Helen and Kalena

                                          In Memory of  Karen H

                                              1956-2014





                                      Helen and Kalena



For the last year, Kalena had been insanely jealous of her step-sister, Helen.  Helen had leukemia.  That’s not what Kalena was jealous of; she felt terrible about that.  She was jealous of the attention Helen got, from both parents.  She envied the presents, cards and money people sent Helen when she was in the hospital.  Once in a while,  someone gave a token gift to her too.  The  best had been The Boxcar Children, but even that had to be shared with Helen.  She’d been outside in the sun, a beautiful summer day, when her dad suggested she read the story to Helen.  Helen couldn’t be in the sun much because of her chemotherapy.  Kalena had been very annoyed to have to share this special book with her stepsister, but once her father reminded her how sick Helen was, she grudgingly complied.

         “Want to go sit outside?” Kalena asked sweetly.  “I can read my new book to you, and we can put the umbrella up.”

              Helen agreed, and Kalena read the story to her.  Since she was ten and her stepsister eight, she was very proud to be able to read and explain the story to her.

         Kalena was also jealous of how much attention Helen got from both parents.  She could understand the attention and worry from Helen’s mother, her stepmother.  Helen was her child.  But she greatly resented being sent to a babysitter so her own father  could take Helen to chemo, or stay with her after in the hospital, or whatever.  Her heart burst with jealousy  and she very nearly hated her father for doing that.  Sometimes her stepmom would take her out for a special “Kalena and Jenny Day” and they would go get ice cream, or go the Natural History Museum.  Kalena loved the dinosaurs at the museum, but Helen couldn’t go.  She was self-conscious about having to wear a hat and usually had to use a wheelchair. 

         When her father first married Helen’s mother, Kalena had been delighted.  Her own mother had died when she was just a baby and she was thrilled to have a new mother and sister.    Helen had been a rambunctious six year old then, still healthy and strong.  For a while, everything was great. 

         Kalena would never forget the day they found out Helen was sick.  For a long time, she thought it was her fault.  She and Helen had been playing in the back yard.  They were jumping into huge piles of leaves, pretending to fly.  Kalena had accidentally landed on Helen, and Helen was bruised for days.  The bruises pooled on her arms and back.  Then her mother noticed more bruises all over Helen’s body.  She asked Kalena if she knew about them.  All Kalena could think of was when they were playing in the leaves.  Had she landed on a rock?  Did Kalena land on her harder than she thought? 

         One night, Helen had woken up Kalena, gasping for air.

         “Kal...help,” she rasped out.  “Can’t…breathe…”

        Kalena raced into her parents room and screamed at the top of her lungs that Helen was dying.  All four of them had raced to the hospital and after a very long wait, Helen was admitted.  The doctor knew the signs, even if nobody else did.

            They all reacted differently to the news.  Helen’s mother was hysterical.  She cried almost non-stop for 3 days.

          Kalena’s father was practical.  He researched all he could about the disease, specialists,  and treatment options.  He comforted everyone, saying leukemia is treatable.

          Kalena was scared.  She had heard things about leukemia in passing references to her mother and she was terrified Helen would die.  She was also afraid the bruises had caused it, and since it was Helen playing with her that had caused the bruises, she had caused the leukemia.

          Helen herself was pretty indifferent.  She knew she was in the hospital and there was a tremendous fuss being made over her.  But since she pretty much slept through it, she didn’t much mind.

          Jenny had found Kalena sobbing in a hospital closet.  Jenny had held her tight, rocking her and saying Helen would be okay.  When Kalena finally calmed down, she told Jenny that it was her fault Helen was sick, she had caused the bruises.

          Jenny had carefully explained that the bruises weren’t the cause, they were the symptom; how people knew they might have it.  Once Kalena realized she hadn’t caused Helen’s leukemia, a great weight lifted off her shoulders.

Then came the endless hospitals visits, the chemo,  the vomiting, the hair loss.  Helen wore a wig at first, then a turban.  Finally she wore hats all the time.  Kalena knew she was sick, but she was still annoyed by all the attention Helen got, all the extra precautions they had to take. 

            On a warm day near the end of May, all the kids got to go outside.  The fifth graders played kickball and the third graders played on the playground.

         Kalena loved kick ball.  She booted the ball deep into center field and raced to second base.  She was cheering on her friend to kick her home when something caught her eye.

         A boy was pushing Helen.  He was trying to take off her hat and Helen was crying and yelling at him not to.  She tried to run away but the other boy was too big and pushed her down.  He grabbed her hat and waved it around.

         Kalena forgot she was in the middle of a high stakes fifth grade kick ball game.  She forgot how annoyed she got with Helen’s whining .  The jealousy disappeared and she went racing off, despite everyone yelling at her to get back on second base.

         “Hey,  asshole!” Kalena shrieked, startling the nearby teachers.  They never expected to hear foul language from quiet, sweet little Kalena.  “Leave my sister alone.”

         “She’s bald!” laughed the boy, still waving the hat around.

         “She has leukemia, puke face!” Kalena screamed.  “She’s sick!”

         Kalena aimed a sharp kick at the boy’s shins.  He laughed at her.  She aimed a little higher and he dropped the hat.

         Kalena jumped on him and pulled his hair.  She punched his face  and screamed obscenities.  Blood poured out of his nose and she bellowed that he deserved it.  Two teachers came racing over and pulled her off him.  They had to carry her kicking and screaming to the principal’s office and even then, it took her quite a while to calm down.

         The principal was secretly impressed and wanted to tell Kalena he was glad she had protected her stepsister.  The boy was a bully and he was glad this little wisp of a girl had beat the snot out of him.  But of course he couldn’t say that.

         Instead he told Kalena fighting wasn’t the answer, she should have told a teacher.  But at the end of his lecture, he actually winked at her.

         That night at home, Kalena was the center of attention.  As soon as they walked in the door, Helen burst out about what Kalena had done.  The principal had already called, so they knew.  But Helen was so thrilled about Kalena helping her, beating up a big boy who was bothering her, she was actually jumping up and down.

         “Fighting’s not the answer,” Dad said at dinner.  “You should’ve told an adult.”

         “Yes,” agreed Jenny, putting an extra big helping of Kalena’s favorite, ravioli on her plate.  “But just between us, we are very proud of the way you protected Helen.”

          Kalena’s heart lightened.  Even if Helen was a whiny little brat sometimes, she was sick, and more importantly she was her stepsister.  They were a family and it was Kalena’s job to watch out for her.  Kalena was happy to do it.