It Happened to Nancy

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It Happened to Nancy Page 17

by Beatrice Sparks


  You know, I’ve been thinking about it, and I suspect that all the time he was comforting me when I was sick, I was comforting him too, because he was sick and just couldn’t tell us. Do you think that’s possible?

  3:30 P.M.

  Aunt Thelma made me rest while she and Melvin built Red Alert a nice coffin. She lined it with one of her beautiful handmade baby quilts and covered him with a lovely white lace curtain. Melvin cleaned and brushed his fur.

  It was an awesome funeral. We sang “Where Love Is,” changing the words to “Where God is, there Red Alert is also. Where God is, I want to be,” etc. Then Melvin played his guitar and sang a couple of good-bye songs. Only Aunt Thelma and Melvin and God and Cougar and I were there, and it was very sacred!

  Melvin had dug a big place for Red Alert’s coffin just down always from Uncle Rod’s grave. He’d lined it with soft grasses and flower petals. Red Alert was just like he was asleep when Melvin put the cover on and more wildflowers over it. Aunt Thelma read about how much Jesus loved animals as well as people.

  I know Red Alert is in Heaven! It just wouldn’t be Heaven without him there!

  Aunt Thelma said he would have been over one hundred years old in dog years. Can you imagine that? And he still did all the dog chores on the ranch, every one of them. In fact, no one can take his place, ever. Melvin said that. Aunt Thelma told God that he always did his chores “with the proper attitude and a happy heart.” I wish I could be like that. Isn’t it funny, me saying I’d like to be like a dog?

  I hope we won’t ever have to get another dog, but then, I guess we have to. We can’t have a ranch without a dog.

  ?__________

  I don’t know what time it is, but Aunt Thelma just sneaked into my room and woke me up. She had called a friend whose dog had puppies by Red Alert many years ago. That lady had given one of his pups to her daughter, who had given one of his pups to her granddaughter, and it had just had puppies a few months back. They still had a little male that Aunt Thelma could have.

  I sat up in bed so fast that lights flashed off and on in my head when Aunt Thelma told me that we are going to get one of Red Alert’s great-grandsons. I asked Aunt Thelma if we could name him RA4. She thought that would be nice. Now I’m going to sleep dreaming about RA4 and his great-grandpa up in

  Heaven. I wonder if Red Alert knows about RA4. I hope he does!

  ?__________

  I woke up dreaming that I was down in the box with Red Alert. It was black and heavy and suffocating. I don’t understand death. I don’t want to die! Aunt Thelma says the body stays here and the spirit goes back up to Heaven. That I’d like. In fact, some days when I feel so miserable, I’m almost looking forward to being gone from my body…but then I’m not, too. I’ve been thinking about Mom and Dad. I try not to because it makes me too lonesome and hungry for them. They come up here as often as they can, but they’re very busy, and it costs a lot of money, and it’s soooooooooo hard on me when they go.

  When I woke up I was mumbling, “Mama, Mama, Mama,” in my sleep. “Come get me, Mama.” But there is no way she could take care of me. Not now, with her working and all. I guess life is as it should be.

  Tuesday, March 24

  Melvin brought home the new dog. I thought he’d be a real puppy, but he’s almost as big as Red Alert, and he’s as cautious about us as we are about him.

  Melvin has a muzzle on him because he is part wolf, and he’s been taught to be aggressive. He growled, and his eyes got red, like Red Alert’s when I came close. It really hurt my feelings, because I thought he’d taken Red Alert’s place, but then, I guess one person never can take another person’s place completely. Right? Right!

  Oh well, I still have old Cougar. Melvin says he’ll have to teach them to be friends, at least civil to each other.

  Wednesday, March 25

  7:22 A.M.

  I spend a lot of time just sitting on the steps in the sun these days. I do a little schoolwork, but Aunt Thelma says I don’t have to push till I feel better. Melvin brings in lots of magazines and letters and the week-old newspapers when he goes to town. The newspapers are funny because we’ve seen almost everything they say on the news already. I feel like I’m a psychic that I can tell them what’s going to happen. The gaggle and Adam all write regularly, but they seem almost like people in the news or magazines or something now, not quite real.

