Blue

by Lou Aronica

  He needed to make the most of his time in Tama-risk. There had to be a way to fast-track the analysis process. He was more convinced than ever that their blight had some earthly equivalent—if not Dothistroma, then something else—and understanding the differences in the ecosystems would reveal it.

  “Chris, we might need to take two people from your department. Do you have any thoughts about how to approach that?”

  He knew he wasn’t going to be lucky enough to escape wielding the axe this time around. He pretended to write a note on the pad in front of him. “I’ll need to take some time with that. We’re running pretty lean.”

  Cutting two people would devastate his department and maybe even make it impossible to run. Executive management wouldn’t want to hear that, though. The COO had moved to another department head to deliver more bad news when Chris’s assistant opened the conference room door. She apologized for interrupting and handed Chris a note that read: You have an urgent phone call.

  For some reason, Chris folded the paper and put it in his pocket. He made eye contact with the COO and pantomimed talking on the phone. The COO nodded and turned back to the conversation. As long as I deliver a couple of heads on a platter, he doesn’t care if I stay in this meeting or not. Chris wondered if he could use the excuse of the phone call to skip the rest of it.

  “Who’s on the phone?” Chris said to his assistant as they walked down the hall.

  “It’s your ex-wife.”

  “Polly?” As the identity of the caller registered, the hairs on the back of Chris’s neck rose. Polly had called him at the office to hassle him about one thing or another over the years, but she’d never pulled him out of a meeting to do so. This wasn’t about anything that arbitrary.

  There could only be one reason why she was on the phone.

  “What’s wrong?” he said as he picked up the receiver.

  “Becky collapsed in school. I just got the call.”

  “Oh my God. What happened?”

  Polly’s voice was unsteady. “I don’t know anything other than that she passed out in class. I’m going to the hospital right now.”

  “I’ll meet you there.”

  Chris hung up the phone, closed his eyes, and tried to take a couple of deep breaths. She’s strong. You know she’s strong. This won’t beat her. Then he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, stopping only long enough to tell his assistant that he had a family emergency.

  Right after Becky had gotten sick, he’d anticipated this call nearly every day. Even after she went into remission, he still clutched when the phone rang in the office until he knew who it was. So many years had passed that he was no longer aware if he had the same reaction, but all it took was the mention of Polly’s name to raise the anxiety he’d submerged. He’d convinced himself a long time ago that Becky had overcome the disease. He couldn’t convince himself now, however, that there was any other explanation for why she’d passed out. He’d never been that much of an optimist.

  Driving to the hospital, trying to keep his fears in check at least well enough to avoid an accident, he remembered the drive home from the doctor’s office when Polly and he had first gotten the news. He’d felt so weak, he could barely turn the wheel. In the passenger seat, Polly looked catatonic, staring straight ahead, only the narrowness of her eyes betraying how devastated she felt. In his heart, Chris had truly believed that Becky was going to be fine; for some entirely unfounded reason, he had been certain she’d prevail over the leukemia. Still, she would have to endure rigors and hardships that no five-year-old should ever have to face. When he’d thought about the pain and fear she would go through, his heart cracked open. Suddenly, he couldn’t drive any longer. He’d managed to get the car to the side of the road before the sobbing overtook his body. He’d reached out for Polly and they’d cried together. He’d hurt so badly for Becky, for what the next year of her life was likely to be like. Through it all, though, he’d kept thinking with absolute conviction, she’s going to be okay. Eventually, she’s going to be okay.

  Why wasn’t he having those thoughts now? Why did they seem artificial in his mind?

  He found Polly in the emergency room. Al was already with her. He must have left from work the second Polly called him.

  “What’s going on?” Chris said.

  “She’s conscious. They’re running tests. They said they’ll let us see her right after they’re done.”

  “Do the doctors have any idea what happened?”

  For the briefest moment, Polly looked at him incredulously; as though she were wondering if he hadn’t already come to the only conclusion conceivable. “They haven’t said anything yet, but Chris . . . ,” Her voice quavered and she turned into Al’s embrace. Al looked at him sympathetically while he held his wife. It was obvious that even Al, who’d never known Becky when she was sick, understood the implications. This thing was so much harder to beat a second time.

  A few minutes later, a nurse came out to tell them they could see Becky. Chris had been standing the entire time and was surprised at how unsteady his legs felt when he began walking. He took a couple more deep breaths as he headed toward Becky’s bed. Don’t let her see you freak out.

  Becky looked surprisingly normal. She was pale and she seemed sunken in the bed, but she otherwise seemed just like herself. Chris wasn’t sure what he thought he’d see when he got here, but he didn’t expect her to look like she had a touch of the flu. He wasn’t sure why he thought this. Certainly, he knew this kind of disease didn’t transform a person instantaneously.

  “I threw up on one of the doctors,” Becky said when she saw them. Al took an exaggerated step back, and Becky offered him an appreciative smile. Polly kissed her and held her and then Chris pressed his lips against her forehead, holding his face next to hers for longer than he had in years.

  “Have they told you anything?” Becky said.

