The Ethereal Friendship

A teddy bear for Maria

Chapter 7: A teddy bear for Maria

Marissa

         I couldn’t believe that where I was standing was where it had happened.
It was just a highway road with a ditch dipping into a grassy field.
The tree was nearby. It was strong tree, it wasn’t damaged in the least from the accident. The car accident that had taken the life of Hikari Tanabata.
         Katy bent down and lay a bagged bouquet of flowers at the tree. There was a note attached to it. I didn’t know what it said, but there were many more flowers and notes there. This tree was a memorial to her- the missing headstone.
         I sighed deeply, and put down my own note to the memory of Kari. All it said was,
‘Thank You’. Because I could never express how much her help, and short, but meaningful friendship had done for me. All I could write were those two words.
         “We should go visit the other girls.” Jessica, one of the executives said, solemnly. I turned to her.
         Jake had driven the members of the student council to the crash site that day. So those who hadn’t been to the funereal could say goodbye, and those like me, who still didn’t believe it had happened.
We were representatives of our school and class. This was our duty. No matter how painful it was.
         “Andrea is in the ICU at Sick Kids. Only family can see her.” Katy spoke up.
I grimaced, thinking about the place where Angela had been weeks before.
I hated the ICU.
         “Heather is at a rehab center downtown.” She continued. I wondered how she knew.
         That day Jake had suggested that we convert our usual mid-winter festival to a benefit against drunk driving in memory of Kari. We would raise money for the MADD association, a group taking steps to help stop drinking and driving, instead of raising money for our school. That was what I thought about as I stood looking at the sad memorial to my friend. I wanted to do something to help other people so they never ended up like Kari, just like I wanted to help Angela too. It would be the distraction that I’d wanted to keep myself from going insane with grief over both of my friends, and something I poured my heart into over the next few weeks. But I would never miss a visit with Angela. She was my first priority.
~

Angela


         Later that day a new child was admitted to the big room taking the empty sixth bed. It was hard to believe that a child was stricken with cancer almost every day, and that the large six-bed room was full on a whole floor for children with cancer.
         Angela thought about this as she walked down the halls heading for the in hospital school. It was late in the day, and she knew classes would be over at the all-ages classroom for the children on the oncology ward who were too sick to go to regular school. Just like her. But now that she was doing better, Angela thought she could join the class. It would be easier to study with a teacher present. She wanted to pass the 10th grade. She almost didn’t make it through the 6th grade, but she needed to finish grade 10 biology if she wanted to go to university. She would go to university.
         The other kids all went to the hospital school. Even Tomoya would receive short English lessons there. But Angela had never made it because of how sick she was usually.
         Her feet moved slowly in her slippers, and she felt tired by just walking that short distance. She knew she wasn’t doing well again, but she concentrated on what she was trying to do, and reached the whimsically decorated classroom where she was surprised to find her new four year old roommate standing with his mother. He was still wearing a Spiderman mask around his neck, and she thought back to when the shy, scared little boy had come to their room with his mother and father as a new patient.
         He was just a little bigger then Tomoya, wearing a Spiderman T-shirt and long jeans. He had dirty blonde hair that stuck up at the top of his head, and had big, blue eyes. He was adorable, but incredibly shy. He wouldn’t talk to Nikko or any of the children. In fact, Angela didn’t even know his real name.
         “These are your roommates, honey. Say hello.” The little boy’s mother, a thin, worried looking woman with curly brown hair coaxed, but he said nothing.
         “You a Spiderman fan, champ?” Adrian asked, sitting in his wheelchair so he was eye-level with the shy and scared child.
         The boy stuck his finger in his mouth and nodded, the first reaction any of them had gotten.
         “Oh yes, he just loves Spiderman.” The mother explained for him. He clutched at his shirt with the head of the famous comic book hero pictured on the front.
         “We’ve got both movies in the playroom. You can come watch it whenever you like.” Adrian smiled. He was like a big brother.
         “There’s more then just doctors and medicine here.” Angela added.
         “You hear that, hon?” the boy’s mother asked him. He only cuddled closer to her.
         “I’m so sorry.” The father spoke up. “He’s very scared, as are we, and to him you two are adults.” He said, sighing.
         Like the new boy’s mother, his father was just as distraught, but trying his best to be the strong one. He was tall, with a darker shade of blonde hair then his son, and had tired green eyes.
         “Yeah, Angela and I are both fifteen.” Adrian said. “But there are three others closer to his age.”
         “Yeah, Arcadies and Tomoya are younger. They’re 3 and 5.” Angela added, looking over at the other’s empty beds.
         “Oh that’s good!” the mother cried, happily, bending down and looking at her son.
         “Where are they?” the father asked.
