.”

  “I meant that it might be something that we can treat successfully without causing you much distress.”

  Becca smirked. “I’m already distressed, doctor. You have a lump growing in your leg that’s eating away at your bone and you try not to be distressed.”

  VI

  “Are you okay, honey?” Mary asked after they had been in the car for a full ten minutes, riding in silence.

  “No, Mom, I’m not. I can’t believe this.”

  Mary turned in her seat to face Becca. She reached and took her daughter’s hand and held it tightly but gently. “Please, honey, try not to get dejected.”

  “How would you feel if you had cancer?”

  “We don’t know for sure if it is cancer.”

  Becca rubbed the lump on her leg. She thought of Bert rubbing it; thought of his concern. She sighed heavily and fought tears. “Just when things were coming together,” she mumbled.

  “What’s that, honey?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh, I asked Greg to come over this evening. I thought you might want to see him.”

  “Well I don’t.”

  “Why not? I’m sure you could use his companionship right about now.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Becca looked out the window.

  “Honey,” her mother patted her hand, “don’t push people away from you, now especially.”

  “I don’t need to see him.”

  “Why don’t you want to see him?”

  “I said I didn’t need to see him.”

  “He’s your boyfriend, he’s concerned about you.”

  She smirked. “Yeah, some boyfriend.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Bill asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’ve been acting strange lately. And you and Greg don’t seem to be together as much.”

  “We’re busy.”

  “No, you’re busy. I don’t think he is.”

  Becca said nothing.

  “Is there someone else?”

  Becca said nothing.

  “What does that mean, your silence?”

  “Bill, let’s not talk about this now,” Mary said.

  “I knew there was something going on. You’ve got another boyfriend is that it?”

  “Yes, that’s it. I’m madly in love with someone else.”

  “Don’t be sarcastic,” Bill said.

  “You asked, I answered.”

  “She’s just upset, Bill,” Mary said, “please, let’s not talk about this.”

  “Greg doesn’t meet your high standards?”

  “He doesn’t meet my needs,” she said.

  “Your needs? Which ones are those? Wait let me guess. This other person does? Is that it?”

  “Bill, please.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Becky. Greg is your boyfriend. He’s coming over tonight and you’re going to talk to him.”

  At home, Becca went up to her room. She pulled out the paper with Bert’s number and dialed it. Carol told her that Bert was working.

  “I’ll stop by and see him at the station.”

  “What’s wrong?” Carol asked.

  “Nothing…really.”

  “Okay, honey. I hope to see you soon.”

  A knock on her door made Becca hang up the phone quickly.

  “Becky,” Mary’s voice floated through the door, “may I come in?”

  Becca grabbed her purse and answered the door.

  “Where are you going?” her mother asked.

  “Out.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Just out, Mom.”

  “You…you really need to take it easy.”

  “Do I? I don’t remember Doctor London telling me to take it easy. I’m not an invalid. At least not now.”

  “Your father isn’t going to like this.”

  “I don’t care, really I don’t.”

  “Greg’s coming over for dinner.”

  “I’ll be back for dinner.”

  She went downstairs. Bill was on the phone when she headed for the door.

  “Who were you talking to just now?” he asked.

  “I was talking to a friend’s mom.”

  “Carol? Which friend’s mother is that?” She walked past him and he followed her to the door. “I want to know what’s going on. You’re meeting someone.”

  “So what if I am?”

  “Goddammit don’t you defy me,” Bill pointed his finger at her, stabbing the air.

  Becca said nothing and hurried to her car. Pulling away from the curb, she wiped away the tears that had formed.

  VII

  Bert watched Becca pull into the station and park next to the building.

  Becca walked in the door and engulfed him in her arms, nearly knocking him over. She buried her face against his chest. “It’s cancer, Josh. Goddammit it’s cancer.”

  “What?” He thought he had misunderstood her.

  “Cancer,” she said through a sigh.

  Bert put his arms around her and she snuggled against him. They swayed slightly, as if dancing. “I’m sorry, Becca.” It was all he could manage.

  “Bone cancer,” Becca said. “How did I get bone cancer? How the hell did I get it?”

  He felt her hold on him tighten; he felt her hot breath through his shirt. Her perfume mingled with the aroma of gasoline. He continued to hold her. He could not betray his fear, though he saw hers. “Something you ate?”

  Her muffled laugh raised his spirits, and he felt her hold relax slightly. “That’s a good one, Josh.”

  A car horn sounded and Bert said, “I have to take care of the customer.”

  Becca slid away from him. “Sure.”

  He went out, serviced the car, and was back inside in a couple of minutes.