  Chris shook his head. “It takes some time for them to get the test results.”

  Becky nodded. “It’s probably gonna get ugly again, huh?”

  “Let’s not jump to any conclusions before we have the information, babe.”

  Becky watched him carefully for a moment. The thoughts behind her expression were unmistakable. Then she lowered her eyes before glancing at her mother. Polly squeezed her hand and Chris wasn’t certain he’d be able to keep up this façade for very long.

  They moved Becky to a hospital room shortly thereafter. A few hours later, her doctor asked Chris, Polly, and Al to step into the hallway.

  “There’s no way to sugarcoat this, so I’m not going to try,” the doctor said. “Becky’s cancer is back. It’s in several parts of her body and it appears to be spreading rapidly.”

  Polly clutched Al’s arm and said, “Will you start treatment right away?”

  “We can start treatment tomorrow morning, but I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. Becky’s disease is quite advanced. It’s amazing she didn’t show any symptoms until now. It hasn’t even been a year since her last physical, but this kind of thing can move so quickly in someone this young.”

  The rest of the conversation came to Chris as though they held it underwater. He even participated in some of it, asking a few questions. He retained none of the answers, though. Instead, the doctor’s voice looped in his head, saying, “Becky’s cancer is back.”

  This wasn’t a false alarm. And this time not even the doctor was trying to keep their hopes up.

  Becky knew what her parents were going to say as soon as they walked into the room. Realistically, she knew what was going on long before they did. Did she actually think she could just make it go away? In truth, at least a part of her believed she could. Still, if she’d held out any hope at all, it evaporated when she saw their faces. Mom was doing everything she could to hold herself together and Dad looked like all the color had drained out of him. Even Al looked completely confused.

  Mom and Dad stood on either side of the bed and took her hands. At
that very moment, Becky felt butter-flies in her stomach. She wanted to press the pause button. When they started speaking, this would all become real.

  “It’s horrible, isn’t it?” she said.

  Her mother held her hand to the side of her face. “The doctor is going to begin treatment tomorrow. There are things we can try.”

  “Is it in my blood again?” She glanced back and forth at her parents and saw them looking at each other.

  Her father knelt next to her. “Beck, it’s in a number of places.”

  Even though she’d guessed that it could be worse this time, the news hit Becky incredibly hard. How do you react to something like that any other way? Neither of them had come right out and said “Becky, you’re dying,” but they didn’t need to. She knew what it meant that the cancer was in “a number of places.” She’d read enough about it online the past few years.

  She closed her eyes, but that didn’t stop the tears from coming. She heard her parents crying then. She felt her father’s head bobbing against the mattress. Had they been like this the last time? If they had, she didn’t remember any of it. For that matter, she had no memory of crying herself last time. She remembered how horrible all the vomiting felt, how much she hated losing her hair, how much trouble she’d had sleeping, but she didn’t remember crying. Maybe it was because she didn’t understand what was really going on. Maybe it was because she didn’t realize then what the odds were.

  Opening her eyes, she put her hand on her father’s head to try to comfort him. Dad got her through those early nights by filling her mind with thoughts of Tama-risk. Who knew then that they were creating something real, that they would one day travel there together? Would Tamarisk help them again now? Would it give them somewhere to go to get away from this disgusting reality?

  The thought of Tamarisk reminded her of the blight for the first time since she’d passed out. When they’d met with the council last night, Miea had taken Dad outside to ask him if he could come more often. Dad and she had talked about it in the morning, though neither of them had any idea how to make that work.

  She had an idea now, though. Tamarisk was sick as well, but it was possible her father could find a cure. Maybe one good thing could come from her relapse.

  “I want to go home,” Becky said.

  Dad lifted his head. “We can’t take you out yet, babe.”

  “I want to leave as soon as we can. I don’t want to stay in the hospital any longer than I have to.”

  Mom patted her hand. “I’ll talk to the doctors about it,” she said, her voice wavering. “I’m sure they can administer the treatment on an outpatient basis.”

  “There’s more,” Becky said, watching every eye in the room lock on her. “When we get home, I want to split my time equally between your houses.”

  Mom started to speak. “Honey, I’m not sure that’s really the best—”

  “—No, Mom. There’s no discussion. You never asked me what I wanted. No one ever asked me how I wanted to do this when you and Dad split up. From now on—however long that is—this is what I want.”

  Mom and Dad both bowed their heads. It was almost like they were praying. Al looked at her with his lips pressed together, then patted her leg and turned toward the window.

  Everything was different now. When she’d woken up this morning, her biggest concern had been finding a way to get her father more days in Tamarisk. She would never have wished for this solution, but at least she had it. This would give them a chance to accomplish their mission.

  And she really, really needed a mission right now.

  Maybe it’s never meant to get easier for me, Miea thought as she sat at her desk late at night after another debilitating series of meetings. Maybe the path of my adult life is to go from horrible to difficult to extremely horrible and then to a devastating end. Miea had always believed that the trials she’d faced after her parents died forged new strength in her, established a sense of resolve that would propel her in untold ways as she grew into her reign. After yet another session with her council regarding the blight, though, the question she could no longer avoid moved to the forefront of her mind.