  I try not to think about them. It hurts too much. My dear, loving Mom and Dad come often, but I can’t allow myself to think about them either; that just shrivels and shreds and pulverizes me. It makes me feel like an ugly, hopeless, mortally suffering displaced person who doesn’t belong anywhere. I must detach myself! I must live only for the here—the now! It’s the only way I can handle my life at this point.

  3 P.M.

  WOW! WOWIE! WOWERS! Wonders never cease! Mom and Dad came in on the puddle jumper about 9:30 and then Melvin drove in with El about noon. WHAT A WONDERFUL, HAPPY, MAGNIFICENT, MORE-THAN-PERFECT DAY! I’m so filled with love and joy and gratitude that I feel like all 72 pounds of me is going to explode with such magnitude that I’ll cover the entire earth with happy little sunshine pieces. Mom made me come up to my room to rest, but I can’t. I want to jump up and down and squeal and giggle. Mom and Dad almost never let go of each other’s hands. I hope with all my heart that means what I hope it means. And El, dear, precious, forever friend El, she got her parents to give her a trip here instead of a birthday party and presents and stuff. Isn’t that beyond fantastic?

  4:29 P.M.

  I just woke up from a little nap. In a way I hate to leave my cozy, warm, loved-filled room. El brought me big poster-size, blowup pictures of each of the gaggle, and they are covering my walls.

  5:33 P.M.

  While my loved ones and I were outside on chaise lounges by the duck pond, El and Melvin put a grinning life-size poster of Lew on the ceiling. I love it! But even more I love the small, serious picture of him that El put on my nightstand. He had carefully written across the bottom of it, “Nancy, I shall love you through all time and infinity, and I’m coming up as soon as school is out.”

  My heart is leaping within me. Life is good.

  Sunday, March 29

  I’m soooo lonely. Mom and Dad and El all had to leave at noon to catch their planes. I hurt so much I can hardly breathe. I can’t understand how inside your heart pains can hurt even more than outside pains. I guess I’ve just got to detach myself from my out-there life! Please, God, help me! Honestly, I can’t stand this!

  3:10 P.M.

  Guess what? God heard my prayer and answered it through RA4. A while ago I went down to the lounge Melvin had put out for me by the pond, and when I woke up from a little nap, RA4 was lying by my side. I was so excited I felt my pounding heart would wake him up, but it didn’t.

  When I moved, he woke up and smiled at me, and when I touched him, he kissed my hand. I guess he senses how much I need him now! He’s the real master of the ranch and keeps everything in line except Cougar. When he starts coming Cougar’s way, even accidentally, Cougar just stands his ground and puts up his fur and hisses, with one unsheathed claw in the air. I’d be respectful too. His claw looks about a foot long. Oh, thank you, RA4, for filling in the hole in my life.

  ?__________

  For the last few days, since everyone went home, time has stopped dead in its tracks.

  I think it’s Monday, April 6

  Oh yes, it is, because tomorrow my surprise is coming. Why would I like a stranger lady? I mean…I don’t know what I mean.

  Tuesday, April 7

  Oh, Self:

  I’ve had the most lovely day. Mr. Pederson brought Aunt Thelma’s friend in on the helicopter, which he only does on very special occasions. They landed in the meadow down by the pond, scaring the living daylights out of the wild ducks. It was funny and fun seeing them all go up as the helicopter came down, quacking in a multicolored cloud and flapping crazily in every which direction.

  I can’
t believe that the lady was Dr. B., who put together one of my favorite books, Go Ask Alice, from the diary of a girl my age who had gotten into drugs.

  As soon as Aunt Thelma introduced us and told me about Dr. B., I knew what they were thinking immediately! A light as big as those strobe lights that shoot up in the sky for new store openings popped on in my brain. Ever since I first found out I had AIDS, I’ve wished, like everything, that I had someone to talk to about it, someone who could answer my questions or at least question my answers. After a few minutes, Aunt Thelma excused herself and went up to the house, leaving me and Dr. B. to talk about…my book!!! It seemed unreal, but Dr. B. assured me it was as real a possibility as I was.

  I felt like we had been friends forever, like we were long-lost relatives or something. She said Aunt Thelma had called her and said it might be good for me to unload my pain and strain with someone who was knowledgeable…and that…anyway, she’s here and I’m glad, I’m really glad! Maybe I can do something in some way to help other kids who are in my situation. I really hope so. I’m still not sure if I was raped, or if I just set myself up for it, but I guess I’ll never know that answer for sure. I do know that I shouldn’t have had a boy over when Mom was gone and that I shouldn’t have gotten drunk. It was really my first time…except that New Year’s Eve with Red. Oh, crap, I am so tired of beating myself up. If I’d known then what I know now, would I have acted more sensibly? Crazy thoughts, go away…go away…if you must come again, come next never day!