  Becca lifted her short skirt to show him the bruise. “This…this thing might be cancer.” She stared at it, as if it was something that had attached itself to her and she had no way of knowing how it had gotten there. “Cancer for God’s sake.”

  “So they’re not sure?”

  “The biopsy will tell. I’m going into the hospital tomorrow morning and the doc’s going to slice me open tomorrow afternoon
. I’ll be out on Thursday.” She smirked. “I might not have a leg but I’ll be out on Thursday.”

  “How are you going to be out on Friday if he takes your leg?”

  “Oh, God, Josh, do you really think if I had my leg cut off on Thursday that I’d be out on Friday? Are you stupid? Oh, gee, sorry. I’m just upset. Not that I have any reason to be. I don’t know if I’m going to lose my leg. The doctor said I don’t have to—depending on how bad it is. But I do know I’m going to have to go through radiation or chemicals or something if he doesn’t take it.”

  “That’s not so bad is it?”

  “I’ll lose my hair.”

  “It’ll grow back.”

  “I’ll throw up all the time.”

  “You can carry a bucket with you.”

  “I’ll be skin and bones.”

  “You’re too fat right now.”

  “You’ve got an answer for everything.”

  “Yes.”

  She leaned forward, touching his face with her hands. She smiled, though her eyes lacked their usual luster. “I can’t believe I waste my time with you, you smart aleck.”

  “I’ve got better things to do myself. But every time I want to do them, you show up and screw up my plans.”

  Her smile lingered and for a moment the luster was back in her eyes as she stared at him, but then her smiled faded and she said, “I’m scared.”

  “I would be scared too, Becca.”

  She turned her head at the sound of a horn. “You have a customer.”

  “Yes,” Bert said and patted her leg. Then his fingertips gently stroked the bruise. “I wish,” he said, looking at her leg as if speaking to it, “right now, touching it I could make it go away.”

  For the first time, Becca saw in Bert’s eyes the look of worry and something else—sadness. She reached out and let her fingertips brush his cheek. “Me too, Josh.”

  “Maybe I should try kissing it.”

  “That won’t help me, either.”

  “No, but it would do me a world of good.”

  She giggled.

  “Don’t go anywhere.” He smiled and went out.

  “I love you, Bertram Martin.”

  Bert stopped, turned, and stuck his head in the door. “What did you say?”

  She shook her head and shrugged. “Nothing.”

  He went to the car, and was back in five minutes.

  Becca had her skirt hiked up and she was looking at her leg. “It’s a shame to lose it.”

  “Stop talking like that.”

  “It’s a nice leg, isn’t it?”

  “It’s a leg. I’ve told you before, a leg is a leg.”

  “I want to talk to you when I’m in the hospital, okay? I’ll call you and give you my room number.”

  “Sure.”

  He leaned against the wall opposite her, looking down, and Becca thought he was staring at her legs, and she was going to make a comment about that when he raised his eyes to hers and she saw a look she did not like.

  “What’s wrong, Josh?”

  He sighed heavily as if taking a break from carrying a heavy burden. “I’ve got to tell you something.”

  “I’m not going to like what you’re going to say, am I.”

  “I’ve been drafted.”

  “Really? By which team?” Bert did not crack a smile. “Oh, dear. You got drafted.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, like you had a choice in the matter.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop saying that.” She covered her leg again. “So…when?”

  “Three weeks. But Sergeant James wants me to enlist so I can choose my job and maybe avoid Vietnam.”

  “Maybe avoid it? You’re not sure? Are you guaranteed to go to Vietnam if you’re drafted?”

  “Sergeant James seems to think I am.”

  “What’s he know? He’s a recruiter. It’s his job to scare you into enlisting.”

  “Either way, I’m going into the Army.”

  “For how long?”

  “Two years if I’m drafted.”

  She looked down. “Wow, I don’t know who had the worst news.” She shook her head. “What a fucked up day—oh, sorry. But it’s really been a bad day. First, my cancer and now you telling me you’re going into the Army. What next?” She heaved a great sigh. “It’s too bad you’re working right now. I’d say let’s go for coffee.”

  “I wish I could leave, too.”

  “I’m on my way somewhere right now, but can I come back this evening?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll come by and pick you up after work?”

  “I’ll be in the restaurant next door.”

  “Okay.”She grabbed her leg. Bert held her hand to steady her. “Goddammit,” she said.

  He opened her door for her and helped her into the car.

  She rested her hand on the back of his for a moment. “I’m glad I know you.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  VIII

  “How did you get it?” Greg asked, staring at Becca’s leg as they sat on the porch.