         “The playroom. There’s a 12 year old girl there too named Maria. She’s from our room also.” Adrian continued.
         “What do you think? Do you want to meet Arcadies and Tomoya?” Angela asked the child this time.
         “To-mo-ya?” he asked, and Angela giggled.
         “Tomoya’s from another country called Japan, so that’s why his name is a little strange to you. But you can call him Tomo if you like instead.” She smiled, and then added. “Which reminds me, what’s your name?”
         The little boy looked down at his shirt and then back up at Angela, but didn’t reply. His parents looked at each other.
         “Go on, tell the children your name.” the mother said, but the boy just clung to his mother for dear life, and pulled a Spiderman mask over his head.
         Poor little kid. Angela thought to herself. Sick and scared of this hospital where he would stay for the next few months or so…So many children and doctors, all so foreign and overwhelming to him. He’d been poked and prodded, and given a lot of scary medicine too.
She knew the routine. And she’d felt the same way when she was twelve, and first diagnosed herself.
         “Tell you what,” Adrian started. “We’ll call you Spiderman. How’s that?” He asked, grinning.
         The child looked up at him, pulling down the mask again, with his big, blue, innocent eyes. He made no sound, but Angela could tell he was happy about the name. His mother looked like she was going to cry as she held onto her son, tightly, with both hands. Angela hated to think about what kind of cancer the little boy had.
         “Thank you to you both,” the two parents said, and they brought their son to his new bed across from Angela, and beside Tomoya.
         Angela excused herself then, and said she would go tell the others to come back and meet their new roommate. After she had found them she went down to the school, and that’s where she met the little boy again.
         “Hey Spiderman.” She smiled. Then she noticed that Tomoya and Nikko were there too. As usual the new little boy ignored her, but Tomoya was happy to see her.
         “Anjira~!” he cried, grinning and clinging to her. “This izu my new furiend~!”
‘Spiderman’ still looked nervous, but he didn’t protest to Tomoya’s statement.
         “Hello again, Angela.” The little boy’s mother said. “Thank you for having the others come back. I think Robbie will get along well with Tomo.” She added.
         So Robbie was the little boy’s real name…
         “Nooooo~!” Suddenly Robbie/Spiderman shouted sounding much like Tomoya.
“I wanna be Spiderman!” he whined.
         Tomoya laughed. “Supaida-man! Supaida-man~!” he mimicked.
         “Who are you then, Tomo-kun? Samurai Jack?” Angela asked.
         “Noooooo~!” he shouted, making Robbie grin. “I’m Shinsengumi-san!” he cried, and pretended to hold a sword in his two pudgy hands.
         “They’re the bad guys. Don’t tell him.” Nikko whispered across to Angela and Robbie’s parents. They blinked, Angela giggled.
         “So, Anji, are you here to enroll?” the nurse asked her as the two boys pretended to sword fight. “It would be great to have you in the class. I know Mrs. McKay would love to meet you. Think you’re up to it?”
Angela nodded, weakly, feeling tired just from the thought of going to school. But she knew she had to do it.
         “You can just put your name, and room number here, and you can show up whenever you feel well enough.” Nikko explained, pointing to a sign-up sheet posted on a bulletin board. Angela wrote her name and grade along with her room number, and breathed in deeply.
         The nurse frowned. “Remember, only come if you’re feeling up to it. No one is forcing you. Your health is your first priority.”
         “I know.” Angela sighed.
         “You look very tired today, Anjira. I think you should go back to your room and rest. Dr. Alba is going to come see you soon.”
         “OK, I’ll see you later.” She smiled, but the nurse noticed that the young girl had dark circles under her eyes, and moved slowly as she walked away.
         ‘Spiderman’ and Tomoya continued play fighting, and Angela smiled at them, happy that Tomoya finally had a friend closer to his age, and the new boy wasn’t so scared anymore.
         Tomoya would take care of him.
         “Hai yah~! Yurusa nai~!” Tomoya shouted then, and Angela shook her head.
         Even if he didn’t understand him.
         “Alright boys,” Nikko started, stopping the fighting by holding their shoulders together. “Let’s go destroy some evil cancer cells!”
         Spiderman’s parents looked at each other.
         “Yeah~! Fight, fight, gambatte~!” Tomoya shouted, running down the hall with Spiderman chasing after him.
         “Gambatte~!” He mimicked, making Angela burst out laughing until she reached her room where her oncologist and aunt waited, and the doctor didn’t look too happy.
~

Marissa

         When I went to see Angela that day I was surprised to see her talking to her doctor. Her oncologist actually. Her cancer doctor. A man I had never seen before named Dr. Alba.
         He was young for a doctor, (well, younger then mine anyway,) looking to be in his early thirties with wavy, dark brown hair, and clear gray-blue eyes. He was a broad man, but he looked kind, his eyes sparkling, his big hands seeming gentle.
