October 18, 2011

Eury Morrissey

I sat at the dining room table, staring at a pile of papers neatly organized into three separate columns. The first pile had every job-posting currently available in Yamhill county. And every single one of them was crossed out.

I had no degree so none of the offices in downtown Sheridan would look twice at me. I couldn’t drive. I couldn’t lift. I could barely walk a mile without getting winded. That only left me with one option—customer service. And I still doubted any place would hire me. The moment they met me, they’d come to the same conclusions as everyone else. Either she’s so quiet, there’s no way she could ever work here! Or wow! Her personality is just the worst! I’d never want to hire her. So that pretty much knocked the rest of the options off the table.

To my right was the second stack. On the top was the letter from the University of Gonzaga, kindly informing us that although we were still on the hook for first semester’s fees, but due to my condition, we wouldn’t need to worry about the second. I had finished almost a full month of classes, so that was fair. On the other hand though, the thing that stung, I would still need to retake—and pay for—those same classes. Thirty-two thousand dollars instead of sixty-four thousand. What a deal. Beneath that letter were my hospital files. My father had combed through them several times, preparing for when I came home. It was what he did best, and I think it was how he coped. The same day I returned home was when the small-industrial sized medical oxygen tank arrived.

“I bought it online! Don’t worry, it’s never been used!” He told me as I stared, dumbfounded at the silver barrel that took up the majority of the backyard shed.

“That’s not the point, dad. Why’d you even bother?” I said, looking out my bedroom window. It was there that I got a firsthand view of the lengths that man was willing to go. All for something that barely even mattered.

I did not have to look at the bottom of the sheet. I had read it enough times to recite it from memory. The total on the hospital bill came to one-hundred and three thousand dollars and fifty-six cents

I had enough from scholarships and savings to cover the university bill. But this? There was no way that I had enough for this. There was no way anyone had enough for this, shy of making a deal with the devil.

I shuffled in my chair. The O2 tank dad had set up in a little rolly-bag rolled forward and fell to the ground, pulling the tubing down with it, and me face first into my very own deal with the devil.

The center sheet was that deal. A single, greyscale sheet that they stuffed into my patient file with all the rest. One that I hadn’t noticed until my father had pointed it out earlier that morning. The insignia at the top of the sheet was from a company called Ingenitech. Their offer was a simple one. Almost too good to be true. I would need to go through several long, and intensive periods of something similar to chemotherapy, but not. My dad scoffed at the page when he first saw it. To him, the lobectomy had done its job: cleaning out all the bad, leaving all the rotten me behind. But the reality was a little more grey than that.

Sure, it did do the job, it did get rid of the lung cancer, however, Dr. Basak was a little more skeptical. And when he told me to be “vigilant”, it took the drive home for me to understand that it was coming back. I stared at the offer. That was the reason why it was so enticing. Or at least, half of it. The other half was the compensation. One-hundred and three thousand dollars. Paid in full, upon completion of the trial.

That was when all the bells and alarms that my brain could produce when off. It was too perfect. Too helpful. Exactly what I needed when I needed it. I was sure that was no coincidence, but it just stunk.

“Why are you even looking at that thing baby?” I jumped when my mom’s head appeared over my shoulder. I’m sure if I wasn’t deafened by this stupid oxygen thing around my head that I would’ve been able to hear her.

“Because…” I still hadn’t figured out the right way to explain my suspicions. There wasn’t much that I kept from her but—

Not much except for a little fling with one of her coworkers.

I shut my eyes before she walked into view. Just avoid, deflect, and if I couldn’t do either of those, just do anything but look in her concerned eyes.

“You didn’t need to take the day off from work. I’m fine on my own.” I said, trying my best to push the thoughts down.

“Honey, we’re here because we wanted to take care of you.” She said, standing with her hands on her hips, leaning on the table when I opened my eyes. “Also, because is a terrible answer. If you’re going to do something, do it for a reason, not just because.”

As annoying as a lecture was, I would rather take that than tell her the truth.

“I’m going into town later to do some shopping, do you want to come?”

“I dunno.” I muttered, looking down at the papers again.

“It’ll help if you do, baby. Give you something else to do. You’ve been cooped up in here since you’ve been home. Have you even been to town yet?”

“I went with dad to the yard the other day.”

“The lumber yard does not count as ‘going to town’.” She flipped over the offer from Ingenitech. “How ‘bout we go down main? I’ve got a few quick errands to run, Then after that we can go to that new clothing shop that they opened up, and finish off with a coffee at Lleone’s.” She leaned down until she was practically laying on the table, all just to force herself into my vision. The moment her pleading green eyes entered my field of view, I started to crumble.

“I don’t really have the money for that, mom.”

She laughed. “And why would I be expecting you to pay, huh? What kinda mom do you think I am all the sudden? I’m not inviting you out to have you pay, I’m inviting you out for a treat! I can’t remember the last time that we went shopping together, anyways.”

