The Brink of Destruction

I left Mike and Tre still sprawled and snoring in the living room, and Billie humming in the shower. Pulling my coat tight around me, I took the shortcut behind the music library to come out just a block or so from the cancer center. By the time I pressed the elevator button, my nose was almost frozen and I could feel static sending my hair in a hundred flyaway strands, like thready tentacles.

The kids were already gathered in the rec room when I got there, and some of them had new toys they'd gotten for Christmas, that they wanted to show me before we got started. While I oohhed and aahhed over each one, my eyes were searching the room, mentally checking off each familiar face. And there were a few new ones, some who hung back shyly, not knowing yet if I could be trusted.

The only one I hadn't spotted was Petey, and I knew it must be time for his chemo. It was rough on him, those few days until he got a break from it, and then he'd be his normal, sweet, loving self again. My heartstrings tugged for him, and I hoped he'd be feeling better soon.

We were in no hurry today, and the nurses seemed to be content to let the children stay as long as they felt up to it. I told them silly ghost stories, that had them rolling with laughter, and we took turns singing the stupidest songs we could think of--"I Know a Song That Gets on Everybody's Nerves," "Ninety-Nine Bottles of Sprite on the Wall," stuff like that. We were in the middle of a game of Telephone when the door eased open, and a blond, dreadlocked head peered around it cautiously.

"Is this a private party, or can anybody join?" he asked, clutching his guitar case and scratching the back of his neck nervously. The toe of one ragged Converse kicked aimlessly against the leg of the table where the puzzles were stacked.

The hitch in my breath embarrassed me a little--I didn't mean to get so emotional, but it was so good to see him!

"Everybody, I'd like you to meet my very good friend, Billie Joe. Billie, this is...everybody!" I said, sweeping my hand over their little heads.

"Hi!" their voices chirped in chorus, some of them waving at him. "Whose guitar is that?" asked one of the new girls who sat hugging her stuffed Dora the Explorer doll.

No one but me noticed his adam's apple bob up and down once before he answered. Taking a deep breath, he plunged in. "Well, y'see, this guitar used to belong to this really cool guy named Elvis. Any of you know who he was?" I couldn't believe he was weaving the Armstrong bullshit magic on these little kids, but he was on a roll.

Blank stares, until Brian's hand shot into the air. "I know--wasn't he the guy who had the wobbly knees?"

Billie turned his head to hide the laughter. "Yeah, I think that's the same one!" he chuckled, and as he planted the toe of one foot and swiveled his hips, lip curling in a rock 'n roll sneer, the kids burst out giggling at him.

I could see his heart melting all the way across the room.

He sat down on the floor, cross-legged, and began to play his guitar, and I heard a side of him that I doubted many people knew existed. The snotty punk had taken a back seat, and in a sweet, soft voice, he sang them songs about catching fireflies in a jar, and a bear with a bicycle, and a little boat that had a blanket for a sail.

They gathered closer and closer around him, until their tiny hands clung to his knees and rested on his shoulder as he played. I was mesmerized, and felt myself falling in love with him all over again. How wrong I'd been about him at first, when all I knew of him was his rage and defiance. He was at peace now, and he was happy.

Finally we looked at the clock, and I realized we'd been playing for over two hours. The nurses began to gather the kids into little groups to take them back to their rooms, and every one of them had hugs for Billie and me.

"By the way," I asked Denise, the head therapy nurse, "how's Petey doing? Is he having his treatment today?"

She stopped abruptly, avoiding my eyes as she watched Billie packing away his guitar. After a moment, she took my arm and motioned for me to sit down.

"Genny, I'm so sorry to have to tell you this. The day before Christmas, Petey started to run a high fever, and we were treating him for pneumonia. But he had an unexpected allergic reaction to the antibiotics, and stopped breathing. We had to put him on a respirator, but by yesterday afternoon, it was clear there was no brain activity. His parents came in to be with him, and we took him off the machine. It was only a few minutes before he--"

"No," I begged her, my eyes filling with tears. "Please don't say it." I knew it was the pall that lay over this place, the sword that could fall at any time. But to lose him on Christmas day...

"How are his parents coping with it?" I asked, when my voice was steady enough. Their loss was unimaginable to me.

Denise's chin trembled as she fought for control, and she took a deep breath. "They stayed with him for a few minutes, said their goodbyes. Then they asked if they could sign papers to let him be an organ donor for whatever could be used. They said that maybe a part of him could live on that way. But we had to tell them that cancer was one of the conditions that will prevent a person from being able to donate. Such brave people..."

There was a sniffling sound from the back of the room near the door. Billie's back was still toward us, and he fiddled with the latches of the guitar case. But from the corner of my eye, I saw him lift his sleeve toward his face and swipe at his eyes.

Walking toward the parking lot, he was quiet and pensive.

"Billie, I don't know how to thank you for coming up here today," I said softly. "You have no idea what that meant to me."

"Sure, no problem," he said huskily, and there was a quiver in his voice. "They're really cool kids." As he reached the car and slid inside, he stuck the keys in the ignition, but then just sat still, staring out the window.

"You okay?" I asked, laying my hand lightly on his arm.

"Ye-yeah," he replied quickly. "Just thinking about that little boy."

"Petey?"

"Yeah. It just sucks, is all. How do you do this, knowing some of them might not make it?"

It was the first time I'd actually had to face losing one of them, but not the first time I'd thought about it. "I don't know. Maybe it helps me to think they had one more person who cared, and tried to make them feel better. What else can I do?" I shrugged.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do, every day? Can you take seeing them like this?" he asked.