This man handled all the children’s cases, and Angela was no exception.
Francesca was with her, and it looked like their conversation was really serious. Angela kept looking down as the man handling her fate spoke to her, and she looked tired and beaten. Spiritually.
Whatever the doctor was telling her it couldn’t be good.
         I came closer, making sure no one would see me, and swallowed in, feeling my heart pound.
         “You don’t seem to be getting any better, Angela.” I heard the doctor’s smooth voice say, and I wished I hadn’t.
         “You’re priority on the donor list, but we’re not seeming to get any matches.”
         I wanted to move back. To stop listening. It wasn’t my business anyway.
         “Isn’t there anything else you can do?” I heard Francesca ask, and I felt myself break out in a sweat.
         I shouldn’t be listening, I shouldn’t hear this…
         “I want to up your dosage, but I cannot use the same treatment that achieved your remission last time. It is too toxic.”
I heard Angela sigh when the doctor told her that, and I wondered what had been done to her when she was twelve.
         “If you give me a higher dosage could I have another remission?” she asked, hopefully.
         “I very much doubt that.” The doctor sounded emotionless, and cold, and I felt like my heart would break. “You need chemotherapy to hold off your cancer until you can start the transplant procedure. You’re in a vicious circle, Angela, but I assure you we’re working hard to find you a donor.” The doctor promised, and I could only imagine what was going through Angela’s head, as I felt close to tears myself.
         “Will the transplant save me?” I heard Angela ask then.
         “Angela, we talked this over already…”
         “I know…” she hung her head.
         “Also, I don’t like how tired you are. I think you might be over stimulated in this room with so many children. I’d like to move you to a semi-private room.” The doctor said, and I couldn’t believe it.
         “No!” Angela cried.
         “Angela…” her aunt tried to calm her.
         “You can’t take me away from this room! You just can’t!” she shouted, and I tried to cover my ears, but I still heard her cries. “The children here…they make everyday worthwhile. No matter how sick I am. I love them, they’re strong, stronger then me.” She continued, less frantically.
         “But you should consider you health…” the doctor added.
         “I am considering my health. And I feel happy with my roommates. I love them. When I’m unhappy I get sick, I always have. I especially need Tomoya and nurse Nikko. You can’t take them away from me!”
         “Tomoya…” the doctor repeated.
         “I know I have to leave the room for the transplant. Just let me stay here until then. Please!” she begged.
         The doctor sighed. “Well I don’t want to see you depressed again…” he said.
         “Thank you, doctor. Thank you!” Angela cried, tearfully.
         I couldn’t listen anymore. I ran down the hall, doing my best to stay calm. I ran all the way to the end of the hall and ended up banging into a nurse. It was Nikko. And I realized I had burst into tears.
         “Marissa?” she asked, holding my shoulders. I looked up at her, ashamed of my tears. “What’s wrong?”
         “I shouldn’t have heard it! I shouldn’t have listened!” I cried, feeling the tears come.
         “Listened to what?” Nikko asked. “Here, come sit down over here.” She motioned to the nearby lounge adjacent to the playroom. I shakily sat down, and the nurse sat beside me. “Now, tell me what’s wrong?” she asked.
         I had stopped crying, but I still felt overwhelmed. I found I could talk calmly with the nurse, as if she were my mother. Which was good, because I had only ever told Angela my problems, which I couldn’t very well do anymore.
         “I overheard Angela speaking with her doctor…” I started.
         Nikko put her hand to her forehead.
         “I-I didn’t meant to, it’s just—“ I tried to explain, but the nurse cut me off.
         “I know you didn’t mean to, but now you must have heard the worst case scenario.” She explained.
         “The worst case scenario?”
         “Yes. The doctors here are very honest with the patients and their parents. They want them to know the good and the bad. That there are treatments, but sometimes they don’t work. And sometimes children get better…and sometimes they don’t.”
         “But he said Angela has hardly any options. That her best chance is this transplant, but they can’t get a donor!” I cried.
         “I know, honey.” Nikko said, soothingly, almost sounding like Angela, or the way a mother was supposed to sound.
         “And they want to move her from that room. They can’t do that!” I shouted. “You see how much she loves Tomoya. You can’t let them do that to her!” I sniffled, feeling close to tears again. I loved the little boy too, I didn’t want to have to leave him either.
         “I don’t want her to leave for my little boy’s sake also,” she paused. “But we have to do what’s best for Angela.”
         I hung my head.
         “Why does it all have to be so hard?” I whimpered.
         “It is just a fact of life. We have to accept our flaws, our differences, and adversities and go on.” Nurse Nikko explained to me, and I almost forgot the woman I was speaking to had an accent that was sometimes hard to understand. Her words were clear, and wise.
