Parched and fat in her mouth, Alex’s tongue sat swollen and dehydrated as she forced her eyes open. Aching, her feet begged her to remove the shoes she’d sported the previous evening. The only bedtime preparation Alex had put effort toward, was falling face-forward onto her mattress in a drunken frenzy.
Blinking toward the wall, regret temporarily flooded—it was soon replaced with relief. It was over…she accomplished her goal. Alex Ayers: Registered Respiratory Therapist. She did it…she took Tyson’s advice and kicked the test’s ass. The celebration that followed was now kicking hers.
Rolling from her bed in her clothes, she was quick to dismantle the ensemble she’d carefully constructed only twelve hours prior. Sweats and a zip-up sweat jacket in replacement, she exited her room to hear her mother’s voice coming from the kitchen.
Teeth brushed and hair in a sloppy bun, she struggled down the hall to the conversation. Although at any given point in time she found herself longing to bitch-slap the shit out of her mother, the smell of fresh coffee lured her.
Seated at the cluttered kitchen table was an exhausted appearing Tyson—dressed in a pressed shirt and new jeans. The boy puffed slightly in between petite bites of Cocoa Pebbles.
“Good morning, Ty.” Offering her brother a kiss on his cheek, her lips were met with cool, clammy skin and her ears a soft wheeze.
“Morning, Sis.”
“Where are you going?”
The walk to the coffee pot was silent—no response. “Tyson…why are you dressed up?”
“I’m taking him to the field.” Her mother’s husky voice cut through the quiet.
“Field?”
“I’m taking him to the field, Alexandra.”
Momentarily halting her quest for caffeine, Alex stared at her mother in disbelief. “What? The field? Why? Mom it’s snowing outside. Are you talking about the baseball field?”
“Calm yourself, Alex. The car has a working heater.” Reaching for a mug, her mother poured Alex a cup of coffee.
“Ty…why today? Is something going on up there today?”
Chewing with his mouth pried slightly in an obvious attempt to entrain additional air-flow, Tyson merely shook his head.
“This makes no sense. There’s absolutely no reason for you to be out of bed. You don’t need to go to the field today. Mom, help me out here. I can’t be the only voice of reason—”
“I wanna see it one last time, Alex.” His strained words hit her harder than any hammer possibly could. His words knocked any remaining noise from the scene—leaving it lifeless and soaking in a cruel reality…Tyson was actively dying.
Looking to her sibling, weak and eyes all but pleading pathetically, she crumbled inside…it all crashed. The months of maintaining strength, of holding out for a second chance had boiled into this. This was real. This was the type of real that left nothing to rebut. This was life and it was theirs.
If she hadn’t previously come to the realization of how truly precious time was—she’d have sworn it was standing still. Her gaze heavy on his as she finally allowed his previous words…statements…to sink and settle—“I’m okay, Alex. It’s going to be okay. You…are going to be okay.”
Swallowing loudly, she smiled proudly at the brave young warrior seated before her. “Okay, the baseball field.”
***
There was no field, only a blanket of snow and a thousand memories dancing in her brother’s eyes. His smile—classically beautiful—was perfection. Absent their mother and sitting in the warmed car nestled to the chain-link fence, Alex and Tyson silently watched the numerous snowflakes falling fat from the sky to cover their world. There was no wind—no biting, bitter agony about the atmosphere. There was only a calming peace that nearly resembled acceptance.
Taking her brother’s hand, she squeezed it lightly. “Tyson Kade Ayers…you have no idea how proud I am to be your sister. You’re my everything.”
“You know…” His words all but trailed. “That statement might get us arrested. Incest…is…frowned upon.”
Chuckling, she kissed his cheek as his eyes remained fixed on the mound. “You were amazing out there, Ty.”
“Were? Let go of my hand, woman. I can go nine innings right now.” His sarcastic, raspy comments—soft and slow—had her teetering—her eyelids nearly spilling her emotions onto the somber scene. Completely aware that this very conversation would be ever etched on her memory all her days, she carefully contemplated her next words…before they left her mouth, a phone was vibrating.
Looking toward the gearshift, a 0000 flashed on the smartphone screen. “That’s my boss with my new schedule—”
“Alex…that’s my phone. That could be Dr. Jones.”
Reaching for the phone in frantic fashion, Alex pressed the green accept button. “Hello.”
“Alexandra?”
“Dr. Jones?”
“Is Tyson with you?”
“Yes, we’re at the baseball—”
“You’re in town, correct?”
“Yes.”
“I need you to come to the hospital, now…nine one one. It’s happening.”
The female physician’s words seemed more a cruel joke than a potential pardon.
“You’re…you’re serious?”
“Alexandra! Tyson, to the hospital, now!”
“Holy shit! We’re on our way!”
Hanging up the phone, she looked to her brother, his skin was a ghostly, pale white—illuminated by the blinding snow behind his beautiful face.
“Alex…” His lip quivered—a sliver of hope cracked through his eyes.
Grabbing either side of his face, she pressed her grinning lips to his forehead. “We’ve got to go now, Baby-Ty.”
“Is this really happening, Alex? Is this…oh my God. Is this really happening?”
His smile—the smile one gives upon learning returning a death sentence might be an option, was beautifully crafted on him.
“Let’s go, Ty.”
“Wait! Alex…just…just wait.”
“Ty, we can’t.”
“What if it doesn’t work? What if…what if I don’t wake up?”
The fear in his eyes was acute—something dreadful only now realized.
“Tyson…”
“I’ve…I accepted it, Alex. I accepted I’m gonna die. But not today. I need my month…I need my weeks. They can’t…they can’t wave this in my face now…why now?”
“Tyson…I need you to look at me. I know you’re heart’s racing and you’ve got a million worries running through your beautiful head. This could be it, Baby-Ty. This could be your ticket to thirty. You’re talking about months and weeks when—”
“I don’t wanna die today, Alex.” His soft pitched proclamation coupled with the welling tears in his buzzing eyes sent Alex reaching for him. “I don’t wanna die…I don’t…I don’t wanna die.”
Hugging him, she eyed the oxygen tank in the floor board. She instantly replaced the idea of his wake with his return to the pitcher’s mound. “You have been so brave for so long…if you can just be brave today…and if you can’t it’s okay because I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens I’m not going anywhere, Tyson.”
“I’m so scared, Alex.” His fear shook through in their embrace—it seemed every ounce of her brother was saturated in an awful horror. “I can’t be brave, I can’t be strong anymore…” His words left him in a soft, nearly breathless cry.
“I can, Ty.” Pulling away slightly, she kissed his wet cheek. “We have to go.”