I did. I was eight, and it was when all the others, the foster kids, were still living with us. She had piled the six of us into the van. Took us all down to go shopping down at the Lloyd center in Portland. It was the first time I had ever been in the mall, and the first time that we—as a family—had been anywhere outside of Sheridan. The trip was a disaster. An unmitigated, uncontrollable disaster. The boys ran wild causing havoc. While Helen and the other girls disappeared doing god knows what. By the time it was all said and done, my Dad had to drive up to Portland to deal with it. All the while I had spent the majority of the day sitting alone and forgotten on the bench I had been told to wait on. Like the diligent little-doll I was. While the rest of the kids were running wild, I was just forgotten. Faded into the background for the first time. That was the day that set the pattern for the rest of my life, and it didn’t end even after the fosters left.

“It’s fine either way. I don’t need any new clothes.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Need? You’re being quite presumptuous today. Let's get you something pretty because we want to.”

“It’s not like you should be spending any more money on me. It’s fine, I’m feeling sick, anyways.”

Mom’s expression dropped, and she stood quickly.

“What do you mean more? Honey. It’s fine!” She circled around the table and wrapped her long arms around me, filling my nostrils with the same scent of perfume that she had worn since I was born. It was my dad’s favorite, and if I was being honest—but would never admit it to anyone—a favorite of mine as well. To me, it smelled like that first breath of a spring morning. After it rained all night long. Petrichor.

“Have you seen these?” I said, gesturing to the pile. “There’s no way this is fine.”

“I don’t care about those, baby. They don’t matter to us. You do.” She squeezed me just a little tighter. “Nothing in this world matters more to us than you.”

Now. You only matter to them now.

“I’m not going to just let you pay that, mom! It’s not fair, it’s my problem, just let me deal with it.”

“Baby, every single thing that you have to worry about, every single thing that you have to deal with, is something that we will deal with as well . That’s what it means to be parents. We are here for you. As long as you need however we can.”

I couldn’t bear to hear her say that.

“That’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid?” She didn’t sound surprised. In fact, her saccharine tone of voice didn’t even shift at all. “Taking care of you?”

“No! Wasting your life just for me! It’s not even worth it. I just should’ve…”

“Should have what?”

“I should have just died there. Or better yet, I should’ve just dropped dead before I even went to Spokane.”

“Don’t say that.” She held me closer, not tighter, a hostage in her grasp. “Don’t ever even think that.”

“Why? It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what? I’m just telling the truth.”

“No, you’re not. You’re telling yourself terrible lies. Lies that might have some sweet thought at their core—some sort of kindness that you’re trying to give us—but they’re still nothing more than that. We don’t care about the bills, or the work. Just you.”

I knew she was trying her best to get through, but there was no way. Every word she said made me realize how bad it really was like sugar over cyanide.

“You’re going to ruin your damn lives just to keep me alive! It’s not fair!”

“You’re enough reason, Eury.” I felt another arm wrap around me. I didn’t hear my dad come into the room. “At the end of the day, everything we do, we do for you.”

“Stop it!” I tried to squirm out of their arms. “Just let me go damnit!”

“Not gonna happen.” Dad said. Plainly like it was fact, and I hated it.

After a long day of shopping with a woman who loved to shop—when the most you had done in the last few years was done alone—was extremely tiring. The moment my butt hit the rickety metal chair on Lleone’s patio, the exhaustion hit me all at once. Mama Lleone took our order, and within a few minutes, we were sipping the best coffee in town. I allowed myself to get drawn into the caffeine as I continued to avoid thinking about this morning. I couldn’t help but be thankful that the two of them were so hellbent on wasting their money on me. But it meant that there’d be a long time before I’d be able to look either of them in the eyes again without feeling guilty.

“Isn’t that Helen’s friend?” Mom said, looking down the sidewalk behind me.

“Who?” I turned to see a small group of guys walking towards Lleone’s. At the center was the tall, beautiful, Alaska Bell.

“The blonde girl?” My mom asked as I turned back to face my coffee.

“Yeah, that’s Alaska.”

It was the first time I had seen her since she was sent off to some military academy in our freshman year. I hadn’t seen her in a long time, but between pictures on Facebook and the fact that all the broad strokes of her were the same as they were before, it would’ve been hard to forget someone I thought of as my best friend for so long.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?”

“I doubt she remembers me.”

“Well, she is coming over, so...”

“What?” I turned in my chair just as she approached our table.

“Mrs. Morrissey. Eury! It’s great to see you two.”

“It is!” My mom said, not hesitating to stand and hug her. She was always the hugging type.

“Hey.” I said, trying not to make it too awkward, but with my gaze firmly on my coffee I didn’t scream casual either.

“It’s been forever! Do you mind if I sit?” Alaska asked, eagerly hovering over a chair.

That broke my trance on my coffee, and I was glad that it did. Mom and Alaska were looking to me for my answer.

“Yeah, sure.”

Alaska took the seat beside me. And within minutes, she had punched through my unwieldy defenses and had me talking. And for the next seven years. Alaska and I would meet at this little cafe every time we were in town. It was the beginning of the first true, no-caveat friendship I ever had.