"Maybe. Maybe not. I can't say it won't tear me up inside. But it's the only way I feel like I can make a difference, and I know I have to try."

He hooked an arm around my neck, and pulled me onto his shoulder. "You've got guts, Genny. I knew when I met you that you weren't just out for yourself. You care so much you'll put yourself on the line for people you love, and I love that about you. I wish I was more like that."

I pulled away to look up at him. "You took kind of a risk coming up here today too, don't you think? I mean, I know you were kind of nervous until you got to know them, but you came anyway. That takes courage, too."

He cranked the engine, that wonderful crooked grin of his dazzling me once again. "I was just riding your wake, girl."

*************************************

"Don't even get out of the car!" Tre yelled drunkenly. "We're going to The Cradle, and you're driving!" We'd just pulled into the driveway and Billie hadn't even turned off the engine when the drummer came staggering out of the apartment. He got the back door open on the second try and fell across the seat with a grunt.

"Get the fuck out of my car, you swine!" Billie growled, but he was trying not to laugh. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Mike loped around the back corner of the house, followed by Wynn and Criss. Seeing Tre's feet hanging out the car door, he shook his head like a weary father, and Billie rolled down the car window.

"Do you mind telling me what he's on about?" he asked.

"Stupid douchebag, found out He Is Legend is at Cat's Cradle tonight and he wants to go so bad he'd walk if he had to. I'm not sure he's even in shape for that, though."

Billie looked at his watch. "Tre, you do realize it's only 4:30, right?"

"Jus'--jus' waidaminnuteokay? Jus' waidaminnute. Godda go to Carrboro, an' don't wanna be inna back, moshin's inna front!" he explained, as if it all made complete sense if we'd only listen to him.

"But Tre, the show doesn't start until 8:00, and it only takes twenty minutes to get there. They aren't even open yet!" Mike laughed.

Tre rolled over on the seat and stared at the ceiling of the car. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he was thinking hard.

"I gotta pee!" he finally announced, and heaved himself up and out of the car, weaving his way back into the apartment.

"Mike, don't let him piss in the refrigerator again!" Billie shouted as Mike took off behind Tre. He rubbed his hand over his eyes and sighed. "Why do we keep him around?" he groaned.

"Because of me," Criss said with a smirk. "You all know I'm the coolest friend you've got, and if you ditch him, you won't get to hang out with me!"

"Question is, why do YOU put up with him?" Billie chuckled. "Never mind, I know it's the sex. It's got to be the sex. I can't think of anything else that worthless sack of shit's good at, so he must be some kind of super stud."

One of Criss' eyebrows lifted slowly as the corners of her mouth followed in a slow, evil grin.

"Oh, God, don't tell us--I don't even want to know!" Wynn said, covering her ears. "I'm too young for this!"

Billie locked the car and we followed the other girls inside. Mike was herding Tre back up the hall from the bathroom, watching incredulously as he bounced off first one wall, then the other.

"So are you guys really up for this?" Billie asked, sliding his guitar case behind the couch.

Wynn looked at me and shrugged. "Sure, I'm in. What about you, Gen?"

"You know, I think I could really use a good freakout. Hell yeah, I'll go! Criss?"

Tre had fallen over her lap, his ass in the air, and her open palm made a loud pop as she smacked his cheeks hard. "Get up, you big dork!" she cried. "You're gonna break my knees!"

"My woman luvvvs meeee!" Tre howled, "I know 'cause she beeeats meeee!"

It was good to be home.

****************

Billie took me to Canterbury so I could change clothes before we left. With just the two of us, there was no need anymore for modesty. While I pulled on fresh jeans, he sat hugging his knees on the bed.

"Gen, there's something I want to ask you," he said softly.

"Sure, what is it?" My voice was muffled through the sweatshirt I was pulling over my head.

"I want you to let me help you with school." It was not a question. His voice held a finality that told me he'd been thinking about it and made his decision.

"Absolutely not," I said, just as firmly.

He stared at me as if I'd somehow challenged his manhood. "Why not? Look, think about it. You're going to have to settle up with the Bursar's office in--what, a week or two, tops? Where the hell are you going to come up with the money in that short time? Just let me do this, at least for the semester."

"I can't, Billie. I know you'd be happy to do it, and I admit it would help a lot. But if you start giving away the money Bat left you, pretty soon you won't have anything left. I know you, and you'll help all your friends until you're broke. No, I'll go to Financial Aid day after tomorrow, and sign up for work study. It'll be fine."

He didn't look happy. "You don't need to have a job to worry about when you're trying to take classes."

"Pssshhhht. Lots of people do it. Don't worry, I'm gonna be just fine." I sat down beside him and ran my fingers through his wavy hair. "You have to think about the band now, because this is your shot. You've been given a chance to really work it, and if you don't make the best of it, you may look back and regret it later."

"And if you don't get your degree and get to work with those kids, I'm gonna regret it even more. This is what you were meant to do, Gen. I saw the look in your eyes up there with those kids today, and how much it meant to you to help them. They need you."

"I promise you I won't give up. No matter what, I won't quit until I've graduated. Okay?"

"Okay," he said hesitantly. "But remember you're not just doing it for me. Petey's pulling for you, too."

With a heart that, strangely, felt both heavy and uplifted, I hugged him, hard. "With both of you on my side, how can I lose?" I whispered.