  Am I the last queen of Tamarisk?

  They were no closer to a cure for the blight than they had been the day farmers discovered the first infested plants. Botanists ran the same tests repeatedly. Ecologists sought answers in the balance between species. Spiritualists peered into the ether for clues. Government officials interrogated the son of the vice chancellor of the Thorns while intelligence experts sought other clues about their involvement. None of this led anywhere. The brief flurry of hope that had come with the arrival of Becky’s father dissipated as it became clear that he needed more time to do his work than he could spend in this world. He’d promised to try to find a way to come more often, but neither he nor Becky had appeared since. It was the longest stretch of time without Becky since her arrival. Had they abandoned Tamarisk, too heartbroken about its condition to witness the end?

  Miea stood and walked to the picture of her father that sat on a shelf near the doorway. Her mother’s picture was on the other side, as though the two stood sentry over the entrance to her office. Everyone told her that her father looked especially placid in this picture, at ease with his kingdom, blissfully unaware of what fate had reserved for him. Miea agreed that he exuded peace, but only she noticed the slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes. Her father had something on his mind. It might have been concern about a diplomatic tangle, it could have been thoughts about a new piece of music he’d heard the night before, or it might have been some sort of musing about his daughter’s studies. Miea was certain of only one thing: whatever her father had been thinking about at that moment, it was important to him. That was the only time his face showed that crinkle.

  Miea had spoken to his picture often since she had become queen. She imagined it was one of the ways she could reach him and confess her concerns to him, knowing from his expression that he considered everything she said seriously. She never knew whether the connection she felt with him in this space was real (she believed now that the meeting they’d had in the darkness the night she met Becky was something else entirely), but the conversations she had with him here had helped her on so many occasions. Nearly as much as the conversations they’d had when he was alive.

  “You don’t have any answers for this either, do you?” she said to the picture. One of the few true memories Miea had of the last blight was a discussion her father had had with one of his aides when he didn’t realize she could hear him. There was an unfamiliar tone to his voice as he expressed frustration over his inability to do anything to find a cure.

  “Tamarisk might as well not have a king for all the good I’m doing,” he’d said. In that moment, Miea had understood for the first time that her father was fallible, that his strength and wisdom had limits. While he probably would have been horrified to know she’d heard him say this, it had made her love him more than ever. That night, at bedtime, she’d hugged him longer than usual when he said good night and when he pulled back he looked at her as though he understood why she did it. They never talked about that moment, but there was never any need.

  “How do I prepare the kingdom for this?” she said now. “How do I let them know that we don’t have a future?”

  Miea closed her eyes and leaned her head against the picture. She knew her father couldn’t help her with this, but she needed to feel his strength. As she allowed herself to absorb the darkness, she felt a sensation that was different from what she usually felt when doing this. She felt comforted, yes, but she’d felt that many times before. No, this was something else.

  She felt consoled.

  The thought made her knees weaken.

  As she lifted her head, eyes still closed, Miea felt a presence in the room. Startled, she turned quickly, expecting Sorbus or one of the aides and feeling a bit embarrassed that they’d seen her doing this. Instead, she found Becky.

  Instantly, sh
e relaxed. “I’m glad you’re back. I was getting a little worried.”

  Becky didn’t smile. Becky always smiled when they met. She even did so that day she came and left quickly.

  “I have something to tell you,” she said. “Do you think we could sit down?”

  Miea didn’t like the tone of Becky’s voice. She sounds like me , Miea thought as they walked to the sofa.

  Becky sat. “I’m sorry it took me a while to get back here. I had to spend a few days at the hospital.”

  Miea felt a twinge of alarm. “The hospital? Are you okay?”

  Becky lowered her eyes. “I’m not, no.” She looked up and, as their eyes locked, Miea felt a wave of sadness she’d only experienced once before. “I’m dying,” Becky said in a whisper.

  Tears flooded Miea’s eyes. She pulled Becky toward her and buried Becky’s head in her neck. For several minutes, she felt as though she had surrendered control of her body. She couldn’t speak and she couldn’t raise her head. She couldn’t do anything but hold Becky close to her and feel the shaking of the girl’s weeping.

  At last, she gathered herself enough to sit up straight. “What has happened to you?”

  Becky took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. “My cancer is back. It’s everywhere.”

  “Aren’t there things your doctors can do about this? They helped you the last time.”

  “It was different last time. It wasn’t this advanced.” Becky stared off, shaking her head. “I was so stupid. I started feeling things and I tried to convince myself that I could ignore it. I should have gone to the doctor earlier.”

  “There’s really no treatment?”

  “They’re trying things. Things that make me feel awful. None of them will work, though. I’m trying to have the right attitude, but I just know that nothing will help.”

  This was so difficult for Miea to believe. Becky didn’t look sick. She looked confused and shaken, but she didn’t look sick. Then again, if one looked at the gardens of the Palace, one would never know that her kingdom was in grave danger, either.