  2:07 P.M.

  Aunt Thelma suggested I rest after lunch, which we had down by the pond. It was really nice.

  But I can’t rest. I’m too excited. I feel more excited and healthy and strong than I have in, I can’t remember when. Maybe this will make me get well. Being happy and feeling helpful and all like that might bring up my immune system and my endorphins and all that self-healing stuff. Oh, I do hope so…miracles do happen! This might be a miracle! Oh, please, please let it be a miracle, God.

  Dr. B. has worked with troubled kids for many years—drugs, alcohol and all the other stuff. I told her about my junior high and how filthy lots of the kids talked and how immoral a lot of them were…but I didn’t tell her about Dorie. She’s different. She just got carried away and let her hormones take over her brain. Anyway, Dr. B. said she understood what I was saying, but that kids had to learn that they “couldn’t keep birds from flying over their heads, but they could keep them from making nests in their hair.” I like that! If I don’t…you know…pretty soon, I think maybe I’ll be a writer. There would certainly be plenty of stuff to write about up here. All Melvin’s stories, and about Aunt Thelma and Uncle Rod and how they came up here many years ago after he had a stroke, and his face was all kind of funny and weird. Originally, they were going to stay here just for a while. He’d write his column, and she’d paint, and they’d move back to New York when he recovered, but he never did recover, and they never did want to leave, and then he died.

  I can’t wait any longer. I’ve got to go down. I guess writing would be considered the same as resting, right?

  Say Right!

  Okay. Right!

  10:30 P.M.

  Tomorrow morning Melvin is going to hitch up an old buggy that hasn’t been used in years, and Aunt Thelma is going to take Dr. B. and me up to some of the places I love. She’ll bring her painting gear and go off and paint somewhere so Dr. B. and I can be alone. She’s so thoughtful! I know she knows there are some things and feelings I want to pretend she doesn’t know. Like it’s sooooooooooo hard on me to have her have to wear all the protective gear she has to wear when she gives me a bath and changes my bed and stuff. At first she didn’t want to do it, but I insisted because Dr. Sheranian said she must! She’s always got scratches and blisters from working in the garden and helping Melvin with fences and stuff. Anyway, that hurts a lot, especially when my rectal ulcers flare up and there are little pools of blood. I almost panic! It’s soooooo gross, even with my diapers. No teenage kid should have to wear diapers—especially me! No—especially anybody!

  But I’ve got to think about positive things, like what we’re going to do tomorrow.

  I’ve been famished all day. The first time in forever that food has really tasted good. Aunt Thelma even put some raisin oatmeal cookies and milk on my nightstand, and I’ve eaten three of them, can you believe that? And a half a glass of milk. I guess some of the reason I haven’t eaten much for a while is because, with the rectal ulcer, when I go BM, it’s like fire-and-brimstone-type hell literally; even my urine on them is like salt on an open wound. IT IS SALT ON AN OPEN WOUND. But I’ve got to eat so I can get better, don’t I? “The lesser of two evils,” as someone once said.

  OH, SELF, TURN THAT GARBAGE OFF…RELAX…THINK OF TOMORROW…EXACTLY WHERE WILL WE GO? What do I want to ask Dr. B. and to tell her? Actually…I better go to sleep so I’ll have some energy, right? Right!

  Friday, April 10

  5:20 A.M.

  I can hear Aunt Thelma stirring around downstairs, trying to get things ready so she can come up and help me, but I feel so good I can do it all by myself.

  5:49 A.M.

  I started to go downstairs, filled with excitement about the day. Then I passed the full-length mirror at the top of the stairs. The sun was shining in on it, and the creature that looked back at me was like something from a horror flick! Stringy hair! Whatever happened to my beautiful blond hair? Sunken eyes and big ugly black things starting on my face and neck. Suddenly, I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to lock myself in my room and never, NEVER, NEVER COME OUT!

