Sunshiner

The sterile stench of the hospital stung my nose and burned my throat. It smelled way too clean. I knew Candace must have hated it here.

When I found her room, she cringed at the sight of me. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” she said in a soft voice.

I tried to force my emotions down and act calm and collected. She didn’t need to see the sight of me breaking down; I was sure that would hurt her even more. As I looked around her eerily white room, I noticed that she and I were the only ones here. “Where are your parents?” I asked, closing the door behind me.

“They’re in the cafeteria, getting food,” she said. “They won’t be back for a while, considering how much my dad eats.” A faint smile decorated her lips and then swiftly fled. “How did you find me?”

I snorted. “Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to?” I inquired.

“A girl can dream,” she said in a bittersweet voice and I tried my best not to feel insulted. “I guess I should have known you wouldn’t stop looking until you found me, right?”

“You got that right,” I said curtly, trying not to sound unkind but I couldn’t hide the sullenness in my tone. I sunk into the squeaky green chair in the corner of the room, screeching it over the tiled floor so that I was closer to her bedside.

We sat there for I don’t know how long. The white clock on the wall ticked away loudly, the seconds screaming by, but I somehow managed to lose all sense of time.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. My head snapped up from its bowed position and my eyes met hers. “I shouldn’t have ignored the fact that I was getting worse; I’m too proud, I guess. And stubborn. And optimistic and stupid. I wanted to go on this trip so, so badly. Now we can’t because I’m stuck here – ”

“You’re not stuck here,” I quickly said. “Soon you’ll get better again, and then they’ll let you out and we’ll be able to catch our flight…”

She let out a laugh that held no humor. “You’re starting to sound like me now.”

I didn’t say anything after that, and I don’t know how the conversation ever picked up again, but somehow it did. Mrs. Harlow and Bear peeked their heads into the room but, upon seeing me, they quickly left. I appreciated that they knew I needed my time with her just as much as they did. Candace and I resumed talking, but about what, I was unsure. Words just left our mouths, words without any real meaning or thoughts attached to them. We spoke to fill the silence.

Apparently our conversation lasted an incredibly long time because all of the sudden I looked outside and it was dark. “I should go,” I said, standing up from my seat. “I didn’t tell my mom where I was going today, and she’ll probably get worried. I’ll see you – ”

“Wait,” she whispered and clutched onto my sleeve before I could get away. I tried to ignore the IV coming out of her arm. “Stay here with me.”

“Your parents probably want to spend time with you…”

“Please.”

I let out a long sigh. “I guess I could give my mom a call. She won’t mind,” I said, which, in other words, meant “of course I’ll stay with you.”

I meant to lie down next to her, since the chair was becoming awfully uncomfortable, but she pointedly looked over at the window. Knowing what she wanted, I walked over to it and threw back the floral-decorated curtain, revealing a star-filled universe. I glanced back at her and, upon seeing a small but comforting smile dancing across her features, I went back over to the bed and lay down next to her, careful not to tangle any of the several wires and tubes. I hastily called my mom and left a voicemail on her cell phone, and after I hung up Candace and I fell into yet another silence.

“Do you believe in God?” she suddenly asked as she stared out the window.

“No,” I murmured. I currently had my face buried in her hair and one of my arms draped around her waist. Religion was the last thing on my mind.

“I do.”

“Hm,” I said. “You never struck me as a religious person.”

She laughed lightly. “That’s the thing. I’m not.” She paused. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately. The God I believe in isn’t the same thing as most Christians think, though; He’s not perfect and He’s not merciful, otherwise I wouldn’t be sick, but He’s definitely real. There’s a Heaven, too, I think. I hope. I mean, it has to be real – there’s no way that all of that,” she nodded towards the endless sea of stars, “was created by accident.”

“It could have been,” I countered. “A lot of scientists believe – ”

“Humans may have been an accident, sure,” she continued, completely ignoring me, “because I’m sure He thinks we’re a mistake, considering how much we make this planet suffer. But nature and the wind and the entire universe weren’t a coincidence. They didn’t form from just a stroke of luck. He did it.”

“My dad used to say that religion is for the weak,” I said, trying my best not to sound like I was intentionally trying to insult her. “People who need God are too dependent; they turn to the Church for answers about life because they’re either too lazy or too afraid to seek the answers by themselves. They think they’re happy because religion gives them a sense of purpose and a place in the world – not to mention the free ticket to Heaven they get. They are too afraid to allow themselves to fear and feel life and even death. Religion is a crutch.”

“I thought you said your dad was an idiot,” she stated.

“He is,” I chuckled. “But as much as I hate to admit this, I have to agree with him with a thing or two. Sometimes fear is a part of life. Sometimes feeling alone and having no answers is just the way you’re supposed to live. If you don’t feel those things, then maybe it’s not worth feeling at all.”

“Well,” she sighed and turned away from the window to rest her head on my shoulder, “maybe your dad is right about a few things about God. But I need it. I need this crutch. Just once. I can’t be brave anymore, and I need to know that there’s something waiting for me after this, I need to know that there’s more to my life than just this stupid cancer. I need more than eighteen years to live. It’s not enough for me.”

I frowned. “What do you mean by only eighteen – ”

“I finally talked to my doctor,” she murmured. “I got my test results back.” She paused for a minute before choking out, “I haven’t got much longer.”

For a moment I couldn’t speak. “How much…?”

“One month,” she whispered.