         “Go see her, Marissa.” She told me, putting her hand on mine. “She’s stronger then you think, and she has a lot of faith. Maybe you can ask to borrow some for awhile, because Angela Michelli has more than enough faith to go around.” The nurse smiled at me, and I tried to think of a response, but then I felt someone jump on my back, and I turned around in my chair to see Angela hugging me around the neck.
         “Hello my faithful and loyal friend.” She smiled, lovingly. I smiled back, hoping my tears were gone now.
         “Heya Angie.”
         “Are you looking for a nurse of your own? Think Nikko can take care of you too?” she grinned.
         “No, no. You’re a healthy kid and you stay that way. I only take care of sick kids like Miss Angela here.” Nikko smiled. “But I wish you’d get well and get out of here.” She joked. Angela laughed.
         “I’ll get this transplant then leave and never come back again!” she said, triumphantly.
         I couldn’t help but smile, my heart feeling full again. Nikko was right, Angela had all the faith in the world, and she would get well.
She would.
~
         “I’m so glad you’ve joined the student council. That’s so great.” Angela told me, happily, without the slightest bit of longing to be involved and live a normal life. She was just happy for me. I loved that about her, but I also felt ashamed by it.
         “You’re a wonderful writer. I’ll always remember that story you wrote in English class.” Angela said, referring to a short story I’d written about a teen mother’s adversities, using descriptive paragraphs. Our English teacher had liked it so much he made me read it in front of the class.
          “You sounded like…” Angela trailed off, and I blushed, not used to compliments. I was just discovering that I had talent now. “You sounded beautiful. You write from the heart, your beautiful soul.”
         I was surprised by what she said. I had forgotten how adult-like she spoke.
I wanted to say something about her courage, kindness, selflessness and faith, but my talent was writing, not spoken words. So I told her about the festival instead.
         “And Angela,” I started, after I told her about our plan to make the school festival a charity event for Kari’s memory, and also Angela’s fight. “I want you to come.”
         Her bright smile disappeared, and she looked down.
         “I know it’s hard, Angie, and if you don’t feel up to it I understand. But if you can, please try.” I asked her, gripping her hands.          She hesitated, and looked around the room, and I felt bad for pressuring her. But I so badly wanted her to come. They couldn’t keep her prisoner forever, could they? She needed a break. She needed a normal life.
         “I…I…” Angela stammered, and I felt even worse. She looked down, and swallowed in.
         “I’m sorry, forget it!” I cried.
         “No…” Angela said, softly. “If I am anywhere but the isolation room at that time, I will make it to the festival. For you…” she trailed off, and I felt pained by her decision.
         “And Kari.” She smiled at me, her large, tired eyes crinkling at the side of her face.
         “No, Angie,” I started. “Think of it as a day off for you.”
         “Hmm, a day off from cancer…” she said, thoughtfully. But before I could say anything in response, Maria trudged into the room, making her presence known with a deep sigh. She looked tired and worn, and very depressed. As cruel as she was, she was still a young girl in the shadow of a life-threatening illness. Whatever it may be.
         But hadn’t she thought she would go home today?
         Maria came right over to her bed, and flopped down, sighing heavily.
         “What’s wrong, Maria?” Angela asked.
         The girl didn’t look up, she just continued laying there as she spoke. “I’ve got to stay another day.” She started, wearily. “That’s what the meeting was about.”
         For the first time I felt sorry for Maria. I saw her the way Angela did. A frightened little girl who was being poked and prodded for no known reason, and stuck in a room with children with serious illnesses that may or may not be her own future. And, she didn’t seem to have a mother.
         “They want to give me a spinal test…or something…” she continued, and I noticed Angela wince.
         I realized Maria was talking about the awful test I’d first seen Angela go through that had left her in pain for hours. But she didn’t tell Maria. She probably couldn’t bring herself to.
         “I’m so sorry, Maria.” She said instead, and I nodded.
         “That’s too bad.”
I probably said something way inappropriate. I should just keep my mouth shut.
         “Maybe this is your final test.” I started, trying to correct myself. “Maybe if it comes back normal you can go home.” I tried to be cheerful for the disheartened girl, but Angela looked over at me, and shook her head.
         The test is for if a doctor suspects something is wrong with your bone marrow, meaning any amount of illnesses, but especially cancer.
         Maria didn’t say anything, and moved to lie down straight in her bed, turning her back toward us.
         “Maybe I do have cancer.” She mumbled softly to herself. “It would sure explain a lot of things…”
~
         “Who’s that?” suddenly a little boy I had never seen came into the room and pointed at me. He was a little bigger then Tomoya, and wore a complete Spiderman costume, including a mask over his face so I could only see that he had spiky blonde hair sticking out from above the mask. I looked over at Angela.