  But that’s stupid. Dr. B. and I have to finish my book to help other kids! That will be my legacy. I will never have children to live after me…to make a difference in the world…

  Aunt Thelma and Melvin’s motto is “DO IT.” So, Self, finish with your Pity Party and let’s get moving. Don’t pay any attention to that lying old mirror in the hall. Close your eyes when you walk past it and think of yourself as pretty as you used to be.

  7:59 P.M.

  I have never been so exhausted in my life, Self, but it’s a good exhaustion because we’ve had a day fit for the gods. Aunt Thelma took food enough for an army and three folding lounges so we could take a couple of naps during the day. At least Cougar and I did. I think maybe Aunt Thelma read, and Dr. B went over her notes and tapes.

  We went up to Indian Paint Brush Falls and over to the aspen grove and down by the foot of the mountain in the little fir tree circle where Uncle Rod and Red Alert are buried. Dr. B. called it a Sacred Circle, and I think she’s right. I will from now on think of it as that too.

  We talked about death for a long time, like it was a friend, and great streaks of noonday light shone straight down from Heaven and engulfed and caressed us. Did that sound goony? It really was true! And if I’m going to be a writer, I have to learn to think in true detail like Aunt Thelma taught me to do with my painting.

  Dr. B. believes as Aunt Thelma does, that when I die, my spirit, which isn’t actually sick at all, will just waft up through a tunnel of light, like people who have had near-death experiences say. Dr. B. says she’s also heard of many people who have had loved ones come to escort them; she calls Heaven “home.” I like that too! And it really will be HOME with my little brother, who died when he was two days old, and Grandma Ivy and Great-Grandpa John, and Catsup and Cougar and Uncle Rod, etc. I hope Uncle Rod is sent to take me “HOME.” Why did I write Cougar? I meant Red Alert, but I think Cougar will be going “home” soon too.

  RA4 has become a constant companion when I’m outside, but he’ll never be Red Alert, and there could never possibly, worlds without end, be another Cougar. Maybe there shouldn’t be. I hope there’s never another ME, except ME.

  Epilogue

  Nancy died in her sleep April 12th—two days after her last entry.

  She is buried next to Uncle Rod in the center of the Sacred Fir Tree Circle. Red Alert’s grave is close to Nancy’s feet, and ailing
Cougar will be buried beside him.

  On Nancy’s wooden tombstone Melvin carved:

  THERE WILL NEVER BE

  ANOTHER NANCY

  Questions Nancy Wanted Answered About Rape and AIDS

  1. WILL I EVER RECOVER FROM BEING RAPED?

  Emphatically yes! If you talk to a rape counselor and learn to know truly that YOU WERE NOT RESPONSIBLE! That if you said no, it should have meant no! That you were a victim! That you are not alone! That thousands of others before you have recovered! That you will also!

  2. WHAT SHOULD ANYONE, BOY OR GIRL, DO AFTER HE OR SHE IS RAPED?

  Get to a phone as soon as possible. Call 911, the police or your local Rape Crisis Center. They will get you to a hospital or clinic. DO NOT BATHE, WASH, CHANGE CLOTHES, GO TO THE BATHROOM, DRINK ANYTHING OR BRUSH YOUR TEETH.

  3. WHY?

  Because semen is as identifiable as fingerprints and there may be a trace in your mouth as well as on your clothes, etc.

  4. WILL GOING TO A HOSPITAL IMMEDIATELY AFTER YOU ARE RAPED KEEP YOU FROM BECOMING PREGNANT OR GETTING AIDS OR OTHER DISEASES?

  The nurse or doctor at your local hospital or clinic will give you medications to prevent pregnancy. They will also use antibiotics for STD (sexually transmitted diseases). However, AIDS and Herpes II viruses cannot, at this time, be cured or prevented by ANY MEDICATIONS.

  5. ARE MOST RAPISTS SCARY STRANGERS IN THE BUSHES?

  No; 72 percent of reported rapes are acquaintance rapes (meaning family members, friends, neighbors, etc.) or date rapes. Only 22 percent are stranger rapes. Professionals in the field estimate that over 80 percent of rapes are not reported. Very few boys report rapes or call hot lines, although they should. (Source: National Victim’s Center, Arlington, VA 22201.)

  6. WHERE CAN SOMEONE GO TO SEE IF HE OR SHE HAS BEEN INFECTED WITH THE AIDS VIRUS? HOW MUCH DOES IT COST?

 

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