  “Probably something I ate,” she said with a sad, whimsical smile.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. It just appeared. And stop looking at it like it’s contagious or something.”

  “Sorry.”

  They sat silently for a couple of minutes.

  “Becca,” Greg said, “you’re crying?”

  She shook her head and dabbed at her eyes.

  Greg hugged her. She melted into his arms as she always did. “You’re going to be all right. The doctors will get rid of the cancer.”

  She shrugged. She used his shirt to wipe her eyes.

  He kissed the top of her head. He loved the smell and feel of her hair.

  “I’m worried,” she said.

  “I know you are.”

  “And you’re leaving in January and Josh…he’ll be leaving before then.’

  “Where’s he going?”

  “He’s been drafted,” Becca said after a pause.

  “When does he leave?”

  “Three weeks. I’m going to miss you, Greg. And Josh…he’s…the one, Greg.”

  “The one.” Greg nodded. “I understand.” Greg took her hand in his and kissed it. “I am sorry it’s not me. He’s lucky.”

  “Yeah…damn right he is,” she forced a laugh.

  “He’s got to be pretty pissed about all of this.”

  “He doesn’t know.”

  “He doesn’t know about the cancer?”

  “No. He doesn’t know he’s…the one.”

  “Maybe you should tell him.”

  “That might make things worse. He’s going to have enough to worry about…and…I keep thinking of Alex, and… My God, I don’t want Josh over there with his head over here.”

  “Maybe he won’t go to war.”

  “I suppose that’s possible…but…never mind. I can’t deal with this now.”

  Bill came out onto the porch and sat down on one of the chairs. His tobacco wafted over them. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said.

  “Oh, that’s okay, Mr. Smith.”

  “Greg, see how upset my daughter is about you going out west? She needs you to help her through this.”

  Greg nodded. “I know. I’m really sorry.”

  “I don’t know why you want to go to UCLA, but your father seems pleased with it.”

  “He wasn’t at first, but he’s come around.”

  “Greg,” Becca said, “let’s go for a ride.”

  “Sure.”

  “Don’t be too late,” Bill said.

  Becca said. “Don’t wait up.”

  “I don’t appreciate your attitude.”

  “I’m carrying this deadly thing around on my leg and who knows what’s going to happen to me because of it, so I think maybe if I want to have an attitude, I’ll have a damn attitude. Let’s go, Greg.”

  Greg drove. “You really got your dad angry, Becca.”r />
  “I always make him mad.”

  “Since Alex he’s been really rough on you.”

  “He feels guilty about what happened to Alex.”

  “Why should he feel guilty about that?”

  “He could have prevented it. Had he said yes Alex might still be here.”

  “What’s going to happen to you, Becca when I’m not here—when Josh isn’t here?”

  She shrugged. “I can’t think of that right now. However, I think I’ll be kept pretty busy with this thing growing inside of me. And I’m sure my father will try to find someone for me. Someone safe. Like you.

  “He liked you, he knew your mom and dad, and he figured that if you did anything to me he didn’t like he knew where to get his hands on you.”

  “What would I do to you that he wouldn’t like?”

  “Impregnate me. He trusted you, and thought that you wouldn’t dare do that.”

  “I wonder why he figured I wouldn’t. Do you think he knows?”

  “I doubt it. He hates homosexuals.”

  “My father doesn’t much care for them either. That’s why I’ve got to get away.”

  Becca said, “Let’s go to your place, Greg.”

  “Sure. Mom and Dad wanted to see you anyway.”

  “I’m staying there only until about ten-thirty and then you’re going to bring me home.”

  Greg’s parents met her with the reserved enthusiasm that manifested itself in exaggerated words of concern and embraces lacking sincerity. Although they expressed their concern for her condition, but Becca knew they were pleased that she would not be part of their son’s life after the first of the year.

  IX

  “Bertram, it’s mom.”

  She sounded upset. “Hi, what’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Did Becca see you?”

  “Yes.”

  “She was upset when she called earlier. What’s wrong?”

  He wanted to tell his mother about Becca’s cancer, but she seemed upset already. “I’ll tell you when I get home, okay?”

  “A few minutes ago a man who said he was Becca’s father’s called this number.”

  “Oh…really?”

  “He asked for somebody named Josh, and when I told him nobody by that name lived here he got upset. He said his daughter had been calling Josh at this number.”

  “Becca calls me Josh sometimes.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a joke, Mom.”

  “Joke or not, he’s upset. I told him your name was Bertram and he just hung up. What’s going on?”

  “He doesn’t like niggers.”