         “Who are you?” I decided to ask him too. I thought he was a patient from another room, but Angela seemed to know him as she leaned down to be eye level with the new little boy and spoke to him.
         “This is my best friend, Marissa.” She smiled, slightly.
         “Oh…” he said, and I looked to Angela to tell me who the heck this Spiderman impersonator was.
         “Does she have neurobatsdoma too?” he asked, and I blinked, and again looked over at Angela. She was the only health expert in our midst. All I knew was the boy was mispronouncing his illness. I mean he had to be, right?
         “No, Marissa is well, and she comes to visit me everyday.” Angela explained.
         The little boy in a Spiderman mask looked down at his feet.
         “She’s lucky.” He mumbled.
         Then I stepped forward, finally having something to say.
         “I am lucky to be well, and I hope that soon you and my friend, Angela can join me.” I smiled at him, but I don’t know if he smiled back.
         Then Tomoya burst into the room followed by Nikko who was chasing him. He was giggling, and pretending to hold a sword which he used to lunge at the Spiderman who tossed a fake web at him, and they both ended up on the floor in a heap of laughter.
         The boys made me smile, and Spiderman had let his mask ride up over his head, and I saw that he had a child’s round face, and big blue eyes. He was really cute.
         Nikko came over to them and picked up Tomoya who pretended to try to get out of the fake web he’d been captured in, and still giggled.
         “Come mere little samurai, you gotta take your medicine now. Okusuri dai yo.” Nikko told him in both English and Japanese, and Tomoya nodded, obediently.
“Un.” He said. “Supaidaman, bye bye!” he added, waving as the nurse started to bring him out of the room.
         “Where you going?” the little boy asked.
         “Medicine dai yo.” Tomoya replied.
         Spiderman got up and watched them go.
         “Oh…” he mumbled, hanging his head, disappointedly, and sitting on the floor.
         “He’ll be back soon, Spidey.” Angela reassured him.
         “Is Tomoya really sick?” he suddenly asked her, seriously.
         She seemed taken a back by that, and didn’t answer right away.
         “Mommy and daddy said that all the kids here are sick like I am. But Tomo doesn’t look sick.” He paused, and sucked on his finger a little. “Does he have neurobatsdoma too?”
         The little boy lost me at the ‘n’ word again, but I saw Angela tense up, and she gripped her hand into a tight fist.
         “Neuroblastoma…” she said, under her breath. Then she turned around and leaned down to be eye-level with the little blonde-haired boy.
         “No honey. Tomoya has leukemia like I do.” She said, sounding worried and disheartened now.
         “Oh…” he replied, and then went out into the hall to search for his parents again.
         Angela walked over to her bed, and sat down, seeming tired as well. I followed her, and tried to figure out why she had suddenly become so down.
         Maria was laying upside-down over her bed now, and boredly watched the three of us settle in the room.
         “Welcome to my nightmare.” She muttered.
         “Um Angie, so who is the kid in the Spiderman costume?” I asked her.
         Then Maria sat up.
         “Yeah, who is that kid?” she asked.
         “His name is Robbie. He just came here today, and he’s going to take the 6th bed.” Angela replied, sighing, and hanging her head.
         I looked over at the once empty bed across from Angela and saw that there were now clean sheets and blankets, along with a duffle bag and a stuffed Spiderman toy.
         “He really likes Spiderman, huh?” I commented.          Angela turned me to, and gave a slight smile.
         “It’s what he wants to be called. I only just learned his real name now.”
         “Oh…” I started. “What’s a matter, Angie? You seem so sad now.” I asked her, concernedly.          She hesitated as usual, but then she actually told me what was bothering her instead of me having to pry it out of her.
         “Today my doctor said I should be moved to another room because being here was tiring me out. But I told him I didn’t want to leave these children because they give me the strength and courage to face each day, and they make me feel needed too.” She paused, and looked out at the colourful halls before going on.
         “Yet, sometimes I forget that they’re sick too, and it tears me apart to see them hurt or in pain. Sometimes I see a kid and I wonder, ‘Will I see him tomorrow? Will he see tomorrow? Will he see me tomorrow?’
         It hurts, it hurts so much that sometimes I have to question God’s reason for letting us become sick. How could He let this happen, you know?”
         “I know.” I replied, already certain that I’d given up on God after Kari had to die.
         What the hell was the point of that?
         But I didn’t want Angela to give up. Not on her faith.
         “And that boy in the Spiderman mask has something called neuroblastoma. It’s a cancer that only young children get, and it’s almost always fatal.” She looked over at me with tears in her eyes. “I don’t want to have to say goodbye to any of these children. I don’t want them to die.” She started to cry, and I pulled her shoulder close to me as she wept.
         I didn’t know what to say. I had no good advice to give her. I couldn’t stop what was hurting her. I had nothing. Except a shoulder to cry on.
~

         What Angela had told me that day, stayed with me. I hadn’t thought about the children dying either. I could barely fathom Angela dying. But Arcadies, Adrian and little Tomoya… I couldn’t imagine that. I couldn’t think of Maria dying either, no matter how much I hated her.
         Even though now I had a lot to keep my mind occupied, I always thought back to what she had told me, and how she had cried.
         I tried not to think about that as I concentrated on evening out Irena’s bangs in my cosmetology class. I was doing well in that class. The teacher said I could probably be a professional hairdresser. I didn’t know if that was what I wanted to do, but it felt nice to finally be good at something in school. And one day, all that training would pay off.
         I was slowly starting to show my true self to my classmates, and even to myself. I discovered things about myself I had never known. I thought I was growing up. I didn’t want to think that being without Angela was changing me this way. She was shy, I had trouble relating to people. We stuck together, but now I had to make it on my own. So I did my best. I got respect for being on the student council too, even if I was just a writer.
         Katy and I thought of calling our school wide festival that was going to be dedicated to Kari this year, ‘Bright Star’, a take on Kari’s first and last name, and what she had been called by her father. As we planned for it, I somehow found myself forced to be in the music showcase.
         For as long as I could remember, I would try to sing along with the radio. I would sing anything, my dad’s boring blues, my mom’s old 50s ballads, even the early 90s crap I heard on my own radio. Dad kept telling me to join a choir, that I sang like an angel, and should do something with it. I thought my dad was a nut, and I refused to join any choir. My mom supported that by telling me I couldn’t go anywhere as a musician and it was all just a stupid pipe-dream by my father.
         My parents were fighting even back then----over me.
         Anyway, when I met Angela it turned out she liked to sing too, and we would always sing along with our favourite songs on the radio. She said I didn’t sound like a pop singer, but an opera singer or something. I told her she was crazy, and I didn’t sing anymore after that. At least not when I thought anyone was listening.
         But I had made the mistake of singing along with my favourite song when it came on the radio that day as I showed Irena her trimmed bangs in the hand mirror. I guess I was just in the right place at the right time, trimming the right girl’s hair.
         I sang the bridge of the song. The most powerful part, and forgot where I was. When I finally did come back to reality the whole room was staring at me. I felt myself blush a deep red, and I turned the radio off.
         “Marissa, do that again.” Irena, who was a very musical girl, ordered me. I swallowed in and turned on the radio. The song was over.
         “I can’t, the song’s finished.” I protested.
         “Do it without the music.” Another girl named Rebecca told me. I was in a room with a bunch of ‘American Idolists’.
         “Marissa, your voice is beautiful. You sound like the singer.” Finally Sandy, who wasn’t bias toward me, spoke up, making me feel better.
         “No, I don’t.”
         “Yes you do.” Irena insisted.          And it went on like this.
         Before I knew it, I’d been signed up to sing at the festival talent show.
         Now I really needed to convince Angela to come. Because if I was going to sing in front of the entire school, I needed her support.
~

         “Mommy~! Mommy!” the shrill cries of Robbie, (AKA Spiderman) echoed through the hospital room that afternoon when I was visiting Angela. It was the first time I had seen any of the children suffer like Angela did.
         Robbie was a newly diagnosed child, and according to Angela his illness was gave and painful. His mother was with him, trying to comfort the little boy, and hold him down. He needed surgery to remove one of the many tumors he was stricken with, and he was scared along with having pain in his tummy.
         Arcadies had gone through surgery six months ago, and she tried to talk to the frightened child, but he wouldn’t listen to her. The only person he would listen to was Tomoya, whether he understood him or not.
         Tomoya sat on his own bed beside him, and continued to recite his words of encouragement and wellness. He really was an entrancing child that way.
         “Daijoubu yo Gambare.” Tomoya said to the crying little boy, who stopped his shouting and turned to him, curiously. Then his mother began to rub his tummy, and he continued to look at Tomoya as he spoke to him in Japanese.
         I sat with Angela on her bed leafing through the Japanese-English dictionary her aunt had brought her to try to decipher Tomoya.
         Daijoubu…It’s alright,… Gambare… Like ‘Gambatte’...it meant ‘Work hard’, and ‘Don’t give up’. They were the same word.
         I also discovered that ‘Nikko’ was another word for ‘smile’. It suited the kind nurse, with the encouraging smile for the patients, even when her own son walked among them.
         Angela was very tired that day, and although the room was full, we didn’t move somewhere on our own. I just sat with her like a good friend should, and like I said, she was very grateful. Even without words I could see her gratitude to not being left along and closed off from the outside world. That’s what I tried to make happen for her. I just wanted her to be happy. My friends and family never seemed happy now. I would never had known how hard it was to be happy if I hadn’t lived that year. My fifteenth year was when I grew up, and when I discovered what real problems were, and that there was something I could do about them. Even when I thought things were hopeless.
         I offered to bring both Robbie and Angela some water, and I walked over to the sink beside the entrance to fill both their pitchers. That’s when Maria burst into the room, and banged into me. I fell over, spilling the water, and hit my head hard on the side of Angela’s bed.
         Things were a bit hazy after that, but I had seen that the young girl was crying before she tackled me to the ground.
         “Oh my God, Marissa, are you alright?!” Angela cried, hurrying to my side.
         I couldn’t focus on her at first. My head ached, and I couldn’t speak.
         Maria wasn’t really that strong, but she had pushed me over, and I had no way to fall but straight down, and into the hard bed post behind me.
         “Marissa, say something!” Angela was frantically shaking me suddenly, and I came back to my senses.
         “Yeah…I’m OK…” I mumbled, noticing that Maria’s father was with her. He was dressed more professionally now, but looked just as upset as his daughter.
         “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” the man asked, coming over to Angela and I.
         “Dad, forget about her!” Maria shouted, causing Tomoya to cover his ears.
         That’s when I saw my usually gentle and soft spoken friend get very angry.
         “Maria, what is the matter with you?!” she demanded, turning toward the girl.
         “You’ve really hurt her!” Angela cried, holding onto the back of my head in an attempt to help stop my pain. She had a healing touch, and my head did feel clearer, but I was surprised to see my friend become so angry at a girl that had me angry over what she had done to her in the past. But all Angela cared about was defending others, and not herself.
         “Who cares! She’ll get over it. Its not like she’s going to die!” Maria shouted back at her.
         “God, she’s fine, but I have to be sick. Sick like the rest of you.” She paused, and turned to me, her eyes narrowing, and I lifted my aching head to look at her. She really was upset.
         “Except you, but you’re the weakest of us all!” the 12 year old girl accused me, projecting all her anger, hurt and fear on me. It tore at my heart to be so badly hated by someone I barely knew.
         Angela was speechless, I saw Tomoya covering his ears and looking close to tears, and Adrian and Arcadies sat together watching the scene without saying anything. Spiderman’s mother looked shocked, and kept rubbing her son’s stomach, ignoring the little war.
         “What’s wrong with you, Maria?” Angela practically whispered, relieving Tomoya, who seemed to be extra sensitive to loud noises. She turned to me and then put her arms around me to help me get up. She lead me to her own bed, and let me lay down while she sat at the bottom.
         Maria crossed her arms, and shot daggers at us both with her eyes.
         “You want to know why I’m upset, little miss-not-so-perfect.” She focused on Angela now.
         I hated to hear her insult Angela too, when she always tried to help her.
         “I have Hodgkin’s disease…..cancer…. like the rest of you. You got anymore questions?”
         No one said anything, but Spiderman’s mother picked him up and dragging his IV, took him out of the room.
         I held my head, feeling pain rip through it that really had nothing to do with my injury.
         “Maria, I-“ Adrian started to say, but Arcadies punched him.
         “Well I have non-Hodgkin’s disease. So now you can’t make fun of us anymore!” she grinned, but Adrian gave her a disapproving look.
         Maria would usually shrug off Arcadies’ comments, but now she looked hurt.
         “Maria, I really am sorry.” Angela spoke up.
         “It’s all her fault. She could have stopped it. She should be here!” Maria shouted, ignoring Angela, who turned to me and shook her head, sadly.
         “Baby, you can’t blame her.” Maria’s father told her, but she just scoffed.
         I wondered who she was talking about. I wished I wasn’t there. I always seemed to be in the room when something bad like this happened. I didn’t belong there.
         “I wanted to be a model, but how am I supposed to do that if I’m sick and ugly?!” she cried, and her father tried to hold on to her, but she pushed him away.
         “I don’t want to have cancer and go bald like you,” she looked to Adrian. “Or throw up all the time like you,” she turned her cold gaze to Angela, who looked down, which reminded me that I felt like throwing up, and I held my head.
         “And you’re not even sick!” Maria shouted to Arcadies, making the little five-year-old very angry.
“Yes I am! Why else do you think I’m here?!” Poor Arcadies repeated the same line again.
         Maria ignored the little girl, when usually they would get into a huge fight like sisters. Instead, she burst into tears.
         “I don’t want to die!” she screamed, and tore the curtain closed.
~

Angela

         “Maria,” Angela whispered late that night as she stood in front of Maria’s closed off bed.
         She had woken up, sick to her stomach, and heard the young girl crying in her bed.          She thought back to when Maria had admitted about her illness, and hurt Marissa who left the hospital with an icepack to her head. She felt terrible about what had happened to her friend, but now she felt even worse for the newly diagnosed girl crying alone in her bed.
         “Are you alright?”
         “Go away.” She groaned.
         Angela put her hand on the curtain, and sighed deeply.
         “Please, Maria, I know how you feel.”
         “Sure you do. You’ve got cancer too.” She mumbled.
         “Yes, but I was diagnosed when I was twelve, just like you…” Angela trailed off.
         Suddenly the curtains opened, and Maria poked her head out, tears still visible in the darkness.
         “Really? You were twelve like me?” she asked.
         Angela nodded.
         “I always thought that only old people got cancer. I tried to pretend you were all old. What am I doing with a bunch of kids on an oncology floor anyway?” she asked the older girl. “I’m not even thirteen yet. How can I have cancer?”
         “That’s what I wondered too.” Angela admitted. “Although my mother had died from the same disease, all the doctors said it wasn’t hereditary. It just happens.” She whispered, not wanting to wake up Adrian nearby, or the other children.
         “Your mother died from cancer?” Maria asked.
         “Yes, when I was very young.” Angela replied, hanging her head.
         “I don’t have a mother either…” Maria started, softly. “She left me because she couldn’t take care of such a sickly kid.” She paused, and looked down. “I’ve always been sick. Always. That’s why I hate sick kids. Because they’re like me. And I hate myself.” She clutched at her pillow with all her strength, her knuckles turning white, her teeth gritted.
         Her bitter and tragic words tore at Angela’s heart.
         The poor girl.
How could her mother abandon her when she was sick?
No wonder she was so cold.
         “I’m sorry, Maria.” She sighed.
         “It doesn’t matter. She couldn’t do anything for me anyway.” The girl muttered, bitterly.
         “You have to be strong. No amount of medication will help you if you don’t believe you can get better yourself.” Angela started. “You have to face the treatments, and believe you will live. You need faith, Maria.”
         “But will that make me live?”
         “That I cannot say.” Angela replied. “You could get remission for a long time like I did, without any relapse. Or you could not. Its different for every person.”
         Angela didn’t feel so confident about what she was saying, because she knew she couldn’t say that everything would be alright, but she could give the girl the encouragement she needed.
         “Do you anyone with this type of cancer?” Maria asked.
         Angela did. When she was first diagnosed, she knew a fourteen year old girl who had succumbed to the illness after a long and painful fight. It had made her very sad and frightened of her own mortality. But she would never tell Maria this.
         “Believe it or not, Arcadies’ type is much like yours.” She replied.
         “Heh. If that’s the case…” Maria paused, continuing to look down. “Guess there’s nothing for me to be afraid of, is there?” she looked up at her and a tear came down her cheek.
         “It’ll be OK.” Angela said, putting her hand on Maria’s. “You’ll get through this.”
         “Are you awake because you’re sick right now?” the younger girl suddenly asked.
         “A little.”
         “They gave me chemo pills tonight. I don’t feel sick…”
         “You might not get sick. Maybe you’ll tolerate it.” Angela told her, hopefully.
         “My experience is very rare. There’s very little chance you’d be as ill as I am.”
         Maria looked down, and Angela sat down on the bed beside her.
         “I’m sorry I’ve been so mean to you…and the others…” she continued, guiltily.
         “I’m sorry I hurt Marissa too. I don’t really hate her. I just hate that she’s so nice, and such a loyal friend to you. I’m jealous, alright.”
         Angela smiled a little.
         “People like Marissa are rare, but you can always talk to me or Adrian too if you feel lonely.”
         “Thanks.” Maria murmured.
         “I’ve always believed in you. I hoped you wouldn’t have to be exposed to what we go through. It was better you hated us, and didn’t understand.” Angela told her.
         Maria grew silent then, and Angela thought back to all the cruel things the young girl had said the past few weeks. Never believing that she’d be one of them, and hating them so she didn’t have to think about them when she left. She had built such high walls, that now she couldn’t get out.
         “Angela,” Maria started, looking back up at the girl.
         “Will you stay with me…? Just until I fall asleep? My dad’s working the night shift…her said he’d come stay with me tomorrow…when they give me radiation…Please…” she begged of her.
         “I will. Go to sleep now, alright. I’ll stay right beside you.” Angela promised.
         Maria fell asleep almost immediately, but Angela lay awake, nausea gripping at her stomach. She noticed that Maria held onto a white-blonde coloured teddy bear, shattering the original picture she had once held of Maria.
         If only that teddy bear could do something for them. If only squeezing its fur would help them get well again. Then no child would be sick. No matter what age they were.
Because no teddy bear had ever turned away a child.